I am not sure what to say other than I'm hungry. So hungry. For success, fulfillment, travel, chocolate croissants, an old wagoneer and surfboard, though the surfboard a little less now that Shark Week has been on religiously in our house all week. Oh and I am dieting, so basically every time I have seen food today, whether it's a food I like or not, I pined for it right fierce. Actually at one point I started drooling prematurely during a commercial and it turned out to be cat food. This is why I hate to diet, any time I restrict all I can think about is the fact that I am restricting and it drives me mad. But that's not the point of this post.
I honestly don't really know what is, I just felt compelled to write and not hound DC. I have been in the throes of yet another existential crisis, almost all day and have been trying not to burden him with it.
What's there to say?
Honey, I am deeply fulfilled by your love, yet somehow there is still a gaping abyss inside of me that yearns for a purpose that is more than pouring decaf coffee and making Bloody Mary's. That combined with feeling an acute sense of shame over the state of my checking account has left me positively drained.
I'm just rotten aren't I? I've begun to think that's it. That I can't just happily accept my starving artist status and say I'm a bartender/writer and believe I am on my way. Instead today when I tried to pay for my gym membership and found the cost a little steeper than I imagined it to be, yes poor planner me, I promptly left the gym sans a workout as I could not pay, got in my car (correction my boyfriend's car) and wept, repeating to myself, you're just a waitress. You are just a waitress.
Then I watched Steve Martin on Conan, playing his banjo, cracking jokes, being brilliant and I simply ached. Ached for all of it. I want to write music and then play it. I want to be in skits and plays. I want to walk the red carpet. I want to see the whole world and I want to tell everyone about it, while being superbly witty and sensational. I want to be grand and I always have. I am not ashamed to say so, either.
I can't understand why I yearn for so much, though. I saw a commercial where this guy looked as if he were at some big bash in Mexico, there were a lot of colors, people, and a painted elephant. I didn't really get the gist of what the product was, probably beer, but I just thought, I want to be at a party with a painted elephant.
It's not even that I don't appreciate the small beauty of what is, I truly can and do, it's just the what isn't feels so large that it swallows the what is.
But here's a what is that was really wonderful. I found a sliver in my thumb today, one that I suspect I got days ago and didn't realize was a sliver until now. I panicked as I don't have my mom to take it out and I surely couldn't do it as I am a sissy and a half.
I told DC and held up my thumb to show him. He promptly said, "I'll get it out." I would say I was stunned because I would never have the cojones to get a sliver out of his thumb. Nor would I offer to share my frosting off my cupcake, or give away my pickle spear that came with my meal, or any one of the things that DC easily and lovingly does for me without thought because he knows how happy it'll make me. So it came as no surprise that he again knew how much I would appreciate not having to remove my own sliver and took initiative.
He couldn't get it out, as it was really down in there, but the gesture has been warming my heart all night. I mean truly, I am more impressed with this man and the fact that he was willing to stick a safety pin in my thumb, than I would be if he bought me a dozen long-stemmed roses and a Tiffany's necklace. I mean it. He is the tops.
So I guess that's the point. I had to write this to understand that I may not be parading around with a painted elephant (today at least) but I have a man who loves me enough to share his pickles with me and do pre-op on my finger. And while people may have nice jobs and 401k's, not everyone has a DC.