Mr. Chartwell Comes for a Visit

Nate and I watch a few minutes of TV together in the morning while he eats his bagel and I catch my breath from rushing to get things done so I can get busy doing other things, apparently. At least that's how it feels.

Lately, we've been seeing a lot of this G.E. commercial. The other day, after having seen it for maybe the third or fourth time, Nathan said "I want that kind of life without the cancer part." I knew exactly what he meant.

My mind clicked through a zillion things I wanted to say. The warnings for how quickly it goes, the pros and cons of weighing yourself down with responsibilities too young so that you can't have that life, the missteps, the potholes and obstacles that keep you from watching those sunrises and, worse, keep you from noticing the beauty of the sunsets.

Instead I just said "Yeah, me, too."

He looked at me funny because he knows that it's probably halfway over for me, maybe more so, and I don't have any thing resembling that life. My memories do not include camping in the desert or trips to the beach or climbing mountains. My memories are more about holding back, not doing things, staying in. I couldn't be bothered to be yanked from my routine. I was too busy, or some kid would throw up in the car or there'd be long lines and crowds and bad traffic. There was no money, we weren't the kind of people who would enjoy such and such, it would be a huge hassle, I'd be the one to have to do all the planning...

Et cetera infinity.

When MathMan and I hooked up, I didn't realize that I should have sought out someone who would draw me out instead of reinforcing my inclinations. Left to my own devices, I wouldn't do anything fun that involved leaving the cocoon. Sadly, MathMan is not the type of person to take me by the hand and tell me that it was time to change, to get out and do things. Oh, he tried, but he quailed quickly in the face of resistance. My resistant face is not pretty. It's fanged, with a hint of chartreuse. I guess he didn't find it worth the effort to kick my ass when I needed it.

I thought about this the other day as I mowed the ridiculously large lawn. How much time do I spend on the mundane, have to bullshit while my life is zooming by? Hell, my life-montage would be one long, dull series of household tasks and work that I didn't enjoy.

What a shame. I'm mad at me for this because I only have myself to blame. I mentioned it to MathMan who didn't seem to want to talk about it. He's terribly preoccupied with things that I know nothing about. That makes me sad.

Comments turned off because anyone giving me a virtual hug, a chin up or advice right now would likely be bitten.