Well, it was one hell of a week! I had the most atrocious look of misery plastered on my face, there was no rallying. The gig took a huge turn for the worse when I was stripped of my office and put in a little box with two clerks, phones that never stop ringing and not an ounce of privacy. My foodie group was being somewhat unresponsive and I was feeling very bleak. Nothing could pull me out of this funk, not a wine tasting, not kind words from Gus, not a damned thing!
Well, I hit rock bottom today and miraculously bounced. Things began to turn in my favor when I spoke to my "big boss" about the unacceptable office situation and she was as outraged as I was. Then I got a surprise call from a fellow in our Brooklyn office asking if I would be willing to come conduct some cooking classes for his PTSD patients. This pleased me immensely.
I wandered down to the 14th St CSA and met the lovely woman who runs the program. I should have know that she would be great, she is after all one of my "food people"!
All this positivity was enough to prevent a complete brain aneurysm when I received a call informing me that I was going to be stuck with an outlandish car repair bill. Yes, I took that one like a man.
Feeling almost human, I went to my bodega and bought some "almost real" food. Nothing much, just some soup and a frozen Kashi pizza, but it's a start! It is baby steps with me and my oven. The thought of cooking is starting to feel a bit less nauseating. In my mailbox I found my gift subscription to bon appetit, inspiration! This made me smile.
I suddenly felt excited about the new possibilities. This weekend I am going to get my home back in order, relax in my own skin and maybe, just maybe buy some real food to start cooking again.
I smiled effortlessly for the first time in days, not a cynical smirk, but a summertime, breezy, heartfelt smile.
I know it seems crazy, my current aversion to my greatest pleasure, but the idea of cooking for one, pouring my heart into a dish with no audience in mind; it is heart wrenching. Last summer was different. Each dish was for me, but I also knew that the great successes would be repeated for D when he got back. Cooking is an art, it is meant to be shared. Cooking for yourself is more like painting your walls. I must start thinking of it as a way to live well. I typically begin to eat simple, healthy food when I am alone. No great effort or creativity put forth. It is utilitarian, not artistic expression. It pains me to think of cooking a beef burgenon in my new Le Cruseut for an empty house. Perhaps I can learn to create beauty for me though. I am at least going to try to begin sustaining myself!
I am feeling hope anew today. On one of the harder, uglier days the sun seems to have peeked through the clouds. I suppose it feels as though the hole in my chest is beginning to be filled, one grain of sand at a time. That has been my overwhelming ache this week. Emptiness and anger.
You see, I did not realize what a huge, gaping hole D. would leave in my heart. The excitement and contentment I felt coming home to him, cooking for him, laughing with him. I have tried to fill that blasted hole with cocktails, food (Poor fattie Fi!), friends, work, but it all just disappears in the void. This, of course, leaves me starving for more: more attention, more carbs, a better job to lose myself in. When it all fails, I truly feel like I have nothing. That's where the anger comes in.
I have been so angry at myself, who else is there to blame? I am angry about my paranoid delusion that my neediness is poisoning my group, my heart and everything in my life. I am angry about screwing up, because only a screw-up could have such a shitty life. I am angry that I am stuck in a stupid job that doesn't even serve as a distraction for me. I am angry that I thought things would be for the best this way. I am so damned angry for not knowing how hard this was going to be. I am furious that when it comes right down to it, I have nothing real in my life or on the horizon. That's how I felt anyways.
The rational side of my mind knows that I am starting a new part-time culinary job on Saturday, I have an EWI Bo Ssam Event on Sunday (and no one is turning against me, there is an ebb and flow in participation in the group), NYU is still a possibility, Keith is coming in March, Jo is coming in May, Gus has already planned me one birthday outing. Basically, things are good in my life, it is just my pained perspective that is discoloring it. Guess what though? The rational side is finally gaining the upper hand!
My heart is starting, every so slowly, to see the beauty, to allow for genuine smiles. I know this burst of euphoria will probably not last, but I have gotten to the point in my life where I realize that it is not the unwavering durability of happiness that makes it valuable, any appearance it makes is worth savoring. I no longer live in fear of disappointment (well, not all the time!), I relish the good moments, knowing they Will not last indefinitely.
Life is long;long enough to see us through the bad times that seem interminable, and long enough to allow us to revel in the good times that we wish would never end. Who knows what kind of day tomorrow will be, but for tonight I will cherish my easy smile and glimmers of hope.
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