Unpopulated opinion

Today I meant to own my piece and just explain why I'd said what I'd said yesterday, but a whole lot more came out. It felt honest and fair, but unexpected. I was told it had the right amount of heart and earnestness and upset, so that's good to hear. And this along with the other situations weighing reminds me that I would rather be this way than not and quiet.

A prayer for laundry

I'm trying to think about it rationally, though it's difficult when I'm this frustrated. I honestly think it's 80-90% of the time that I do laundry here, the app stops working, loses connection with my account or the machines, or crashes entirely. Yes, think about needing to use an app to do your laundry. If you are thinking to yourself that I need to just move already, I invite you to try to find an affordable apartment with a washer and dryer on your own. What's especially difficult is that others don't seem to have nearly the issues I do with this app, so I'm left with what appears to be more evidence that I am surrounded by some kind of cloud that prevents technology from working. There is detergent in the machine now, but the app isn't working at all, even after closing it 15 times, restarting the phone and even reinstalling the app. There is nothing to do but leave my soap in the washer and stop doing laundry- it doesn't matter that I have the time right now and no one is waiting. Did I mention that we have one washer and dryer for fourteen people? Are you familiar with the revulsion of having to pick other people's pubes out of the washer? I got so frustrated I had to lie down on the floor and breathe or I was going to throw my phone out the window. 

I am envisioning a clean, nice laundry room- not just a closet- but a room I can step into- one that has space for shelves and drying racks and cleaning supplies. Maybe it even has a sink. It's got a full size washer and dryer that require no coins or apps. I can just turn the machine on and let it run while I do other things. No one is calling dibs on next and I can leave home and not worry that I have to get back by the time the towels finish drying. I can leave baskets in the laundry room and even drop something on the floor without needing to wash it again. I don't have to put on shoes or presentable clothes or a coat to do laundry, and maybe I'll even join in on the 3-5 business days to put laundry away joke. I can do laundry any day or every day. Someday.

A little all over the place, but now shaded

I think I felt all the feelings today, but a lot of things happened.

The carport was finally repaired. It took seven months and in that time I received zero communication from the office despite my calls, emails, work orders, and visits. The maintenance guys were the only ones to talk to me about it and thankfully they told me work would be done today. They said it had been a nightmare for them to try to get it replaced and it took forever for the materials, so that explains the wait, but not the office's actions. Maintenance also said the office would send a notice about the work, but of course that didn't happen. I'd moved my car and the others were at work, so that worked out. 

I had a nice connecting talk with some coworkers, made progress on projects, and got let go by a nice yet unsure man I'd just started seeing. I appreciated him telling me, and it did seem as though he was unsure about many things in his life, so I wasn't surprised, but it was a little disappointing anyway. I can relate, because I usually feel unsure but I have gotten used to that, so I just try to make my way with that feeling, not expecting it to leave. 

I got some rough news yesterday and some rough news today, but today I was reminded of the Rashi quote, "Receive with simplicity everything that happens to you." It makes sense to me because there is often nothing to be done about it and it often turns out better than I thought it would. Yesterday I cried at the probability that I would have to redo a very painful procedure, and today it was disheartening news on the job front. The bearer of today's news saw my reaction and said not to get down by it but to trust in the bigger picture. I would love to be able to see more possibilities in my immediate reactions than just the bad news. I wonder if that is a conscious movement of perspective or seeing evidence over time.

Tomorrow is a different painful procedure, so perhaps it's fair that I am feeling dismayed. But tomorrow I get to have the I Don't Care meds, and I am looking forward to not giving a shit for a couple hours. Today my kind massage therapist brought my medic alert bracelet by after I'd forgotten it at her office several days ago. Discussing the biopsy, she said to look at it as though I was being core sampled, and that made me laugh. When the contractors were building the new carport, I brought out cold bottles of water and a Powerade- unsure again, thinking they probably had their own water, but they were very happy and grateful, so that was nice. And when they were gone, I moved my car into my shady carport, and my neighbors who live above it came rushing out to applaud. They have been such great supporters, lamenting the delay, chasing people out of my parking spot, and even making requests in the office on my behalf- asking them to at least mark my spot somehow until the carport was fixed. It was nice to celebrate with them!

And Sarah came to hang out tonight, so we ate some food, caught up, and looked at mens. She knows I can get reluctant to try. To take you on a weird analogy, it feels to me like when worms are stranded all over the sidewalk. I cannot bypass them to dry out and die, so I move them to the grass- every single one I find. When looking through potential people to meet, there are some definitely nots and some maybe, but most are probably perfectly fine people that I can't tell enough or don't feel any particular way about, but don't all those deserve a chance? I can't pick them all up off the sidewalk so I start to feel overwhelmed, but then Sarah and I look through together. I explain why I'm stuck on an arbitrary guy and she offers some practical point. I've also been watching Hoarders because it motivates me to 1) get rid of things and 2) get rid of things the way I'd like. The swiping exercise today had me thinking of Hoarders because I was stuck in a house of profiles I didn't know what to do with, and my organizer/psychologist showed up and now I'm cruising through, able to say keep or go. That was another unpleasant metaphor for dating. I'm going to have to wrench my perspective toward a more positive example.

Jennyway, my point was that many lovely things happened today too, especially because it's supposed to get very hot this weekend and I have a shady spot for the summer.

Groceries'll get ya

I get sad every time I leave Winco. Not inside- usually. Just outside when I push my cart into the parking lot and over the speed bump because it entertains me. That makes me think about Ant pushing the cart all crazy when he was little. Then I get sad and a little mad. I marvel at how long the people close to me have been married, and how they can really choose if they want to do things with friends or just be with their person. It makes me wonder if they ever think about that when weighing my invitations: I wonder if she’s lonely. I put my same groceries in the same car in the same parking lot for ten years. I try to see myself through Ant’s eyes now: still Jenny, still the same. I put the cart away and think about when Ant was always with me- when he was young enough to run everywhere. Returning the cart was his job, and he took it seriously. He would look both ways carefully, knowing I was watching. Then he’d push the cart all the way in to the corral and then jungle gym his way back out, dropping to the ground and running back across the lane, forgetting to look, me yelling at him to look, having already looked. Routine. We’d go home the same way, but now I go straight instead of turning right. I think about how alone I am. Ant has grown up. Riley’s gone. Daniel’s gone. Gus is gone. I’m still here.

Maybe I need a new grocery store, but it’s really more the other things: I need a new job, a new home, a new love story. Besides, have you BEEN to Winco? It’s lovely. I chose to come back to this area because of the sidewalks, the trees, the grass, the routes, and my beloved Winco. I don’t think I would feel so sad if anything had changed for me in all this time. I couldn’t have known that, and things will change. I like to think I am proactively grieving now so that I don’t have to do it when I put different groceries in a different car in a different neighborhood. Maybe writing this will help me stop feeling so lonely, and maybe one of these days I’ll walk into my home and someone will be in there making dinner. Let’s hope it’s someone I know, haha.

Emotional support human

I just wanted to take a moment to applaud- or at least acknowledge- my dog's emotional growth. That sounds insane but wait. When he came to live with me he was quiet and meek. He was an ANGEL and I was amazed that I'd received this precious baby boy. Then he got comfortable and started destroying birdseed bags and climbing onto chairs to pee on them and no one believed me that he was anything other than a sweet baby precious angel. His personality started to show and I learned that he was brave and maybe a little reckless. He loves all dogs and only shows aggression when he's hanging from another dog's mouth. That only happened once, with a breed you wouldn't expect it from, and faster than either of us owners could react. That is the only dog Gus stopped wanting to be friends with. Well, that one and the Corgi that antagonizes him, but he forgets and starts over with that dog every time they meet. He's like Dory when it comes to making friends. 

He also showed me his fears, like abandonment or a running dishwasher. For years now I have been running my dishwasher at bedtime, when we could be safely snuggled in the bedroom with a movie on to cover the noise. I try hard not to ever run it during the day and I would never start the dishwasher and then leave him alone with it. He used to leave the room as soon as I'd start it but in the last couple years he has worked up to going into the kitchen to get a drink or even check his bowl while the evil machine was humming. Lately he's stayed snoozing in his bed, seemingly unfazed. I was just trying to plan out my bath vs dishwasher timing and realized I can probably try running it in the daytime now, though I'll still watch him for stress and take him for a walk if it starts worrying him. I'm just impressed with his growth and trust in his safety. It makes me wonder what kind of slow growth I've had going on over the past few years. He's a good model for bravery, resilience, and optimism. He's also no longer afraid that I'll throw him in the dumpster, but maybe that's because he can't see anymore.

Sad day

Leo left today for Florida. We had two months of warning but it still had us all upset. Sunday we did a big furniture swap- he wasn't taking any so he bestowed it on the group. We moved his couch and chair, his entertainment center, his dresser, nightstand, and kitchen table to new homes and shuffled whatever it displaced. On Monday, we had a goodbye party and sat outside eating snacks and chatting. We took lots of pictures. Today I happened to be off so I was able to hang out with him until he left. I helped him put the last things that would fit in his truck and promised to find homes for the things that didn't. We took lots of breaks because he was already tired and it was nice to sit with him a few more times. A couple neighbors dropped by to say goodbye and said to make sure he texts the core group nightly because otherwise we'd probably send out a search party. We've all cried and everyone had their individual goodbyes. I got to see him off and we both cried then. Megan came home later and we went into his apartment to assess the task list, but ended up just diving in. We cleaned and sorted and heard from Leo before we got too worried. He made it to his first destination, so we shared the news and then sat in sad exhaustion for a while. I was hoping that we were somehow taking on his exhaustion so he'll have the energy needed for this trip.

It's more than just a dear friend moving away, though we hope to visit. It feels like the end of an era, like the fellowship is breaking. It is, I'm sure, because nothing this good lasts. This has been an amazing group of neighbors. Weirdly enough, COVID created our bond and delivered Leo to us. We all needed some local family and we found it on the breezeway. We got each other through a pandemic and have been there for each other through plenty of other crises and celebrations. The night one of our dogs got attacked, this building came alive with protectors. We're protective of our people, but mess with our animals and we come unglued. It's amazing to know that support is right next door and across the hall and downstairs. 

Circumstances dictated a new chapter for him, as it will for all of us. Rent is outrageous and that's even with shared laundry. There's no budging on that front so I guess we'll all have to rethink our plans at some point. I think this change will be better for him, though it'll take time to see it that way. I hope that's the same for all of us.

Leo's absence was felt immediately by all of us and I've been informed that we're not going to like the person(s) that move in. I remain optimistic because I can't help it, and I like to believe that community can change and still exist. But we miss you already, Leo, and I hope you know how much we love you. We wouldn't clean just anyone's apartment.

Coming back

Mom says Jan always said the key to happiness is to have no expectations. 

Does that mean stop having them or override them? I'm not sure if the inclination is stubbornness or naivete, but I have no idea how to stop.

I feel really disappointed, for big and piddly reasons, and it's not like I'm exempt from letting people down. I keep looking for someone to confide in or vent with and maybe that's the hard lesson- that person is yourself and you've got to navigate it alone. Maybe that's what was meant by the north node. That sucks. 

I saw a thing online that said if you think everyone hates you, you need to sleep, and if you hate everyone, you need to eat. Sound advice, I think. Simple things. Things like writing.