Sleepless Nights

I haven't been sleeping well at all the past week. It appears the "homeless" don't rest so easily. During these nights there must be an hour or two at least where I do sleep because I have the most bizarre, vivid dreams. The following are some images from these dreams. Analyze all you want, but I've already reached the conclusion that I am insane. Certifiably so.

Going on a "field trip" with coworkers to some type of aquarium. I pet sting rays with enormous black eyes that jumped out of their pool to get to me.
Cardboard lockers to use for one day.
Trying to get to someone at midnight but it was already daylight so I feared I wouldn't make it in time.
A yard full of dogs I had to find homes for.
The home of my best friend in elementary school. She didn't live there anymore, but I walked in to take a look, met the new owner and thought about how much it had changed. The new owner had added a pool. In the same dream I saw the mother of my other best friend.

On another note I believe the break-up diet may finally have hit, considering I threw up my leftover Thai food last night. Goody for me.

Beached Boston

I can deny it no longer. Not after yesterday. My pretty pretty princess puppy has become a porky plump piggy puppy. She beached herself on the console between my car seats trying to get from the backseat to the front. By beached, I mean she landed on the console and couldn't move herself off of it. She wiggled and shimmied a bit and then just gave up, her girth doubled, spreading out between the seats. She looked up at me with her big, round brown eyes, and I was a bad mommy. I laughed. I couldn't help it, and I can't describe it well enough that you, the listener (or reader, if you're picky), would laugh with the same gusto that I did. I laughed until I cried. My funny little clown puppy.

It's diet time. I already bought weight loss food, and have increased our walks. I've seen a big difference in Remy, he is quite slim now. It seems that females of other species have as much trouble losing weight as their human counterparts. I'm not too hopeful that she'll make much progress before winter hits and I begin to hibernate. At least I'll have some comic relief when the weather is bringing me down.

Things I Believe

I've been thinking a lot lately about what I believe in and what I should believe in. The world in general as of late seems turned upside down so often and my own world particularly so. I suppose I want to make sense of the things I don't understand. I want to find a foundation that isn't continuously shifting underneath my feet. So I made a list. I like lists. It's my list and I don't expect everyone to agree with it, but these are the things that make sense and mean something to me. They're also not overly serious as there is enough seriousness going on lately. Finally, I should also note that just because I believe that something can happen, doesn't mean I believe it will happen to me. Obviously, at my age, being married for 50 years is out of the question. Unless there really is a fountain of youth, but I don't believe there is.

Anyway, this is My List. In no particular order.

Kids change your life and sometimes who you are.
People who don't like dogs can't be trusted.
People who don't want kids are also questionable.
True love exists.
Bad kissers aren't worth it.
Miracles happen.
It's okay to cry.
Christmas is a good time to fall in love.
Santa Claus is real.
A hug can change your day.
Watching movies on the couch all day is time well spent.
It is possible to be married for 50 years.
Reading is one of life's greatest luxuries.
Music is essential.
Fruity drinks are for wimps.
Animals have feelings. And opinions.
Some things can only be explained by the existence of evil.
Everyone should see the ocean at least once in life.
The right pair of shoes can bring joy.
Food is love.
Southern hospitality is underrated.
A man dedicated to his family is always the sexiest man in the room. Hands down.
Affection is absolutely necessary.
Writing is a gift.
Theater, concerts, dance and art are fundamental to the soul.
Photographs tell a story.
A kiss that leaves you breathless should be a daily occurrence.
Bread and cheese is a meal. A good one.
True friendship is rare and should be treasured.
Wishes do come true.
Memories fade too quickly and sometimes not quickly enough.
Disneyland is the happiest place on earth.
High school is not the best years of your life.
Hearts can literally break.
Wine is an experience.
Everything is temporary.

Homeless

That’s how I feel lately. Sure, I live in a house, I’m not actually out on the street. But it’s really just a building, a shelter from the elements, a place to put my Stuff. It doesn’t feel like Home, even with all of my Stuff. Even with D. Even with the dogs. Because D isn’t always there and there are still a couple of people missing from the equation.


When I was in Portland for a conference last week, I was suddenly hit with feeling homesick. Being hit is exactly what it feels like too. It’s not just a little emotion, or a distant longing. It’s a physical, near-tangible feeling, as if someone dropped a coat of sadness on me and I can’t take it off. I sat for a few minutes wondering where it came from. I wasn’t alone, I was with people. I was even having fun. At first I thought maybe it was because I couldn’t completely be myself. I was with coworkers and my boss and, even though we were in a relaxed setting and not talking business, there’s still a level of professionalism to maintain.


After I got back to my hotel room, I realized that what I was and am missing is a home base. A place where people wait for me, where I’m missed. A place that wraps me in comfort and love, like a favorite, well-worn blanket the moment I step in the door. That is what home is to me, a place filled with people to love and be loved by.


Now when I have “guests” there is a level of formality and awkward politeness. It makes me uneasy, the absence of familiarity. Families don’t play host to each other. Families just are.


Tonight I’ll return to my house. It needs to be cleaned and dinner needs to be made. The dogs need to be fed. There are plenty of domestic chores to perform and take up my time. I will hug D when I arrive and again at bedtime. I can pretend it feels like home for a few minutes, especially for D, but I know I’m not really there yet.


Until then it feels like I’m just drifting, waiting for a place to land.