The Retreat and Flossing

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I’ve hidden myself up in the mountains for a couple of days.  I was getting so overwhelmed by the crap in my head that I decided to run away.  I was so tired that when I needed to remember something for a minute or two, a code to type in on an internet site or whatever, I couldn’t recall a line of six or seven numbers even for a few seconds.  Where I am is quiet, and cold (it’s in a mountain pass), but there is good food and for better or for worse, internet.  So I can write and publish from here.

Overall, I know that what I’m going through is not such a big deal.  I mean, lots of people get divorced. That said, everyone dies, too, but it’s still a pretty big deal when it happens to you. And I don’t really want to get divorced.  I want my husband to have sex with me and find me attractive and desirable.  Like my lovers.  (I don’t actually know if they find me attractive, but they do desire me and want to have sex with me).  The ex-cop is even sort of becoming a friend, too.  His brother is in real estate financing, so I’m going to ask him to help me set up a loan for the apartment I want to buy.

But today I did manage to get out of the house where I was on an every-half-hour crying jag.  I took my beautiful new-to-me car. I went for a short walk on the way up to the pass, which was pretty and calming.  When I got here, I napped.  Then I woke up and did some yoga.  I ate dinner.  I took a shower.  I flossed.  I meditated.  I chatted with the guy I met on Thursday.  There is never anything going to ‘happen’ there, but he’s fun to talk to.  He said that he thinks I’m cool.  Duh.  Of course I’m cool.

Of all the previous things, flossing is the most important.  Flossing means I believe in the future.

 

 

 

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