Monday, October 24, 2011

The Blob


The blob is my day. My week. My year. The blob is me.

I suffer from blob-itis, a condition of acute shapelessness that struck me when my thirty-year marriage ended at pretty much the same moment that my well-feathered nest launched its last fledgling. After decades of running, tending, and attending the clock wound down and the calendar emptied out. Oh, there was plenty to do, but nothing as regular as seeing a kid off to school or putting breakfast on the table or waiting for the sound of the garage door opening. The band was still playing, but no one was keeping time. I made appointments and forgot them even though I wrote them down because the days felt interchangeable. The things I did seemed  non-essential--things that someone else could do just as well or even better.

I'm still struggling with trying to construct a regular schedule. In this fantasy of attacking the blob, I harbor secret desires to meet the same friend every Sunday for tea and yet another friend on Mondays for Margaritas. The first Thursday of the month? Well, that must be my writer's group. The last Tuesday? Knitting circle. Sunday? Well, what should I make for the potluck? None of these regular engagements are real, but in the calendar of my dreams, they are inscribed in big block letters and I relish their approach calendar page after calendar page. And of course, the largest portion of my day would be hugely important. To someone or something.

I sometimes wonder if I might have been a good nun or a soldier or a school teacher. Instead my days dissolve without the sounding of a single bell to mark their passing. The fact of the matter is that everyone I know is busier than I am. They have husbands and jobs and meetings and kids or grandkids or elderly parents that live nearby. They have people who are counting on them to do whatever it is that they do.



But the battle of the blob continues. Mondays, Wednesdays and Sundays, I will walk dogs for the San Gabriel Humane Society--dogs kenneled for days at a time--like the ones I walked this past weekend.




On Thursdays I hope to do some kind of something (notice how this is already crumbling?) at the DWC while I wait to see if they have room in their schedule for a writing workshop. One weekend a month I will drive 400 miles to see my son and his family. One weekend a month I will fly to Baltimore to see my mother. Quick, if you want to schedule a regular anything, now's the time. I'm gonna harness my life into some sort of shape.

photo credit: vintageadbrowser.com

8 comments:

stephanie said...

I'm happy you're walking dogs.

Marsha Rosenzweig Pincus said...

it is really interesting to read your blog. i just had my chart done. i know that we share the same date of birth and that despite the differences in our exact time and place of birth, the configuration of our planets is very much the same. it will not surprise you that i feel exactly the same way about my days... i keep saying, i need an infrastructure and i am trying desperately to build one for myself... this comment isn't really making much sense...what i really mean to say is, i'm feeling you here, denise. my astrologer says that i am in a time of major transition... have been for years... seems like you are too.. i will keep reading your blog, hoping to find clues from your journey to perhaps help me figure out mine.. thanks for writing this!!!

Elizabeth said...

I'm up for a beer lunch on Wednesdays.

Birdie said...

I don't know. I have two teenagers and up until 4 weeks ago was looking after my mom. I have a finance a house a yard and a job. I still feel like I am missing something. I feel like everyone else is doing important things and I am just sitting and staring at the world hoping I can and will do something one day. It seems the rest of the world is *living* and I can barely get up in the morning. One of my favourite quotes is from the movie "Sister Act". When asked about why she decided to become a nun, the young nun states, "It's that all my life everybody seems to be doing or catching on to things a second faster or better than me." I really get that. Anyway, you are not alone. Keep walking the dogs. They are glad that you show up. :-)

Anonymous said...

I've spent the past three years trying to build a life for myself. Kids gone, mostly, full time work now, no husband (thank god) but now what am I? It's slowly coming together. I see a friend/lover once a week. Exercise. Take care of my mother and daughter on weekends. Movie or live show once in awhile. The ballet in two weeks. Two concerts comings up. But I want something more. Perhaps this is as good as it gets.

Ms. Moon said...

This is interesting. I think we All feel we might be missing out on things. I tell you what though- I don't care any more. Let the world just blow right on by me. I'm happy to sit here and not participate. Is that wrong?

Maggie May said...

I read through some of this blog, and your Birthmother blog, and really, really enjoyed myself. Your candor and forthright way of writing is awesome. I'm glad I found you.

S Kay Murphy said...

Wow. I think I enjoyed reading the comments today almost as much as I enjoyed reading your blog post. You have nice readers, Denise. ;D