He asked me out for tomorrow night...I knew that I'd hear from him...I ran into him grocery shopping a few weeks ago. There's a part of me that wishes he'd just stop asking. I don't even know how long it's been since we've been a couple--it's been at least 5 years.
I don't know why he keeps asking. It's not constant; it's not consistant and I think that for the first time, this isn't even pleasant for me. I actually thought about thanking him, but not going. I'd like to think that this might be fun...but everything inside of me is telling me that it won't be.
"Chopped"...that's what it's going to be. We get to show up and cook whatever is in the black basket. Now if he were a good cook, or if I were a better cook, this might be fun. I would have deferred to whatever he wanted to make and enjoy the process, as a woman of letting him cook right in front of me. But for ME to cook, get dirty cooking, but look good enough to be on a date, have my nails done, only to have them ruined by the washing, chopping, cutting and peeling feels way too much like a chore and not something I'd like to be relaxed over, just by being in his company and letting him handle the evening.
To make matters worse, I know he doesn't cook. His daughter does; his ex-wife does...but he doesn't. He eats out three meals per day...so that leaves tomorrow's dinner pretty much in my hands...maybe that's the point of his asking me. He gets a cooked meal that he doesn't have to prepare....OK to be truthful, I know he asks me because I'm pleasant company for him. And if I weren't busy studying for some state exam to come, I wouldn't be looking for the diversion and respite...maybe it'll be fun, but I'm not feeling like I'm looking forward to this at all...I've learned to say no everywhere else in my life; I think that this will be the last time I go out with him. I wish there were someone else; it would be nice to tell him thank you, but I'm no longer on the market; I'd be lying if I did.
I had a talk last night with Ellie. She's just started her fifth month and she's still saying yes to everyone. She's still cooking for a group of people and saying yest to bible study in her house. She's saying yes to visitors out of the area, she still saying yes, not sleeping, stressed and in pain. I told her that she was crazy--if she's saying yes now, what's going to be going on when the baby comes? EVERYONE is going to want to come over ALL OF THE TIME. That kind of stress isn't good for you, and it's not good for the baby. I told her that how feminine or masculine a female (or male for that matter) is, is a matter of how much estrogen or testerone is washed over the baby as a fetus. The more stress, the more testosterone; the less 'girly' her girl will be.
Then I told her a story. I had a phone call about a guy that I knew who had a stroke over the weekend. A mutual friend called me to ask me about how to get him help. The one thing that I can say is that after all of the years doing preforecloures in one form or another, I've learned lots of the workings about how to get help. There may be furniture available from Catholic Charities, food from food banks, food stamps, soup kitchens, welfare, section 8, help with heating and cooling bills, help with paying water, electric, gas and telephones. That the hospital should have a social worker to help him find ways to pay for his hospital care, doctor care and and rehabilative care that he would need going forward in physical and speech therapy. Funding is available, but it's not one phone call--it's work and he's going to need to find someone to do that work for him.
And then I told the mutual friend (Tim), that he, himself was welcome to call me to ask any questions, however, I wouldn't be helping (the stroke victim) Lou directly. Ellie told me that she couldn't believe that I wouldn't help him...so I told her a story about when I had broken my ankle, had two surgeries and the guy who was the stroke victim played, what he thought, was a funny joke on me based on my physical limitations. I didn't think it was funny--in fact I've never spoken to him again because of it.
I'll admit it. I live in a world of absolutes. Yes, no, up, down, black, white, in, out....and I forgive nothing. I may wait 20 years to get you back, but given a chance, I'll take it. Because my physical limitations were a joke to him then, his are mine now....and my answer is no. It comes down to self care, I won't let someone pull from me--and maybe that's the bottom line of my reservation about cooking with Ed about tomorrow night. My well is empty; I haven't been replenished in a long time; I don't have any reserves. Above everything else, a woman's body isn't made for stress; it's made for love--to be given TO, to recieve, to be attended to, to be pleasured on all levels...
Ellie hasn't learned that; but I have. I suggested to her that after the birth, that no one other than immediate family come to the house until the baby is at least 6-8 weeks old--and then to do a 'sip and see'. It's a Southern traditional party. Held in the afternoon, sipping cocktails, and getting to see the baby. Everyone's there at once; one party to tie up all of your entertaining obligations after the birth and everyone out...mommy needs to rest.
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