Wednesday, October 15, 2008

So foul and fair a day I have not seen...

~ MacBeth, Act I, Scene III

I went to sleep last night with anxiety and I awoke in my nightmare...albeit, at least it's a minority nightmare...

I'm just pissed today. Pissed at all the apathetic, blameless, sanctimonious, smug, superiority complex ridden twats out there that split the vote or just didn't bother last night (oh, don't take it so personally, I'm just venting!!)...it is truly beyond me how 39% of 59% of voters enable a right-wing, ideologically driven, sanctimonious, smug, superiority complex ridden twat to run this country...foisting censorship upon us, ridding us of rights that have been hard fought for and won, endorsing the emptiest of rhetoric and giving us more empty rhetoric in return..."a strengthened mandate"...indeed...

...and then to top it all off, my hubby's off for ten days to Vipassana. I can't begrudge him in the least because it's his turn to sit in Noble Silence and envelop himself in the quiet and solitude amidst a roiling and fervent stream of consciousness...besides, I signed him up for it...

It's only been hours and I miss him already. Part of my mantra when I was gone to Vipassana myself was to recite first thing every morning, "six more sleeps, six more sleeps...five more sleeps, five more sleeps..." counting down until I was home again. So far, my new mantra is "that's one night" whilst I busily distract myself with laundry, lunches, clean up, Corrie and writing.

I'm sure that I'm much like anyone else out there and that whenever change is afoot, my initial reaction is somewhat reticent. As much as my anxiety was primarily due to my husband's imminent departure (and definitely intensified by the crappy election results of yesterday) the funny thing is part of me is relishing the time alone.

I remember a scene from Hope and Glory, a film about growing up in post WWII England and one of my absolute favourites. Part of the draw is that it was nostalgic and a touch romantic for me as my mum often described playing around in bombed out, burnt out shells of buildings as her playground growing up which was a big part of the setting of this film, so it brought to life for me a part of my mum's history; but one line I clearly remember from that film is when the main character's mother is chatting with her male friend (the undercurrent of the interaction being based on a somewhat unrealized love affair between the two) on a train ride home from the beach one day and she speaks about how she never quite grew accustomed to sharing a bed with her husband (who was at that time off at war).

I know how she fe
els...it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I don't love and lust after my Mav, because in many ways I live for the feeling of rolling over in bed and resting beside him and having him reach out to me and hold me...however...after 10 years as a single mother and only sharing my bed when I really wanted to and then even after being married, giving over to his not being home due to multiple night shifts in a row, I've realized that I usually sleep really well when all alone. I roll over to his side of the bed, stretch out and barely move for the entire evening...truly, barely an inch...

So, although I did advise myself that I should not in my foul and fair day mood write anything for publishing today, I'd say this is rather tame...so, I'm bemoaning my quiet somewhat (along with this crappy same old $300 million dollar repeat minority government), but I'm going to make the most of this time flying solo with the kiddies and having the late hours to myself alone...

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