In search of ‘the giddy’
My dreams are just crazy these days. Last night the “love of my life” (LOL feels like an appropriate acronym here) circa 2000 made an appearance.
Which brings me to today’s lament … I miss love.
Rather, the “falling in” bit.
I miss “the giddy.” The wanting to wear makeup … the putting together of cute outfits just in case you’d run into him today … the “oh hey I didn’t know you’d be here” even though your ass stalked him to figure out where you could “accidentally” run into him. 😉
My friends are a brilliant cross-section of all stages of a relationship, but the point is that there IS one somewhere. They range from engaged to married to expecting to breast-feeding to trying for the next kid to divorcing to finding their way after all was said and done. But the common thread is having something to look forward to.
What bugs me most about re-adopting my old D.C. jobs is that I went straight back into the “who the hell has time for a man?” mentality. I think my dream reminded me of the exhilaration I’ve spent too much time without.
These days, I mostly only find “the giddy” when I see the “Leaving Miami-Dade County” sign … when I know I’m in Monroe County and Key Largo is just ahead.
Not that there’s any hope of meeting men in Florida — I want to kick myself for not meeting someone in D.C., although I am grateful to not be tied to that place.
I actually miss the D.C. douchebags. They at least had ambition on their side. Here, the boys are happy to live on a houseboat and not amount to a hill of beans. I need one who’s willing to power that boat straight up to Manhattan and take me to a damn Broadway show or something.
I don’t think that kind of captain exists — at least, not in my world. But then again, I live in a snowglobe outside of which I rarely set foot.
As if I needed any more reason to shake up my little snowglobe world, seeing my then-LOL in my dream last night and remembering what it was like (*aaah*) makes me want to take a hammer to the glass and let the glitter spill where it may.
Hmm. Where did I hide my toolbox again? (And not the battery-operated treasure trove…)