Today is the 4th day of the rest of my life. This is the 4th day I have been without a job. I am in the middle of changing my life. This is a good thing. My life was great before, don't get me wrong. But for 25 years, I was gliding by on the conveyor belt of life. In the grocery store that is this world, I was somewhere in the middle between the corn chips and the chicken breasts. I went to college, then to law school, then got a job at a big high powered law firm and then I went in-house where I stayed for 20 years. Success, success, success -- by other people's measures. Mine too, I suppose. Don't get me wrong, I was a willing and happy participant in this conveyor belt of mine. I loved the money, I loved the challenges, I loved many of the people I met along the way. I even loved the recognition that came with the trappings of these things. But, I always felt out of it. I always thought I was the "worst of the best" or the "best of the worst" -- depending on the day. Almost but not quite in the "in" crowd. I never really identified with the general population around me.
So, for the last year, my partner and I have been putting our financial house in order. We have been saving money, refinancing mortgages, being smart with our investments and, most importantly, planning for the next stage of our metamorphesis. We have now left the adult bug stage of development and are moving on to the next stage -- which could be the drag queen stage, we're not sure. But, the point is, it will be fun because we are fully in charge. We call the shots, we make the decisions.
When I was a little boy, my mom and dad wiped my butt until I was way too old. I cannot remember exactly what age I was when that stopped but, to be honest, while it was going on, I knew no other way of life. I would finish my business and sing out a little song -- "somebody come and wipe my butt!" Dutifully, gladly, even joyfully, one of my parents would come into the bathroom to groom their young. It was the outward expression of the inner love I knew was there. It was life and, really, I just never questioned it. However, at one age, and again I cannot remember when but I was certainly big enough to see out the window so I must have been quite a boy, I saw my parents in the backyard talking to the neighbors. It was summer and warm and the window was open which was convenient. So, I just belted out my song like always, confident with the knowledge that life would continue like this until -- until -- well, I thought it would continue forever. Anyway, this time, my father came in to tend to me. He spoke: "This is the last time I or anyone else will do this." And then he did it. And, oh yes, it was the last time. At first, I was disgusted, horrified, angry. How could I be expected to touch "down there" after having done . . . "that!" It was not for me to do. Plus, did this mean that my parents no longer loved me? Had I done something wrong? Well, the answer came slowly but strongly. I could touch "down there" after having done "that" and they still loved me. AND, I soon realized, it was okay. I focused a lot when I was doing that and then, once it was over, I pretended like it had never happened (so much of life is like this -- sex comes to mind). You know something -- the end of my butt wiping stage was really the moment that I changed from a child to an adult. I was in charge. If I wanted to use 6 sheets of toilet paper, I would. If I wanted to use 1 and call it a day (probably because there was something good on the television), I could do that too. Hell, I could even not do it at all although, to be frank, that never crossed my mind. The point is that I was in charge, I was calling the shots. I knew at that moment in my development that I wanted my own car, I wanted to live on my own, I wanted to have my own money, pay my own bills and, yes, Virginia, I also wanted to be gay. That's a lot of shit (literally) to pile onto a little child and his development but it is true. And I think I am the better person for having to wipe my own butt. Thanks, Dad.
So, I am taking some time now to get my shit together (notice the theme) and think through what it is I want to do. Here, on the 4th day of the rest of my life, I have made a spinach pie, changed some light bulbs, talked to my sister and found how to create a blog. Pretty good for a kid who didn't even "you know what" until he was at least 5 feet tall.
Let's talk food. I know, given the above story, that this entry is not particularly chronologic. But, hey, deal with it. Anyway, food. I love food -- all kinds of food except for Ethiopian. My favorite is Greek because I am Greek but that is not to the exclusion of other sorts of food. Vietnamese is good -- Italian too. Really any sorts of food except Ethiopian. I am going to let you in on a little secret -- food is not food. Well, food is of course food but it is so much else too. Food is nourishment, food is tasty, food is love, food is sex, impressive, desire and so much more. People are jealous of other people's food -- they compare themselves to others based upon how good or bad their food is, how big their food is. For me, food is like a clock, the passage of time. I live my life based upon what I will eat next. Often, when I am lying in bed, I will say to my partner, what do you want to eat tomorrow. That is not a joke -- I am really thinking of what to eat next. There is no double entendre there. In the morning, I think of lunch. At midday, I think of dinner. And on and on. I suppose it is why I cannot lose weight and why I refuse to wear a swimming suit anymore. Whatever.
Okay -- so today is Thursday and I am on the 4th day of the rest of my life. I know that I will NOT want to do nothing for the rest of my life. One can clean, eat, pleasure oneself and talk to one's sister only so often. I will need some sort of job at some point. But, the rub is, what sort of job and, really, will I be loved there? Let's see what happens.
It is probably time to eat so I better post this now. I am not sure of what people will think of me and what I have written above (and will write in the future). But, you know what? That's really not my problem. I poop and need to wipe myself. Get over it.
No comments:
Post a Comment