Weddings and divorces and long holiday weekends, oh my
I am way out of sorts today. On the verge of tears, in fact, as I sit in a very public East Side place — surrounded by the ladies who lunch dripping in gold chains and adorned with frosted foot-ball-sized hair — typing this. I hate these long holiday weekends, especially when they back into a four-day work-week where I don’t really have a job anymore. I feel lost. I feel lonely. I feel useless. I feel (stir) crazy. Hopefully the fancy ladies won’t notice the fat girl in the corner sniffling over her bowl of fruit, which she really wishes was a big chocolate cookie.
I know what my problem is but I don’t know how to fix it. At least not right this moment. So I’m just going to write about it.
Back when lack of a paycheck and job and the imminent doom of government cheese weren’t concerns, I intended to fly out to Northern California this weekend and see a good friend get married. Although I know my decision to not go was a wise, mature one (so unlike me!), I’m sad that I’m not there to see her on one of the most important days of her life. I watched her work her butt off to become a doctor and suffer through her mother’s long illness and subsequent death, and it was about time to see her on a very happy day. Have a blessed, beautiful wedding day, dear Jess. My much happier spirit is there with you. I promise.
As a juxtaposition to that, I found out yesterday — via my sister-in-law’s Facebook status update — that my brother asked her for a divorce on Friday afternoon.
Apparently she updated her status about 6 minutes after he told her, and by the time it popped up on the top of my news feed some 15 hours later, the peanut gallery was in full-force yakking mode. The ugly comments from both her and her friends about my brother (at last count, prior to me unfriending her, there were 27 vile, ignorant remarks) brought tears to my eyes. I know there are two sides to every story and my brother hasn’t been a saint either. It boils down to two people who don’t even like each other any more and bring out the worst in each other. (And I’ve never been her biggest fan.) Part of me is relieved, but it is sad nonetheless. There is a child involved and it breaks my heart. And can I just say that I hate *&$%**a%%% Facebook? Please narcissistic attention-mongers, get a fucking therapist, don’t post shit like that on your page especially if HIS FAMILY DOESN”T EVEN KNOW YET. Ok, feel better. Maybe.
Last but not least, the third piece of my problem: I am lonely. Being alone most of the time is okay and doesn’t bother me so much. But loneliness is different, and it’s hit me hard today…in the middle of this long weekend, which is the kick-off to summer and fun, fun, fun. Sigh. I’ve lost a friend and a boyfriend in the last 9 months. And a job. These were all heavy bags that I needed to shed, but it doesn’t make it any easier. I’m not sure what my purpose is anymore, but I’m not going down without a fight. I’m going to dry my tears and try to figure out this thing called My Life.
So Happy Wedding Day, Happy Memorial Day, and Happy Divorce (to those who are happy about such things). And be sure read the short story I’m about to post in honor of the big D. It might just make you laugh.