August 25, 2018

Leslie Journal: THIS IS FINE.


















This is fine. I am fine. Everything is.....fine.  

I'm standing in the middle of Dave and Busters. LJ is dancing because he's defeated me for the 8th time at Long Shot (the basketball game).  Twice in his exuberance, he's thrown the ball so hard that it has bounced out of the cage and nearly pegged other distracted adults. I haven't taken a day off since MAY, but this is what days off are for. 

I wonder how long D&B has been there? Shit, when was the last time I was in the mall? A Mall?  I'm hungry. I'm thirsty. My arms are sore for 45 minutes of rampant speeding games.

And then I look at my phone...

I'm scaring you {constant reader or future Leslie}.  Everyone in my timeline is actually fine. Fine = alive.    

I'm not going to hurt myself. I do want to cancel the remainder of August and sleep until October, but maybe not dealing with things is the lesson that this revolution around the planet couldn't teach, and this new rotation will.  

"Auntie?....Auntie. AUNTIE!!!", LJ says.  
I realize he's been talking to me for a minute or so.  

"Are you having a stroke, are you okay??" 

"No, I got an email that's a bit mean -- and I don't understand.  You pick another game and let's do THAT until I can fix my face."

Meanwhile in the phantom zone of my brain, my thoughts are spinning the solutions like a slot machine -- but no matches.  Cherry, Cherry, Turd. Turd, Turd, Banana.  Turd, turd, turd. JACKPOT = YOU ARE AN IDIOT. 

How do parents do this? How do you keep smiling when everything is on FIRE? 

"Earth to Auntie...........come in?   I don't know how you beat me at Mario Kart. But you WON."

I literally forgot I was racing in a video game. 

"That message you got must have been bad.  Want me to read it?"

I do, but at the same time I'd rather set my phone (myself) on fire.  Where can I get some napalm?  I instead take him to the food court and consult with his Mom via telephone while he's ordering food. 

Tiesha says exactly the right thing, but I start to cry and that can't happen in the middle of the mall with LJ standing in line for a Cinnabon, so I wrap that call up and promise to get my shit together. 

I don't think he can handle me crying, anymore than I could handle the adults in my life crying at the same age.   

Yell at me, send me to my room - ground me -- but please Mom don't cry.    Don't disappear into the blank stare zone. We will figure this out. I'll wash dishes? Look I mowed the grass?  Larry and I will get along!   Just don't ever...cry.

LJ convinces me to take him to Chilli's for a "to-go' meal and then we actually sit down and eat. I'm relieved I do sit down and then I realize I haven't eaten ALL DAY.  

The internet would have you believe that diet and exercise is the way to weight loss, but that is not true. It's concentrated laser-focused stress.   I guarantee you if someone from your inner circle that you care about in some way or another lobs some low surprise jab at you or knife from behind you will lose all interest in food. 

Well... WHAT HAPPENED you say?

Let's just say I was excised like a tumor from a long term project I cared about a great deal, because I asked for additional time. I won't bore you with my fall itinerary, but it was desperately needed ask.


It's the following day, and this entry is calming me as I type.  LJ is here now (out cold ..it's 6:54 am)  but before I fell asleep -- he jumped on my bed at midnight and told me that he loved me and yelled Happy Birthday! At the same time - his mom, my very best friend called and said the same thing. 

Two other texts at midnight from travelling friends -- and then Lunesta Mom (very different than waking mom)  : gt the pics lv u..I'm sleepy...sleeping... 89nmquio  *heart* heart..YOUR MOM. 

It's my Birthday. (Did you hear that in Jeff Goldblum's Grandmaster voice?) 

I hope you constant friends stay along for the ride. I'm making some changes this year and I'll understand if you quietly want to get off this friendship train. Just exit out the party while I'm distracted with the chips and salsa. No need to launch friend nuclear missiles.

I'm not sure I know what to do yet, but I'll share the solution when I do. 

Worrying means you suffer twice.