April 13, 2009

Patsy Cline – Lovesick Blues

Got through another night alone. Well, not entirely. I had my daughter Jessie, her three year old, Benny, the dogs, the cat, and Slumdog Millionaire for company. But I still felt that underlying urge to sing the blues.

Someone posted that her husband probably sings the blues when she IS at home. I think she was kidding, but it made me aware of how easily relationships can get old, and slide into that state where you wish he would just leave, already, and you’re counting the minutes until he does, instead of the minutes until he gets back. Then again, I think with experience behind me, I can keep this fresh and wonderful and fun, and avoid us getting all bored and mundane with it.

So that’s another positive thing I’ve found to ponder. I hope it always bothers me this much to be away from him. Better than being chained at the hip–freedom is so so precious. Space is mandatory, and healthy. We give each other that. And missing each other this much is far better than not missing each other at all.

So today, I’ll keep myself busy, busy, busy. Gotta return that Cardio Twister I bought before time runs out. (Junk!) Gotta revise the synopsis for KILL ME AGAIN, and then I’ve got to start writing that story, which is going to kick ass! Got to workout. Not sure I’ll have the ovaries to go for an outside run today with a high of about 49 predicted. Brrrr! But I’ll either do that or Slim in Six, in front of the TV. (Best workouts on DVD)

And today, if you drive past my house, you’ll likely hear me singing along with Patsy Cline. And while I can hold my own with Sheryl or Stevie or Eva, I can’t come close to that heartbroken warble of the late-great Patsy.

However, that won’t stop me from trying. So, if you are driving past, you might want to keep your windows rolled up and your radio blasting, if you don’t want your ears to bleed.

Goal for the day–Enjoy every second, relish this dry spell for what it tells me about me, and about us, and feel like a million bucks come nightfall.

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