Milestones and millennia


Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

I saw this tiny orange wonder on Friday morning. I wondered if it were my grandmother, whose birthday would have been Saturday.

I know the dearly departed don’t have the same concept of time as we mortals. So when my mother insists on buying birthday cake to celebrate what would have been my grandmother’s 83rd birthday, it doesn’t necessarily mean my grandmother is celebrating at the same time.

Milestones and millennia are the measures of time on our respectively different planes.

Which is why my UEOEH thinks she’s welcome in my house for ALL TIME and the past few years have felt like a MILLENNIUM and THEN SOME for me.

This past weekend, I started doing what I always do when I’m unhappy at home. I started buying stuff “for my next place.” My hope is that THIS is my next place. I don’t want to move. I LOVE living on the water. I ADORE having all this space. I just want to get rid of my mother and my (albeit beloved) cat Kadie so that they have each other, wherever they end up.

I bought a cute little (overpriced) “dresser” for hairthings. And I found the duvet set that I bought two years ago for $150 on sale for, yep, $14.99. Dollar-cost-averaging, yo.

I bought another comforter that I liked, too. I have two bedrooms, after all, when the UEOEH goes away. All I need is another bed!

I also found a CUTE rug that matches my old/new comforter set. Two, actually — a small one and a 4′ x 5′. Since I have no carpets — and I will have gotten rid of Kadie who likes to wipe her pissy ass on everything, it is sitting on a shelf in my closet.

In other news, I applied for (and got) a car loan. I just haven’t returned any of their calls. I know what car I want … and I know what my interest rate is. Sigh. And I’m not in the mood to pay *mumblemumble* a month when all I need to do is drop the damn car off at a dealer and spend a small (albeit one-time) fortune to fix mine up pretty.

Oh wait — there ARE no Pontiac dealers left! *headdesk*

In better news, my car is legal in Florida. I swear to God, I have to get a ticket in every damn state because I let the registration slide. Now to go pay the f’ing ticket. Whee!

In any case, the butterfly hung around me for a long time while George sniffed around. He was being good and not tugging on his leash. He let me watch the butterfly dance and dance and dance.

Was it my grandmother? Was it a sign that everything is OK, or that it will be? That I’m loved by the universe, even if it feels like I must have bullied it in a past life?

I just wish my mom would leave, so I can miss her. I wish my job didn’t have to be so much work sometimes. I wish I had more friends in the area. I wish for lots and lots of stupid, materialistic stuff, too. But perhaps my great hope right now is that, like this beautiful butterfly, I can spread my little wings and soar above it all.

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