An Explanation on Where I AM, Now

Preface: After a "text/talk" from the aforementioned Mr Boots, who has survived this exact same arctic tundra,I gave him a slight insight into my miseries. He asked me if I could write it out...The change from liberal, dynamic, lawyer-in-training to apathetic housewife stuck in isolation. I don't even know how I responded....but as the previous blog entry relays, it got to me...Boots always did...Thus,

The Frozen Marital Front: 

It was been made clear to me, yesterday evening, that I had been sleeping in the same bed with my husband for the past two years. I hate this bed. In fact I hate almost 70% of the furniture in this household.....ALL the bedroom furniture is a cast off the EX-wife...and while that Ju-ju is bad enough, it is not at all stylish or functional.

Buy new furniture, right? Wrong. When stuck in an arctic Tundra one is quickly limited in furniture options- let alone, seasonal produce- without being prepared to hand over a small fortune. So the Furniture stays. Luxury Items, like paying the Electric bill at 20 degrees in October, somehow take precedence.

Plus there are dire needs: such as feeding my husbands "sled dog" that he so desperately wanted, his $50 a bag high protein diet. Mind you, I rarely eat out now, but the dog is happy.

I am not...So, I thought tonight, at 3:30 am as I awoke to find myself alone in the bed I hate, with the dog whimpering to be let out. How did this happen?  After pulling off the down jacket, and removing the clip from my .40 caliber required to take the dog out...I thought I might "put into words" what happened...or at least strike a guess.
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Like many couples of today, my husband and I moved in together gradually. My husband--then boyfriend--began sleeping over at my place, I began sleeping over at his. Drawers eventually were being given over and exchanged to a point. Until we were engaged?  No, no....that would be a lie...Until we were taken down "as witnesses" to his stupid housemates Weekend Antics....Yes. That was the trigger. Nothing like, 4 hours of interrogation to decide, I don't want to live THERE anymore.

So the Fiance moved in...and most of "his stuff" moved into storage...except the bed....the bed and TV were the "good pieces" of household furnishings that came into my small 1 bedroom life...both my bed and TV were too small for a man of 6'6". Fast forward....

Eventually we moved into a 2200 sq ft home, 3 bedrooms, a formal office, living room, dining room, and separate game room/man cave.  It was awesome. We were married, and lived there for four months. And inevitably we were then deployed to where we are now...The TUNDRA.

NOW...In 3 months, we will have been stationed at our new "home" for a full year.... Of course my husband will be gone overseas for this momentous occasion...But nothing I haven't become accustomed to...Yes, while the husband is gone, "working" I will be left home alone...again. Very much like the past 9 months have been.

While he's "physically here"...4 waking hours of the day, and maybe 6 sleeping hours....I can usually count on my husband being GONE or LEAVING from 5:30 AM to 5:30 PM...with HOURS lost in the "10 minute drive to work", "stopping in at work," "getting calls from work" and my favorite, "relaxing" because he "just got home from work." Riiiiiight. Somedays, I look forward to his physical absence...I've said it before, there is nothing lonelier, than being in bed with someone, and realizing you're all alone...

Now, I wish I could say I'm not a complainer. I have a wonderful husband. He is a great provider. He ask very, very little of me, and deep down, despite my complaints, and irritations, he does all he can to make me happy, and show me he loves me on a daily basis...Except....He's just "not here," and he just doesn't realize how much I hate the life of the woman I have become....

The Woman I've Become
Women everywhere not only rejoice at such a situation, but once upon a time, I used to relish my status: HOUSEWIFE.  Job duty Requiring: Only that dinner is made, lunches prepared, coffee ready; and laundry and home kept in a "guest could drop by unexpectedly, any minute" fashion. Plus, love your husband unconditionally.
--It wasn't that hard once upon a time. I like to pretend once upon a time I did ALL of that, but its so vague a memory.

How does it become harder? When does it become so hard, that you hate your dependent status with such passion, that you're prepared to pawn jewelry, just to get back to a place of civilization?

Well, for me, it got harder when stores were no longer accessible by walking a block this way or that....or when the metro was cut out of the equation entirely...When we moved to a location that required me to wear a side-arm when "borrowing" the one vehicle in our one vehicle household....it became annoying....

Now, it has become seemingly impossible as I am shouldered with the responsibilities of a dog that I did NOT count on, but did agree to keeping, because my husband had one while growing up....Yes, well, as much as I love the furball, he was the straw, the catalyst....I have all but given up.

Never once did I believe a dog could make me wish to not have children. Or that I'd treasure the workforce. Or even contemplate giving up pets for adoption, as clearly both my pets hate each other like Cats and Dogs...But such is my life.

I never thought I'd miss the Convenience of escaping my own home. Miss the convienance of a walk to the book store, a lecture, grabbing dinner at the grocery store, the local bar...anywhere but the 4 bedroom hell I feel trapped into.  I never thought I'd miss a PERSONAL income that I could indulge in...one where I could buy a five dollar coffee, have a manicure pedicure because I felt like it, or just buy clothes, because they were cute.....those days are long gone.


No...Now I am in the EX-wife's bed, with the dog sleeping under it, who has scarred my cat away. My husband fell asleep in the living room, intentionally or not, I'm unclear. I am wide awake, at 4:30 knowing exactly where I am now, and contemplating, "So what am I going to do about it???"

A shadow of my former self....

Some might say my past haunts me. If they did, I'd agree. Here's why:

All too many times I begin to start a blog, or at least mentally come to the conclusion that "I should write in my blog," only to end up scratching the journey before it has ever begun. The reason is simple: I have nothing at all I WANT to write. The reasons are simple.

1) I live in the middle of isolation.  I am uninformed about political matters, legal matters as applicable to my chosen profession, the general state of affairs of anything past the latest viral YouTube video...and it sickens me.

As it stands, the news I get is from Facebook; and, honestly, I haven't applied myself towards improving the situation. I have become "content." Blissfully ignorant in my small "tundra" that is too comfortable to be called "Frontier living" anymore.  I play with my dog, and read novel upon novel, to fill my time. This of course is when I am not being occupied by my ever burdening Netflix and Facebook schedule.

So that, dear friends and followers is why I have remained painfully silent...Until now....

2) Awwww yes, it's not that I can't write of former lovers...(But, really, isn't that a yawn by now?) .....BUT...WAIT...oddly, they are EXACTLY what keeps me writing.  Re-reading emails of summers and romance past, I am struck by why each love to this day lingers. The good ones supported me. The great ones pushed me...annoyed me...and motivated me.

And damn Them All to Heaven, a few text messages later, and I am annoyed beyond all belief that I have spent practically two months of doing nothing....expressly outlined in aforementioned bullet 1.

Maybe my misanthropic ways will return as the snow settles in, but I will try my damnedest to shake off the hold that Anonymity has put upon my brain.

With hopes of writing anything of interest, xoxo.