When Matthew died, it really changed how I interacted with those in our neighborhood. Like with the exception of a few, I didn’t actually interact. Like when I saw people I knew “before” I, quite literally, ran as fast as I could in the opposite direction, and I also threw away block party invitations, and we turned our lights off for Halloween (not that anyone trick or treats anymore), and, one time, when I saw one of our neighbors, Ed, behind me in the checkout line in the grocery store, I put all of my newly-dyed dark hair over my face (Cousin It style) and silently prayed he didn’t see me. I saw Ed a few more times thereafter, each of which I pretended I didn’t know him. Continue reading
relationships
Wedding anniversary – 9 years
Tomorrow’s our wedding anniversary. It’s been nine years. NINE YEARS. Nine years is almost ten years – a decade. I don’t even know how this is possible. When we married, I was almost 23, and Mark had just turned 22. We were babies. Continue reading
Thinking of your blender… and you… but mostly your blender.
Recently I’ve been reminded (in the most bizarre of ways) that we have one extraordinarily special blender. It’s practically a national treasure, it seems. It’s commercial grade – the one you’d find at St. Louis Bread Company or Smoothie King – it’s a Blendtec. And Mark purchased it several years ago from Amazon for ~$7,000. Continue reading
Complex feelings over a not-so-complex email
“Hi Christine! It’s been a long time since we’ve chatted and caught up. I’m sorry I haven’t reached out to you. Now that tax season is over, I wanted to see if you’d like to get together for lunch sometime. Are you available in the next few weeks for a lunch date? Look forward to hearing from you!” Continue reading
When tables turn
She enters my office and shuts the door. She sits down across from me. It’s a cold, Friday evening in January. It’s after hours, already dark outside. My office is nearly pitch black, as there’s no sunlight coming through the window – no sunlight to make up for my lights being off. Only the light from my two monitors illuminates my face. The light from the hallway transforms her into a shadowy silhouette like from one of those crime shows where they black out the witness to conceal her identity. I abruptly stop what I’m doing. Continue reading
chickydoodles 