Spring in Alberta is a strange time. Every spring, I wait to see what plants have come back and which have died. The time where you can see the remnants of the plant from last year, but you can’t see any green. You aren’t sure if it’s dead, so you can’t pull it out of the ground. There’s nothing to do but wait. I did that for three weeks. This last weekend is where I declared things dead and moved forward with planting new things.
My boss asked, in a meeting, if I wanted to take on a project. I am spectacularly fortunate to be asked this. Most bosses don’t care. Most people have nowhere near as much control over their work tasks as I do. It’s important to be grateful for this.
But the truth is – I don’t care. The truth is the list of things I want to do involve – well, pretty much nothing. Maybe curling up in a ball and sleeping?
The list of things I look forward to? It’s empty. The list of things I want to do? Nil. Things that get me excited? Nothing.
Getting dumped by someone I knew, someone I trusted and someone I let in? Kick in the gut. The teeth. The head. The kidneys.
Before you panic, I’m not going to end my life. That’s the whole point of this post. It’s the part where I grit my teeth and declare my intention to trudge on.
So, trudge. Get up, go to work. Pull weeds. Clean the cat litter. Eat food. Go see friends. Take the garbage out. Pet the dog. Knit things that need to be knitted. Do it all again the next day. And the next. And the one after that.
I’m almost 40. This is just waiting. Eventually, I’ll move forward. I hope.