I feel restless and unsettled. I have felt this way all day. It started when I went to work, where most of my yucky feelings begin. Today has sat in my stomach like a knotted ball of yarn, tan and scratchy.

A customer greeted me this afternoon with, “Hello, dear.”

I replied with “Hello. Do I get to call you, “dear,” too?”

He stumbled a bit with sounds in his mouth before saying, “Yeah. Sure.”

“Okay, great!” I said. Awkward silence followed before normal conversation resumed.

I like this customer. I don’t mind him at all. Before I even thought it out, my question shot out of my mouth.

I have no regret over my words. It surprised me that I said it. I think the surprise that I spoke up unsettled me. I’m trying to get used to this feeling. I would like to feel more comfortable speaking my mind.


Today, I remembered speaking with my former boss before I transferred, way back, a long time ago, about pursuing an MBA. I asked if the company would help pay for any of the tuition and if earning this degree would advance my career. The answers: No and No.

Eff. This.

Why do I still work for this company doing the same thing I have done for 8 years????


I have reached a dangerous point in my workplace where I daydream about up and leaving, maybe without warning, and using my time to find a new job. My practical self argues and says, “no.” My other practical self says that a freer schedule would make interviewing a lot easier to put on the calendar.

I’d like to work for a dynamic and intelligent female who won’t stifle me with male-dominated, corporate BS.

Oh, I know someone. Me! I’d like to work for me. The commute would improve! My practical self says that I have to have a “real job” while I transition into working for myself.


I realized this weekend how much I seek out qualities that my first love had. If I thought it a good idea, I would ask him if he would ever consider seeing what we could make of a relationship now. I’m pretty sure he’s in a relationship right now, so I’m not asking. Instead, I have a small crush on someone similar to him who grew up in Switzerland and makes art, speaks foreign languages, has eyes I wouldn’t tire of…and has a wife. Damn!

I’m focusing on letting go. It’s been 19 years since First Love and I broke up, and I’m letting. Go. Now.

He popped up in my dreams last week, so loving, and I will keep that feeling with me and let him go back to the past. I feel forever grateful for experiencing that loving and fulfilling relationship.

Yes, I deserve something as wonderful as what I had with First Love, and I will find it again, as soon as I make time for dating again somewhere between tomorrow and 7 years from now when my child goes to college.

Letting go.


I have more physical stuff to unload in my home, some of it Ex’s stuff, but not all. It has taken seven years to get to a point where I can talk about him dying without tearing up, look at photos, the few things left that were his/ours/mine. I’ve stood in my own way with clearing clutter. I want to fill up some boxes, load them into my car, drop them off at the thrift store, and feel that looming weight lift out of my consciousness.


I didn’t have time this morning for more than a quick yoga workout because I slept until 5:25! Yay Sleep! Not getting a more strenuous workout in compounded my restlessness today.

I feel more at ease now after writing all of this. I’m so grateful that my job allowed me to move to the city, to experience something different, to provide stability. I’m open to the future, tomorrow, the next moment. I’m breathing deep breaths, the deepest breaths I’ve breathed since yoga practice this morning. Some peacefulness has settled in.

This entry was posted in appreciation, change, gratitude and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Restless

  1. Sounds like you are making progress. Don’t you find writing so cathartic?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s