False hope makes me pack so many useless things: workout clothes, hiking shoes, dresses in case we go out, a book I’ve been trying to read for five months or so, yoga DVDs, a documentary about the New York Public Library, plans to spend time with friends, an appetite for Hoffman’s coconut chocolate chip ice cream, a desire to feel something other than dread and defeat around a place that is supposed to be home.
Your list...even in this hopeless fucking mess, you are such a melange of amazing things, my dear. I feel wonder that Kathleen, who astonishes me, rose up out of this homeless home. (Hugs)ReplyDelete
You are magnificent, IB.ReplyDelete
Yes all that and I hope you have some ice cream.ReplyDelete
Oh yes. And like Bridgett, I hope there is always time for coconut chocolate chip ice-cream.ReplyDelete
And you know what? Don't beat yourself up that the house is supposed to be home, but it doesn't feel that way. I didn't feel that way about my parents' houses pretty much from the moment I began university. Hugs.
I'm beginning to see that useless can be a relative term.ReplyDelete