Sorry Buddy

Recently while having dinner with my parents at MCL, they told me a story about another gentleman in the restaurant. Seems he was dining there -- alone -- and having a lengthy and loud argument with himself. Eventually he calmed down and said -- to himself: "Sorry Buddy, I didn't mean to get so angry."

Today I went with my mother to the doctor. In the waiting room, a man had a conversation with himself at the water cooler. Later he coughed but instead of covering his mouth, he flailed his arms wildly, as if to herd the germs away.

I think we're hanging out in the wrong places.

Learning to Fly

Sometimes you just want to check out. I don't mean suicide or drugs or even grave depression. I mean more of the nagging feeling that everything is going wrong, you can't catch a break, you can't find your center, every smile is forced. It's not getting up on the wrong side of the bed; it's not wanting to get out of bed.

There's an old saying that goes something like this:

Sometimes the only way to learn to fly involves being pushed off a cliff.

That's the way I'm feeling these days. I so want to fly. I want to soar. I'm just not sure how. (I'm also not sure I've actually hit the edge of the cliff yet.)

Then I feel incredible guilt at the selfishness of these thoughts.

I'm not loving these extremes. Yet, I am clinging to my belief that I will fly again.

I do not recommend the combination of quitting smoking, finalizing a divorce and job hunting.

Comfort Food

Like most people, I have certain trigger foods that immediately imply comfort. Some love mashed potatoes -- I guess I do too. But mainly, I crave gooey and cheesy. I could eat macaroni and cheese every day. I don't allow myself to do it but I could.

About a year ago, I was slightly underweight for my size. Those days are gone. I've enjoyed mac & cheese, ice cream, and other guilty pleasures quite often. Now that I've balanced back to the normal range, plus quit smoking (Day 19!) I know the weight will begin to pile on.

I had three bites of mac & cheese tonight with my dinner. I probably won't do that again for a while.

But life cannot be all torture. I will still have some ice cream.

Tired and Cranky

Aren't there always days when you're tired of being tired? This is one of those days. I'm tired of wanting a cigarette. I'm tired of looking for a job. I'm tired of waiting for my divorce to be finalized. I'm tired of catching a glimpse of me in the mirror -- looking tired.

And yet, I've gone two weeks without a cigarette and I haven't killed anyone yet. I have a couple of promising job prospects. I have a meeting later this week that will bring the divorce closer to closure.

I'm starting to believe I'm one of those odd, ridiculously chipper people. I took my dog this evening to a small street festival. I ate bad food and listened to a band. I was the only one who started dancing.

I will never be too tired or cranky to dance.

Random Thoughts about TV

With too much time on my hands, I'm guilty of one eye on the television.

TV is truly one of my guilty pleasures and I admit I always anticipate the beginning of the new season. Yesterday I watched the premiere of the Dr. Oz show. He's the doctor who rose to fame with regular appearances on Oprah. I've seen him on Oprah a number of times and liked him but his show isn't going to make it. I don't care how knowledgeable or charming you are, it's pretty tough to make health care interesting for a solid hour every day.

I also watched Whitney Houston on Oprah. Well, I watched Part One. I think she's still as messed up as she was when she was married to Bobby Brown. I think Oprah is so in love with her that to call it an "interview" is a serious stretch. It was more of a mutual fan club meeting.

Jay Leno is not doing anything new or dramatic. His new show is nothing more than The Tonight Show airing 90 minutes earlier.

That's all I've caught but it's early yet. Now I must turn off the television and take some dogs for a walk.

Another Loss

We woke up this morning to the news that Patrick Swayze lost his battle with pancreatic cancer. Not a shock to anyone but sad nonetheless.

His two big movie roles, Dirty Dancing and Ghost, remain two of my I-can-watch-it-over-and-over favorites. Especially Dirty Dancing. You know I love almost any form of dancing. Who would not have wanted to be Baby in that movie?

He seemed to be very humble about his weaknesses: smoking and drinking. He was passionate about his work and many causes. He seemed genuinely in love with his wife of over 30 years.

It will make me a little sad the next time I watch one of his movies.

Words of Encouragement

This morning I went out on the deck and found a note in the dew -- not the first one this week. Today's note said, "Day Nine -- Doing Fine."

It's amazing how something that simple and sweet can set your mood.

I promise not to make this entire blog about my efforts to become a nonsmoker but for the record, it is day nine. And I am still doing fine.

Thanks Dad!

Day Six

Still not smoking! I guess it's getting easier. I feel like it is and then I have a wave of something that makes me want to rip someone's face off. So far, I have been able to control myself.

Interestingly, I am craving the nicotine less than I'm craving the habit. I guess the Chantix must be doing its job. I still have my triggers:

Getting in the car
Leaving someplace where you can't smoke
After eating, etc.

My buddy is also hanging in there. She has a lot of nervous energy and is funneling it into home improvements. In a few days, she'll have remodeled her entire home.

I'm not deceiving myself -- there are lots of hard times, cravings and temptations ahead. But I'm starting to believe I can do it this time. If you understood how down I am about where my life is, you'd understand that feeling this hope is a gift.

"We Always ..."

It's slowly closing in on one year since my marriage ended. While I am still legally married, the beginning of the emotional end started in the Fall of '08.

Since then, we had another anniversary; we did not spend it together. We've both celebrated birthdays and his was a milestone one. We didn't see each other for either. Separately, we acknowledged the one-year anniversary of the deaths of his parents, my original oldies. Not to mention kids' birthdays, friends' anniversaries and the holidays.

Not that this is any harder for me than it would be anyone else but I love routine. I cherish tradition. And I love the idea of knowing our favorite menus, our regular vacation buddies and our holiday traditions.

We are not enemies and I don't think we're going to be. We're friendly but not friends. "Acquaintances" feels wrong -- it implies knowing someone but not well. We know each other scarily well.

So what are we? We are no longer a we.

Quitting Smoking

I am quitting smoking. Tomorrow is my first smoke-free day. I am excited and scared.

In my early years of working at the bank, everyone smoked. Right there in their offices -- it seems unheard of now. Conference rooms were decorated with huge crystal ashtrays. My boss and I spent countless hours working on budgets, plans and solving all the problems sharing a pot of coffee and filling the ashtray.

A few years later we moved into a brand new building -- Gasp! Nonsmoking! He decided to quit and we all cheered him on. But, I'll never forget him saying to me, "If I'm diagnosed with lung cancer, the first thing I'm going to do is buy a carton of cigarettes and smoke them all!"

Ok, he was in withdrawal. But I do understand the power of addiction.

Tomorrow is my turn. I've taken my Chantix even though I despise pills and I have a buddy enduring this with me. We figure we can hold each other accountable and also take our bitchy moods out on each other.

I'm telling you this for a couple of reasons:

I would appreciate support and prayers.
It's highly likely the mood of the blog may turn a little cranky for a bit.