a Post about Hope

Hope is something that I have struggled with in my life. Struggled to have it. Struggled to be rid of it. Hope and I have epic fights. Is it like this for everyone? I don't know. Call me crazy, but I thought hope was simply there, something you had or didn't have. Not that it was something that you could miss with your entire being, or wish would go away.

There was a time, not so very long ago, when I was completely, madly and stupidly in love with a man. I was not married to this man. In fact he was in a position of authority over me. Because I believed him to be an upstanding kind of guy - Because I gave him every opportunity to make the things he did, the things I did, the things we did together mean absolute zero - Because he let me believe these things meant something to him too - Because I wanted so much to believe - I believed his lies (what he would probably call 'possibilities that did not come to fruition', but he did not try to make them happen, only said we would do x or y and then did nothing to make the things happen) and ended up emotionally slammed against a brick wall. Repeatedly.

Despite the emotional beatings, despite KNOWING beyond a doubt that he was never going to be the man he set out to make me believe he was, I could not shake hope. Hope sat on my shoulders and would not leave. I tossed it in the creek along with a gift he gave me. I burned it in things I had that would burn. I lit black candles and wished it away. It did not leave.

Hope would periodically slither down around my chest and squeeze so hard I could not breathe. I had to see this man everyday (yeah someone I worked with) and would sob all the way home thanks to his stupidity and cruelty (going to the printer to get some document to find the Match.com e-mails he had printed off; finding a porn DVD in the laptop he had used last, etc.) I was done with him, done with the job, long before I was able to leave that office, long before hope released me from its grip.

When the day came that I could look to the sky and not see him, I felt blessed beyond belief.

Now? Now there are days I would not be able to find hope with both hands if it were plastered to my ass.

Now I need hope sitting on my shoulders. Now hope feels more like a thin and flighty scarf than the weighty boa constrictor it felt like before. I keep finding that it is so close to weightless, so transparent that it keeps slipping off. I keep having to search for it, somewhere behind me, and try again to get it to rest upon my shoulders.

I feel that instead of hoping, I am merely trying to have hope.

I have found that the days when I woke thinking "this could be the day!" are gone. The best I can muster is "this is one day closer to the end of this crap time". Is this hope? Or simple logic? Does it matter? It is as close to hope as I can get right now.

I need this to get better soon.

Interesting Days . . .

Interesting is a catch-all phrase isn't it? It could mean good, bad or neutral. Just something that sparks a thought, some degree of connection perhaps, to a degree, not necessarily a high degree.

My conflict of interest was worked around. I got the permission of the old client to work on the case. It's all good. I lost out on a week's worth of pay, but at least I am still there, potentially for a long, long time.

I had 2 hearings on the 10th. That is, one is still pending on the 10th. Regarding the other one, I withdrew from the case. I realized that I do not have the resources to effectively address litigation cases when the plaintiff does not have substantial $$ to pay up front. This guy did not. I could see me conducting depositions, owing a court reporter, and never getting paid by the guy. So, I asked him to find another attorney, and withdrew. He has a good case. Just no money to back it up.

I was then contacted by a temp service I signed up with, for an interview with a large firm in town. These jobs tend to last for as long as a person needs them to (though that has not been true in the last couple of years.) BUT OF COURSE, the interviews are being conducted on the 10th, at the same time the hearing is taking place. I have asked if there might be another time, but so far have not heard back. For now, I have the temp government job, and I am happy there, hoping it lasts for as long as I need it.

June 10th seems like it is a pivotal day. A friend's daughter is having surgery on the 11th and my friend is flying to her on the 10th. Another friend is on vacation, returning home on the 9th
. . . and dealing with reality (and whatever the days off have brought) on the 10th.

I have, in these past weeks, repaired my lawn mower, repaired my car (with help!), repaired the week wacker. I am uncertain why the Universe has decided I need to do more learning, this time in the home care area, but there ya go. I am learning.

My son tells me I am 'stalking' a house. Not my house, but a house 'up the street'. There is a small development area with houses in various states of compeletion. The economy tanked and the houses have sat for a year or so, empty, with little or no work being done. One was a shell for a long time, but it now at least has its outer skin. The house I love is off in a cul-de-sac. It is the only one there at the moment, though there is room for 2 or 3 more homes. The house looks complete from what I can see peeking in the windows. The yard is a muddy mess, but if someone buys it, that can be taken care of quickly. I dream of suddenly coming into money and purchasing that house. It looks as if there is a decent sized room at the front that could be a library/office.

I should say that I day-dream of buying the house. In my 'real dreams' I am looking at a run-down apartment with uneven floors, currently occupied by an old man and his cats. The apartment smells of cabbage.

I prefer my day-dreams.