Steemey

I know no one gives a crap but me, but here you go.

I am obsessed with clean floors.

I could care less if I have rotting meat in the fridge, but I absolutely love clean floors. I have in my short time on this earth, owned 4 vacuum cleaners, one steam cleaner, and one vac and mop, and one dust buster. I have used every solvent known to modern man to remove a panopoly of stains.

I moved into my apartment in Brooklyn, and was immediately faced with the fact that roughly 6 dogs had inhabited this space before myself and my two dogs. As such, they did everything they could to rub out the scent of the previous dogs. (Dog owners know what this means).

After a time of trying to keep the place clean, I eventually became depressed and gave up. However, I have company coming this weekend, and on a whim, I called Stanley Steemer.

Not only did they show up at the beginning of their interval (11:00 instead of 2:00), this place has been restored to its natural beauty.

The carpet is still shitty, and there's still only primer on the walls, but the shitty carpet is at least clean and odor-free. Plus, because it was steam cleaned, I can feel my pores opening up with each pass of the vacuum. It's the little victories.

My next place will have all hardwoods. Don't be surprised when I invest in a sander.

Rubberneckers

He left me.

After 5 years, he left me. In retrospect, because I am grieving now, I realize how much of it I spent in the plea position. It is a game where someone loves the other person more than he or she is loved back, and they plead for the person lagging behind to catch up. The bottom line is, I was his albatross. As much as I loved him, and made things feel good, it was never enough. He would relax, and all would be well, and then he would yank the cord, and I would bounce up and down trying to get him comfortable again.

I really don't want to rehash all the gore over the past few weeks, suffice it to say, that I know for sure it's over. The thing that makes me saddest is that I really loved what we were as a couple, which was why I was so anxious to celebrate it. To have just chemistry and lose it is one thing. To have history, foundation--well those are things that take work, and those are the things I miss. I am sad, but I don't want to share these feelings with everyone I know. I called the people close to me, to let them know I had been hit by a mack truck. Everyone else will just have to hear about it on the news. My mom was so worried about me, that she flew in the next day. I spent the last 4 days with my mom, which is, incidentally, the first time she has visited me in New York. She offered me pleasant diversions, and I was happy to have her here...someone to have fun with.

Look, I'm not celebrating, and I am not thanking God to be rid of him, although I know I will never be with him again. He left me this whole year hanging on, in a year when I really needed him. I can't forgive that, and I will not tolerate being someone's 3rd priority. I played fair. In the end, I was not enough for him.

I want my friends to know where I'm at, but I also don't want to recount the events each time with someone else. To them, it's a car wreck they can't but slow down for. To me, it is MY car wreck. I am not going to men bash with my friends. Mostly I just feel foolish anyway. I went so out of my way so that the whole damn world would know what a fantastic man I had, and it turns out, I bet on the wrong horse. I have removed all reminders of him in my house, and am taking precautions to keep him extricated from my mental periphery. His things are going to be sent back tomorrow or today.

The worst part is that after 5 years of being someone's goddamn girlfriend, I am looking for the recognition of a job well done, and am ready to graduate to wife. I am not looking forward to finding that solace with someone else, although I see no reason in hell not to pursue my dream of being married with children. I am ready....for whom, I have no idea.

If you're my friend, and you chanced upon this entry, it's cool. I don't mind that you know; I assumed you would. But know that you are among the few chosen.