My stomach woke me on Monday morning. Sour as old milk. I was anxious like nothing I knew before. It was the final day that the passport could be ready and NOT have to change our flight information. And I was anxious. Hell, anxious is a LARGE understatement. I was in panic mode.
When hubby2B woke, he also had funky-tummy … tho based on HIS symptoms, I’d have to say that it had to be sympathy rather than anything we had eaten that had gone off. We’d all (mom and dad too) eaten basically the same thing. Except that hubby2B and I had also managed to swallow some caribbean sea spray on our trip out to Palisadoes on Sunday. I can’t imagine that would have caused an upset tummy, if swallowing the damn thing all last week in whole mouthfuls did nothing for me.
…
BTW: anyone else notice that my beloved shipwreck just off the coast by the airport traffic circle is completely broken apart now? =(
…
So anyway, we stayed in most of the morning on Monday. Hubby2B insisted that we head out and get some stuff done in the afternoon though, cos well, if the passport arrived the next day, then we’d have little or no more time to get anything done. At first I was a little miffed because I wanted to stay in and mope. Then after we actually accomplished stuff, I felt like I should listen to hubby2B more often … cos I ended up feeling SO much better getting stuff done. So much so, when we called to inquire whether the passport WAS available, I didn’t blink when we were told it wasn’t.
Today, I held out no hope. So I wasn’t looking forward to calling them today as much as I had been yesterday. I called and gave them the information they needed to search for my case and sat there humming. It wasn’t until the woman came back to the phone and started asking me where insert-road-name-here is that I realized that something was different about this phone call.
My breath caught as the woman asked for what sounded like directions. I didn’t breathe until about a minute or so later when it became clear to me that the passport WAS there and that what this woman was attempting to do was determine where to deliver it.
“Forget that”, I told her, “I’m comin’ down there now!”
I think she was a little shocked. She insisted that the courier would get to me either today or tomorrow morning. I told her that I was out on the road and that I was on my way to her. After a few more seconds of this back and forth, I heard her tell the courier to leave the passport at the front desk for me, then she came back to me and told me to make sure I had my claim ticket.
WEWT!!!!
Next step was to call the travel agent. Even though hubby2B and I weren’t able to get on a flight out today, we’re still ecstatic. We’re going home! At last! It feels like it has been torture these last few days, even though it really hasn’t been that bad at all. It’s mostly been my high-strung emotions that have made it all so dramatic.
My parents, of course, aren’t all that happy at all. It’s turning me on my ear a bit … I WANT to be happy… but I can’t. I have to be sober for them. But I can’t HELP but be happy, so how do I “hide” it? Maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe my being HAPPY will bring them out of that moroseness that they’ve now adopted as their standard veneer. /sigh
Doubt that very sincerely. Especially since my father thinks I was rude to him when all that happened is that he finally heard me react to HIS rudeness. I don’t think he’ll ever realize just how overbearing and intrusive and offensive he is. And I don’t know that I can or will ever attempt to show him. So we part on somewhat tense and distant terms … but maybe he will recognize once and for all that I am separate and apart from him and that he can’t keep pretending like I will always be his baby girl.
One of the things that I keep thinking about with some resentment is that he went out and on his own bought a tree – a miniature June Plum tree – because I like them so much. Now that it is bearing, all I can hear is that I am not eating them and that the tree was bought and planted for me. While I appreciate the gesture and am very flattered that he thinks that much of me, I resent being blackmailed into eating something that was once a pleasure and has now become an obligation. I don’t enjoy eating june plums anymore simply because if I “don’t eat them, they go to waste” …. well hang it … did I ASK for you to go flood me with little annoying june plums that just sit and demand to be eaten?
There is so much I have learned these last 3 or so months. One of those things is that I now can say without guilt that I canNOT live with my parents. Moving out, away from them was never an act of defiance, it was an act of self-preservation and these last 3 months have nearly destroyed everything that I had built for (and of) myself in the last 5 or so years. Imagine that! 3 months taking out 5 years … cold! Ha!
Thank the goddess for honey-sunshine! I would be dead, or stark raving mad by now if it wasn’t for him. Then again, if it wasn’t for him, I’d still be out on my own too. giggle In any case, he has remained my sanity throughout this process. There is nothing that is more rewarding that having someone say to you by their actions that every agonizing step you take toward them is MORE than worth it.
=)
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