Bootstraps Missing

Well, I’m home. Actually, I got home yesterday. My sis and I met Nel and Beth at a Bob Evans’ that’s about half-way yesterday morning. We were so uncertain about what we would find that we left way, way too early. What we found, to our amazement (given the way the wind shook the house the night before) were clear, dry roads. They were clear for Nel and Beth, too. So, after sharing a meal together, we came home.

Home. I was pleased to find that Nel had kept up with dishes, did laundry (I will have to put it away–but that’s ok), and kept up on the trash. He bought a belt for the vacuum and that’s one step closer to be fixed. But the sweetest surprise is that he hung my lamp over the chair in the bedroom, truly giving me that "corner chair" space I was craving. It puts a smile on my heart!

We spent the afternoon sitting on the couch together watching football. I was disappointed in both games, as neither of my teams won. I guess I’m just going to have to quit rooting for the underdog. But it’s so a part of who I am.

I did have a much bigger disappointment yesterday. I have wanted to write about it, but it seems so selfish that I’ve hesitated. Somehow, I don’t feel like I have the right to my sense of loss. Since it occurred, I have a feeling of disorientation and sadness that has left me on the verge of tears. I keep wanting to attribute it to exhaustion from the trip home–but I don’t think that’s it.

As is my habit, I was quick to plug in my laptop up returning home. This laptop has been my constant companion since Oct. 8, 2001. That was the day I turned myself in for my crime. That day is one of the annual anniversary days that Nel and I celebrate. He had left the computer sitting on the front seat of my car for me to find when I went to work–which I never did. It was such a gift of love. Having that computer really got me through some rough times the past few years. So many of my thoughts were etched in its hard drive. So many of my feelings pounded out on its keyboard. My book was in there.

Yesterday, I was excited to pull up my thoughts from my trip and plug them into my blog/journal, but all I got was a black screen. Gone. But still sitting there. Staring back at me empty. Thoughts unretrievable. I want to cry, but I can’t. I want to be angry, but I can’t. I can’t justify tears or torment over a machine.

And I don’t know which is worse. That it’s gone, or that it will not be replaced. Having my laptop was a piece of independence–a part of my identity. But given our financial situation, there’s no way to replace her.

I woke up this morning knowing I was going to my "pay little" job to work my butt off. I’m driving over to Annie’s after work, because she’s having a "Pampered Chef" party. I’ll be happy to see Penelope, but even that joy feels overshadowed.

I can’t seem to find my bootstraps this morning, and I don’t like feeling this way.