Thank God, I'm patient. Well sorta. I mean at times. Oh ok, only on Monday mornings between 9-11AM. After that it's sporadic til Thursday about 3PM then I am good til Saturday am.
These are things I am thinking about nowadays:
I am a young widow in waiting.
I am a 45 year old woman in waiting.
I hate the sound of it.
I hate the look of it.
"I am 45 year old widow."
Oh and did I set up that interview?
Did I run the dishwasher?
I wonder what Steed wants.... oops. sorry my bad.
Honestly -- I wish I was in heat.
These past few weeks have been filled with wonder as I wander about - you might see me at Target or the mall just loafing about. Or you might've seen me at Criminal Records or Goodwill trying to get a little bit of retail therapy in. OR better yet I have been spotted at the gym. Sweating my grief out.
Exercise and sleep. Out by 9pm up by 6AM... two times I went to bed at 6:30 - oh hell why am I telling you this?
Bored out of my gourd?
No. I am trying to find my footing. I am trying to make sure each foot is steady - left foot - right foot - head up - shoulders back - stomach in - oh wait, that's charm school drills.
What? Jill in charm school? Gasp!
So I put on the alarm on the house.
And I wait,
And I think,
And I cry,
And I punch the pillows,
And I holler.
So what I am waiting on? Oh yeah, I'm still waiting on the answer of what took my husband... yeah. I am beginning to think it's a trick question. I am gonna start looking to the outliers for theories and hyperpole definitions. So I wait cause that's all I can do.
Open the garage door.
oh hell you get it.
You know, I have hugged alot of folks lately - I sure hope I smell ok, cause that's another story.