He Delivers A Letter, Part I

Originally I had planned to write about the wonderful rehearsal we had last night and the soon-to-be-exciting things going on with the Whiskey Sisters.

I think I ought to say how I'm feeling right now, though, and what has led up to it.

I've got to eat in the mornings. The routine was a little off today - up at 6 instead of 5, no shower for mommy today (maybe later) which is not a big deal - it's not as if I've been working out or anything. Didn't have time to eat before I left the house.

Husband stayed over after being with the baby late last night. (I was home around 11 but they were already in a cuddle-lock and there was no moving either of them. Which was fine.) I got to bed late and my sleep was interrupted by some idiot trying to text message my number thinking it was someone else's. Let me just say that trying to compose a more-or-less polite text message at 1:30 in the morning is something of a challenge. But it pulled me out of a dismal, scary dream that I can't remember now, so it was probably a blessing in disguise.

Baby has the beginnings of another diaper rash - partly because the ladies at the day care haven't asked for more A&D and I haven't brought in the vaseline, my new low-cost substitute. I dropped it off to them today and had to fill out another med form because I'm switching diaper rash creams. Geez, Louise. At that point I started to become aware of some inappropriate anger (not annoyance, that's certainly appropriate with the day care). And I saw that things were a little wonky in my emotional world.

You didn't eat, silly girl, I thought to myself. Not a good tactical decision. And you're imagining husband's stress about getting to work on time. Let it go.

Fair enough. I didn't bother signing the baby in - if they're not going to leave a pen next to the sign-in sheets I'll be damned if I'm going to bother hunting one down. Annoyance again.

But what if there's a fire? I'm thinking now. That's what those damned things are for - to make sure they have all the kids out in case of emergency. OK, so I called Tristan and asked her to sign her in for me. One item corrected.

On the drive from the day care to work, we exhausted all the small talk. Nothing else to discuss except this monstrous specter of breakup and divorce haunting us both. Or maybe it's not haunting him - maybe he's already made his decision and is trying to make peace with it.

I started to feel the weight of the ghost. I started to realize how much was being left unsaid. It became overwhelming just in the ten minutes it took to go from one side of town to the other.

See what I mean about needing to eat? Blood sugar is a tricky thing.

Finally I said, "Sometime next week I would really like to talk. Clear the air. Say what needs to be said." Not sure why I chose to word it that way.

He agreed. I qualified: "You, too, not just me talking." At this point we had reached highway 64 from Blythe street.

He pulled a packet of folded notepaper from his jacket and handed it to me. "Here's the first dose," he said. I put it in my bag where it has remained since then. Ticking, like a little white bomb.

I'm going to eat something before I read it. And I'm going to read it in Tammy's office. She will understand if I have to cry for a little bit.

I will post again later, I promise.