Thursday, April 8, 2010

Day 2 in the Great Big Scary World

At the risk of losing my reputation for being heartless, I am taking a serious moment. THANK YOU to all of you. I have received phone calls, texts, emails, Facebook posts and support from a dozen other technologies. I am overwhelmed by all the wonderful friends I have! I will never deserve you or your kindness! But I am SO grateful for it! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

No Floundering Single-Adult Left Behind Act

Last night I sent my Austi off to the big scary world of...well, her parents house. No, she is going into the MTC this afternoon and since I don't fall into the 'We share the same blood' category, I don't get to see her again before she goes in. Being the one to go on a mission wasn't so bad. But being the one who gets left behind - well, that really sucks! It means when I go home tonight, I will be totally, utterly, hopelessly alone. I HATE being alone. It also means my brain is kinda short-circuiting right now...trying to find a way to not succumb to the dark abyss of loneliness and hermitage looming on my doorstep. Here are some of my more proactive options:
My 'freaking-out-because-I-hate-being-alone' side is compelling me to make a poorly thought out decision to buy a puppy. Which will surely end in soiled carpets; drooled on, chewed on furniture and a large number of friends who might not come to visit me anymore.
My 'I'm-not-quite-sure-how-to-live-without-Austi-anymore' side says that mortality ought to have a switch. I can switch to angel mode while she is gone and go with her on her mission as her trusty guardian angel, then simply switch back to alive and well mode when she comes home. Too bad the decision to morph into angel mode is...well...irreversable.
And then there's the 'Let's-be-rational-and-deal-with-this-like-a-big-kid' side...I don't know what it's telling me to do. Whatever it's saying, I am not listening. In fact, I never listen. I usually act like a three-year-old with my hands over my ears, singing at the top of my lungs and taunting 'I can't hear you!'
I think I'll resort to my usual method of combating hard things: pretend they don't exist and maybe they'll go away. If I pretend she isn't gone long enough, she won't be! :) Yep, sounds like a good plan to me.