I hate being alone.

There I said it.

I can’t believe I actually went to Mark’s house on my “off-week”, and did 3 loads of laundry, cleaned the boys rooms…and organized his pantry. Let me explain, before you freak.

It made me feel better.

I have no shame.

I was lonely. And sad, and truth be told, I missed my day job. I missed being a Mom, dammit. I missed doing my thing! Shit. So I got up, and I left my perfectly-perfect house, and went over to Mark’s shit hole. Sorry, my sweet ex… but it’s a shit hole. Granted, he’s new at this “mom thing”, it is still flat out gross. He needs me. So, I cleaned it. UGH! I know, it was wrong. On so many levels. My shrink told me I was bad. I got a big ‘ole slap on the hand for that one, but come on! I had to do it. I felt better, for a few hours…doing what I do best. Being a Mom, and a wife. Even if I’m not a wife anymore, which I am NOT….I felt needed. And I organized the boys closets. And I did the laundry. And I cleaned out the drawers. And boy, oh boy did I feel good. Like a quick hit of off a Parliament, I felt good. A rush of happy. Ahhhh…but it never lasts.

My work was done, and I left.

But not before I sat in the middle of the bonus room…staring at the wall of my kids baby pictures, sobbing. Ya. I hit rock bottom. Cried for twenty minutes. Stole a few boxes of Kleenex from Mark, and left. So, not only am I a loser, I’m also a klepto. Good times.

So, I went home…and got back into bed. And realized I was alone again. With not a thing left to do. No laundry, no dishes…nothing messy to pick up. My OCD-pantry is insane. (Pix to follow.) Nothing to do but wait, until it was time to pick up the boys from school. Dang. So I looked at my house. My new house, and wow it’s cute. I’m super proud of it. And it’s clean, and perfectly-perfect. But it’s missing a couple things.

Jonah and Zac.

I realized that the nesting thing was selfless. And it was hard, sure. And it worked while it worked. Mark and I did it for as long as we could. But I miss it. I would do it again in a heartbeat. It was the best thing for the boys, and the greatest way to transition them. And after 7 months, it was time to get separate places. But I also just realized what the REAL problem is. Cause look, when I was in the apartment alone…I didn’t miss anything. But the boy’s stuff was never at the apartment, they were never there. But now, in my house…THEY are missing. Make sense? I am here, and they are not. Their rooms are empty. I see their clothes, and shoes, and favorite cereal…and they are gone. Fuck. This is the worst. This house is too quiet, and I want them back. I want noise, and talking. And fighting. And tumult. And the busy. I liked the “busy” that came with it all.

I want my family back.

I used to leave them, with their Dad…and dogs. And now, they leave me. Yeesh.

Me, Zac and Jonah. My family. In my house, with my OCD-pantry…and my perfectly-perfect closets. lol. And I want to have a job from 8-2 that gets my ass out of bed. I had a life before I got separated. Do you know how hard it is to get out of bed when I’m not driving the kids to school? When there is no reason to get up in the morning? Literally. I mean, when they’re not here. Why get up? What is the point? I need a life. A job. A career. Every other week, I NEED A REASON TO GET UP! I used to be stronger. And motivated, and I need to get that girl back. Find Jen again.

It’s me time, baby. 

Ok. There. I wrote it down. Now, I have to be accountable to all y’all. It’s kinda like Weight Watchers. Ya know, “You bite it, you write it”! Now, I’ve put it out there, and I will do it. Maybe I’ll open my studio again. Maybe I’ll work at Starbucks and get my fucking coffee for free. Maybe…I’ll get a job at Nordstroms. OMG. That is like the best idea ever! Or maybe I’ll go back to school. Who knows. Wait, maybe I should go clean other people’s houses. I am so good at that. Just ask Mark. I swear, he was so happy last week.

And I did apologize for invading his pig sty, so you know. I texted him right after, and apologized up and down for making it all clean and pretty. I said, it was for me…and not for him. I said, “thank you SO much for letting me have the opportunity to make the disgusting place you call home, livable”. hahaha. I am so funny. Ya know what he said? That he would appreciate it if I would not “rearrange things so he can’t find them”. LOL!! Really? How about a thank you?

Jeez, that’s the last time I ever clean his house…for free. ;)

xo j