Today was an interesting day. I am sometimes still eluded by the reason behind my triggers for tears.
I awoke exhausted again, stressed about making it to massage school on time through rush hour traffic from Berkeley to San Francisco. Though I love the rainy weather of fall in Northern California, this morning I was just sick of being tired, sick of being on the move, wishing I was more stable, with a stable routine and my boyfriend Tino to meet me at home to walk our dog in the evening and drink tea together in the morning. I am annoyed at being annoyed for having the early morning hassle of massage school. School is something that is far out of my financial capability right now, especially considering my slim chances for making money doing it when I get down to Southern California to live with my mom and be close to my family. I am taking a real leap of faith to do something I enjoy, so I might as well enjoy every step of the process. But getting up is getting harder to do.
Snoozing past the alarm, I awoke, and set off in a rush, and in the rain, to find that my usual parking spots had been taken next to school. Quickly, I found a little curb with a two-hour limit and pulled in, making it to class on time. Two hours later, in the rain, I went to move the car, and the house I had parked in front of had decided to call the towing company to take care of the six inches that blocked their driveway.
Fine, fuck. I went back to class and gave and received some great rubs, and well, money comes and goes, but life is sweet like this ain’t it? I certainly learned a lesson, and certainly there are worse things in life. With stride and a sense of humor, and help from a friend, I went to retrieve my car at lunchtime, paid a fortune, and came back for more fabulous, really fantastic massages, and ended the day with a bigger smile on my face than anyone.
Ahhh….
But when I called my dad to tell him all was well, instead of being together girl, I fell apart crying on the phone with him. For the second time.
I guess it started when a wave of unexpected emotion arose, talking to him about a tentative trip that he and my step mom Laurie might take to Tanzania in January.
I guess I have been feeling walls. I really don’t know what triggered the tears. I have been missing Tino, my fiancé, very strongly lately. I had been sure that we would be together for the birth. Sure that we would be able to work, study, and raise a baby together amongst family. But little by little, I feel that options are being weeded out and obstacles were popping up. The letter from my insurance saying my prenatals may not be covered, not possibly any of the birth bills. Tino can’t just fly out here and marry me. And I can’t just go there and bring him back. It all involves months of INS paper processing, and by that time… baby is born.
Well, there IS a positive to options being weeded out, slimmed down. I am very easily distracted by any opportunity (go ahead, that’s right. ADD.) Yet am also easily contented with a simple life. I am grateful for what I do have, family, friends… healthcare? (Everyone seen Sick-O right?)
Many go through this separation, or worse, and I am harkened back to bygone days of partners separated because of war, or to the young working teachers, who, living in a socialist government, must
