Friday, September 18, 2009

What don't we want? Surgically implanted hormones! When don't we want them- now!

Ugh, today I had an overwhelming sense of sadness. I was looking through the photos of you and Milly at lunch and of those gorgeous ones of Milly and I missed you so terribly.

This is where I got to before the phone rang and out of all the people in the world, it was you.. calling to speak to a blubbering mess who was overwhelmed with a sense of sadness at missing her best friend. I would love to say that I feel 100% better after speaking to you but quite frankly, I still haven't seen you, have I? You're still not here and I am still not there. I am not giving you a cuddle and having a cup of tea on the lounge with you and cuddling Milly. I am not smelling your delicious cooking, stealing pieces of dark chocolate with you and watching Si patiently provide his fingers to Millys walking exploits, am I. You're not here having lunch with me and talking exitedly about our trip to the Jazz Club tonight. And so it is with this heavy heart and a barrage of eostrogen from the stupid implanon that has been surgically installed in my arm, that is once again leaving me puffy eyed and tear soaked, trying desperately to keep my sobbing to a minimum so i don't awake sleeping beauty lying next to me (a snoring Spencer).

I think the moral to the story here is, as we recognised on the phone, that if this is the worst thing in my life that I need to cry about, well.. while still fully justified, it could be worse. It still makes me sad but I am grateful as well that I will see you soon enough and that the world is still spinning nicely from where I stand (let's not get too philosophical here, sure there are things I would change- famine, disease, etc etc- this is not the time or the stage for that right now but I will endeavour to bring my philanthropist goals and successes to this table at some stage in the future).

This can also be a lesson and a reminder about the need to create and meet our goals ie. seeing each other once every 2 months; pashing Robbie Williams before we drop off this mortal coil; seeing our children playing happily together with a tennis ball and cement wall (sorry- I missed the boat on Milly- she will be the older sister watching the far littler kids do it while having a champers with her aunty SJ- oh my god, we will do that one day! aaarrrggghhh)- I think this leads to the ultimate goal, which is to enjoy EVERY day! There is plenty ahead but in the meantime, lets not waste time thinking about the time that has passed, lets spend it thinking about what we are doing! And enjoying it!

Ok, it is time to stop. Clearly this implanon has injected far more than contraceptive juices into my unassuming arm- it has also infused me with a philosophical, emotional and nonsensical potential path to literary destruction. See, even that doesn't make sense.

I am now going to go and indulge in some completely culturally void activity so that I can stop this silliness.

Love you more than the Jazz Club, and that is a LOT.


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