Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Dating? Disaster!

*DISCLAIMER* I wrote this blog a few weeks ago but hesitated in publishing it. I realize that some people who read my blog may not realize that my sense of humor is incredibly inappropriate and irreverent. This is especially true when it comes to my life and my struggles. It has always been my motto, "If you can't change it, find a way to laugh at it." Keep that in mind as you read the following post.

So, I am sure that the world is sick of my sad, angry and tortured blog content as of late. Not to discount the validity of those feelings and my writings of them but quite frankly, I am starting to depress myself these days. So, I got to thinking about what it might be like to date again. The simple thought of that alone sent me into hyperventilating hysterics. For those of you who were present for my dating life before Simon- whether you witnessed it, heard about it or god forbid - we actually dated, you might remember the neurotic cluster-fuck of a hot mess it was. Since Simon's death, friends, acquaintances and even a psychic told me that I'd find love again someday. They've all said in some way or another: "Simon would want you to date again and be happy." While I can see the logic in that, I have my serious doubts considering Simon essentially left me in this world as a crazy cat lady with four feline babies. If there was one surefire way to prevent any man from getting close to me again, that tactic is the proverbial grand slam.

But in all reality, while he was here, Simon only ever wanted me to be happy and I know that is certainly still the case. So that being what it is, I figure why not have some fun with it? This would be my golden opportunity to give back to the dating world some of the asinine karma it once bestowed upon me. The following is my daydream fantasy of what dating again might look like for me. So sit back, relax and chew on this tasty nugget of courtship candy:

Why not go back to the scene of where the dating crimes began: online dating. I'd set up my account and begin with the basics:
Name: Lady Stefany Martini of Grey Goose
Age: Of which personality?
Location: My own world
Hobbies: Naked origami, fairy hunting, collecting rare poop fossils and drinking Capri Sun (or anything from a bag)
Religion: Sesame Street
Occupation: Psych Nurse (don't really have to embellish that one too much)

My main profile picture would be one of the professional pictures from our wedding: me in my dress, holding my bouquet of roses looking wistfully out into the distance. Then I'd throw in a couple of our engagement pics and all the rest of photos would be of my cats doing random adorable things like sleeping upside down or wearing funny hats. In the "About Me" section, I'd post the lyrics to "Don't You Forget About Me" - theme song from the 80s hit movie "The Breakfast Club." (I suggest you check out the link for full lyrics...creepy!)

Once I lured an unsuspecting man into my evil plot, for our first date, I would insist that we meet at my place. When he arrived, I'd answer the door wearing a cheerleader outfit. I'd greet him squealing the inappropriately early-given nick name: "Fuzzy Wumble-Bum!" Then I'd throw my arms around him and hug him for about ten seconds too long. Then as I reluctantly let go, I say "Do you like my outfit? I picked it because I'm your number one cheerleader!" Then I flash him a big cheesy smile and kick my leg up in the air with a loud "Yay!"

Then I would give him a tour of the living room. I'd stand by quietly as he browsed my bookcase, overloaded with disturbing self help books with titles such as: "Embrace the Bag: The Entertainment Value of Douching" "Primal Sneeze Therapy" and "From Necromancer to Romancer: A Guide to Dating on the Dark Side." Then I'd gaze at him with a half glossed over look in my eyes and say, "Sorry if I seem kinda out of it. I haven't fed yet today."

Without skipping a beat, I'd say: "There is someone very special I'd like you to meet. I hope you don't mind but I invited him to come along with us tonight." At this point I'd present the urn with Simon's ashes to him with a very serious expression on my face. "This is my husband. I don't date anyone he doesn't approve of. His opinion is very important to me so be sure to make a good impression. I hope you understand." Then I'd lift the urn up to my ear, nod a couple of times and say, "He says he has a good feeling about you! Something about wedding bells..." as I give a wink and wiggle my eyebrows at him.

At this point, I lead him over to the couch, sit him down and dump a bag of cat treats on his lap. Within seconds, he would have all four cats crawling all over him. Then I'd strike up some casual conversation. "I try very hard to keep myself young at heart and not take life too seriously. Sometimes I poop my pants just to remind myself of what it was like to be a kid...you know, when times were simple and carefree."

It is at this point, I would expect him to make a bee line for the door. I would run after him and block the doorway. I'd start crying and whining, "Don't leave me! Please! Why don't you like me?" Then I'd throw myself on him, hugging him and wiping the snot from my nose onto his shoulder. "I can't stand being alone! Please, don't leave! I love you!" I'd let him struggle a bit to get out of my grip and watch with amusement as he runs for his car and burns rubber out of my driveway.

Smiling to myself, I'd go change out of my cheerleader outfit and call up my girls to meet for a glass of wine. Who needs a guy when you got the best girls around?

Friday, July 15, 2011

Back in the Saddle...Then out...Then back in again.

I don't hate people who are happy. I don't hate people who are in love, getting married and popping out babies. I don't even hate people who are not alone because they have their special someone. Nope. I don't hate those people at all. As a matter of fact, I loathe them. I should actually clarify that statement: I don't hate the people themselves but I am jealous as fuck that I, A) used to feel pretty darn happy on a regular basis. B) Was happily married and approaching the point of someday pushing out my own child. C) Was so grateful that I finally didn't feel so lonely because I had found true love. But the shitty ass part remains that it was ripped away from me before I even had the chance to get used to signing my married name instead of my maiden name. "Waaaaaah. Poor me!" I feel so sorry for myself - like a sad little bitch sometimes.

I suppose the good news is that I finally made it back to work again. That is good news, right? Most of the time, I believe it is. The night before I was due to start my second attempt at a first shift back to work, my kind and tender hearted friend, Kelly hog tied and abducted me. She proceeded to throw me into the trunk of her car and force me at gun point to face my work environment. She did this all with great love in her heart and for my own greater good. Boy, am I ever glad she did. The dry run of driving there, walking around work and saying hello to my amazingly supportive coworkers made it so much easier to show up for my first official day back to work the following evening. I also can't say enough about how amazing my coworkers have been. They have all greeted me with hugs, kindness and love. It feels good to be in a place where I feel so supported and cared about. It also feels good to be doing something productive with my time. Getting back to work was like riding a bike and even though I cried a lot, it felt good to be back in the saddle again.

As of this post, I find myself in a very weird place emotionally. Last weekend, I had a three night series of dreams about Simon that have stuck with me into my waking life. I dreamed that Simon was actually still alive and the dreams were SO REAL! I would wake up feeling so confused and it would actually take me a few minutes to remember that it was just a dream. Each morning, as that reality sank in, an intense sadness would follow. I've been walking around in a strange, sad haze of denial that has lingered for the past week. That state of being has triggered a lot of anger within me. Anger because of how real it felt to dream about him and then be slapped in the face with the reality that he is not here and never will be. SLAP! Oh, look at that couple with their beautiful new baby: SLAP! I have to sleep alone again tonight: SLAP! People growing old together: SLAP! Shit, I am single again: SLAP! This is so unfair: SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! I feel beat up by life lately and am getting pretty sick of being smacked around so mercilessly.

Lately, life has been a series of falling down and getting back up again. Getting into the saddle and slipping out again. Over and over. Sometimes I have the strength to stand back up. However, there are times when I take a tumble and want nothing more than just to stay in the messy, heaping pile of sadness and self-pity I landed in. Being brave and strong is exhausting and some days I just don't want to do it. Some days I physically and emotionally can't. Some days I don't want to face the challenges and difficulties of my new life. I find myself wanting to simply hide until I can muster up the gumption (or enough guilty feelings from neglecting life) to get up and go another round with my new reality. Up, down, up, down. Right now I feel like if I can avoid a TKO with gloves still on, then I am doing pretty good.

Friday, July 1, 2011

Work Release

Today was supposed to be my first day back to work since Simon died. I have been trying to prepare myself for this day but now that it is here, I don't think I can face it yet. I made the decision to call in to work and let them know I wouldn't be there today. I feel really badly and guilty about it but my frame of mind is not what it should be today. I feel extremely distracted and unfocused. I feel really anxious and jittery. If my job duties didn't involve the well-being of other human beings, it might be a little different. I mean, you can't give a computer or stack of paperwork the wrong medication or say the wrong thing to a fax machine. I just don't feel comfortable being at work in this frame of mind. It actually adds to the anxiety when I think about it.

The other aspect of all this has to do with the fact that Simon died at the hospital I work. Granted, it was a different unit but nevertheless, I spent so much time there with Simon. That place holds a lot of emotionally charged memories for me. It is hard to have to go to a place that reflects so strongly on both the professional and personal aspects of my life.

The thought of going back to work today is about as daunting as standing at the foot of a mountain that I am expected to climb in eight hours. I am sure I have it blow out of proportion in my mind. However, my current mentality is my current reality. I just couldn't seem to muster the ability to do it today. It know it sounds stupid, but I feel like a failure in a way- like I am a big wimp who can't handle her shit. I am sure that it won't be as bad as I imagine it will be and I am willing to bet that the distraction will be good for me. *Sigh* Tomorrow is another day and I will try again then.