What happened with the kitchen?
I don’t know how to explain what has happened with the kitchen… The closest I can manage is that once Elvis got sick, I started having anxiety. And it just leaked out onto everything… and if the everything was not important (or fancy) I stopped caring about it.
I’m sure you understand that! But it becomes less explainable when you consider that Elvis has been gone for a while now, and I have not gotten my care back.
I do not mean that I have some deep apathy towards life; it’s more like, life is GOOD just.as.it.is.
I am happy exactly where I am: the pajama-pants-version-of-existence.
The idea of firebombing my own inner peace— over something I do not care about, (especially a project of the kitchen’s mess and magnitude) makes me want to lie down in the street and hope that someone runs me over.
I just want to hang out with Paul, and the munchkins of destruction; grow flowers, read, go dancing, wear fun costumes, and occasionally get something giant on Craigslist.
I’m done with anything else life needs from me.
Paul has done a wonderful job of being patient… telling me stories about Elvis, tolerating my endless distractions, flights of fancy, and three-in-the-morning-whims-of-iron.
Occasionally absenting himself, so that RagePaul can visit.
(RagePaul is AngryStainGuy’s angrier brother)
RagePaul feels that life is intolerable because we have not moved forward with the kitchen… and RagePaul’s perspective has clouded mine.
Is this intolerable?
Or?
Is this irrelevant?
When RagePaul is 93, will he still be mad about the kitchen?
(That’s a rhetorical question. He will definitely still be mad.)
But when I am 93? ALLOW ME TO ASSURE YOU: the very last thing that I will spend ANY time thinking about will be this kitchen.
Plus, there is another problem that is happening: when Paul tries to talk to me about the kitchen, my brain slams shut.
I feel like I am being suffocated.
Seeing as how my preferred form of communication is hyperbolic overstatement, you may not realize that I am describing my actual experience without embellishment:
MY BRAIN SHUTS DOWN.
I freeze.
I cannot even hear the words that Paul is saying.
Instead, I hear that clanking-movie-noise when the gate is closing, the spillway is overflowing, the building is on fire, and the door on the alien spaceship is sliding shut.
But instead of sprinting to the exit accompanied by exciting music and explosions, I’m like— WHATEVER. The aliens are totally fine. I’m just going to stay here.
This is deeply unfair to Paul.
And yet, sometimes life is unfair.
If this is the first he is learning about this, I cannot help him.
Compounding my alien-brain-paralysis, is that I am married to someone who is SO DIFFERENT from me, that he cannot relate AT ALL.
In a lot of ways, I think it’s mostly good to marry your opposite… (AS LONG AS YOU ARE THE CRAZY ONE)… But it has turned out that Paul is not simply my opposite; but rather a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT SPECIES; and at this point, I have no idea which of us is entitled to be the way we are.
I mean, it seems reasonable that we are BOTH entitled to our species’ traits; but Paul seems to disagree… and because none of this is legitimate to him, it feels not legitimate to ME… like my own Self should not exist in this way because it is wrong.
And yet!
Like it or not!
HERE I AM!
EXISTING IN THIS SUPER ANNOYING WAY!
Unfortunately for Paul, (the title of my memoirs!) other people’s expectations have never been a determining factor in my personality, and the chances of me reversing course NOW seem REALLY SLIM.
After all, an aardvark does not become a zebra!
It’s a fact.
LEARN ABOUT SCIENCE, PAUL!
At this point, I am unsure if who I am at the core of my being is an acceptable lifeform… or if who I am is an intolerable mess that should be left on the side of the road with a sign that reads: caveat emptor.
Probably the latter… in which case, I won’t begrudge Paul swapping me out for a zebra and enjoying the rest of his days, grazing the plains in peace; enjoying the serenity of an appropriate species-match… luxuriating in the clarity of black and white and never thinking at all of the muddled grey aardvark he booted from the vehicle.
BUT there is a caveat: if he is planning to abandon me freeway-side, he’d best get on it; because I am fast approaching what (I suspect) is a hard and unforgiving wall of sell-by-date, (an event that may have already passed, but I’m fine living here in denial.)
Either way, once I reach it, THERE WILL BE NO REFUNDS and Paul will be stuck with me forever.
I have informed him of this, and offered to make him a countdown clock so he knows how much decision-making time he has left.
It’s a trick though because HONEY, I’M NOT LEAVING.
The offer is just to lull him into thinking he has choices… the illusion of choice is surprisingly satisfying!
Sort of how I think that if Paul leaves me, there will be a silver lining: revisiting the guy not taken… the one who was so interested in sifting through the depths of my life-ineptitude with curiosity and empathy!
WHAT would THAT be like?
To be accepted EXACTLY AS I AM.
I cannot even imagine such a miraculous thing!
And it’s irritating that I cannot even enjoy my nice imaginary-alternate-universe without realizing that sans-Paul, my soul disintegrates into a million useless pieces (and probably goes to jail.)
Thinking about all of the paths not taken does not make me sad or nostalgic… instead it forces me to realize exactly HOW INSANELY LUCKY I AM and that I should definilty TRY NOT TO RUIN the only smart life-choice I ever made: a man who facilitates the growing of kale.
A man who fixed Elvis with duct tape.
A man who tells me that EVEN IN DEATH, I will be overly particular… and that when I get to the River Styx, I will be all— I do not like this boat… do you have another one?
So now I am basically STUCK HERE, because what with his moving of heavyoldthings and fixing of brokenoldthings and also buildingofkittenhammocks, and channelingElvis’smesagesfromthegreatbeyond… Paul has ruined me for ALL OTHER OPTIONS and rather than pinballing through the world, I am forced to STAY HERE AND THINK ABOUT MY FLAWS.
Thanks a lot, Paul.
August 31, 2017 @ 8:40 am
It sounds like you are still grieving the loss of your beloved Elvis. It takes time to get through it. Be patient with yourself and do the things that bring you joy right now. When you are ready you will find inspiration to continue your kitchen. Death reminds us all of what is really important and that is the people, family, friends and pets we share our lives with. Give yourself time and grace. Hugs!
March 13, 2018 @ 10:04 pm
The loss of a pet that held your heart…as well as the death of a dear one, pretty much trumps everything else we don’t absolutely Have to do. Time helps. No real fix but it helps.
Recently found your writings. You are certifiable and I’m liking the way you think.
Carry on.
August 31, 2017 @ 9:37 am
Girlll, shush your griping… you have it all… you and your other half have survived a major remodel, the loss of a beloved pet and who knows what all else. Now as to your appliances… either white or cobalt blue. they look very pricey. dont know why you are sweating so, you are the one who put a piano in the kitchen. Keep us informed with the latests updates. Good luck and God bless.
August 31, 2017 @ 11:04 am
Someone who only eat kale doesn’t need a kitchen anyway 🙂
Paola44 from France
August 31, 2017 @ 2:24 pm
About two weeks ago, I discovered your blog. In that time, I have read the entire thing. The ENTIRE thing. I think you are a very brilliant and unique lady who has been richly blessed in her choice of spouse. I’m sure Paul understands your grief over Elvis. I have an 8 year old cat who is just as wonderful to me and I will be a basket case forever when she leaves. Just give yourself time.
I know a lot of other folks have commented, but if you’re really struggling this badly, seeing a therapist might be beneficial. I went through some depression when my husband and I found out we couldn’t have kids. I wish someone would have recommended therapy for me. I know it would have helped. (I’m fine now. We’ve adopted 2 children and I’m coping with the loss that comes with infertility.)
And, if you are actually looking for input on the stove, I love white appliances. You’ve got so much in your kitchen that draws the eye (the piano island and that mirror), that another centerpiece like a cobalt blue stove/oven might be too much. Although, what am I saying? You’re a hoarder and possessor of the GFTs, *of course* you need a cobalt blue stove. If it gets the creative juices flowing (the ones that say, “I want to finish this kitchen”), it sounds like the right choice.
August 31, 2017 @ 4:00 pm
I just want to give you a hug. I lost my Noodles, suddenly in January. I can so relate. Pour your love into Paul and those foster kittens. Hoping each day gets a bit brighter.
August 31, 2017 @ 4:31 pm
Well, I do hope you get back to the decorating part….and the smart and snarky posts. I’ve missed those. BTW I know some of the commentors were criticizing other commentors comments (huh?) My feeling is, they are very entertaining, and if you are going to have a blog, and have a comment section, all comments should be welcome…..unless they are unnecessarily rude or offensive. Welcome back VEB. We are on year two of what should have been a 6 month renovation. Some people (me) just cant make a decision I will have to live with until the end of time.
August 31, 2017 @ 10:54 pm
ps please take care of yourself. When I was reading your post I thought, wow, she really sounds depressed…I dismissed my thought, because I am not a professional…but now after reading how others picked up on it, I guess I wasnt that far off. I know this had nothing to do with stoves……
September 1, 2017 @ 10:02 am
I would choose a black stove to go with the gorgeous piano island. It would be a gorgeous, fancy, black-tie, kitchen. Every other fancy thing you find in the future will go with it. It’s also the color of your dear Elvis.
My thoughts are with you and your ongoing loss.
September 1, 2017 @ 11:32 am
I too have a guy named Paul. After the sudden death of one of my dearest friends this past December I too have been in the grief freeze. This has been the worst he has ever seen me. ( this is the worst it has been since the death of my mother in 82) . And he also stays.
He is good about not pushing and saying where do you want dinner from, instead of what’s for dinner.
Copper is always a beautiful choice.
September 1, 2017 @ 12:39 pm
Why in the name of abandoned Aardvarks are you wasting your time studying your flaws. Is there some anomaly in that brilliant brain that tells you you shouldn’t have any flaws?
Jeez louise girl ya got a treasure who loves you (his anger now is caused by panic-he’s your lifeguard and you are in choppy waters resisting all of his attempts to bring you back into the safe harbour of his love and protection and you just don’t wanna be saved right this minute cause despair makes no demands of action or accomplishment..just to dwell in a drab dark state of misery that gets kinda cozy and comfortable after awhile and hell what a tribute to the dearly departed. Self is slowly oozing into a permanent state of awful- all desperate proof of how much the loved one was loved.) You are way too unique in this crazy World to abandon yourself or your talents to the futile attempt to defeat the S**t of living. But being deliberately happy is a way to begin. The best advice I got to quit cigarettes was never ever say I am “trying to quit” Say with complete conviction I am not a smoker! So for my sake and all the strangers who love you-Please put down your bag of sad and pick up that bouquet of Dalias and happy and dance….with Paul into your future.
September 1, 2017 @ 3:43 pm
“Unfortunately For Paul” is my new favourite book. I especially love the chapter entitled “Paul Learns About Science”. As P.G. Wodehouse once said, sometimes you need to ride madly off in all directions. Safe journey!
September 1, 2017 @ 5:36 pm
Time takes time. I have been in paralysis mode for some time as well. So not me. I am even afraid and procrastinating about reading an article that just might reveal the magical and easy answers to my dilemmas. Ha! “Writing the Script for your Next Act” remains dog eared, folded and has moved all over the house, still unread. #weekendgoal
September 6, 2017 @ 7:54 am
Aw honey, just breathe. Grief knows no timeline and you are entitled to wallow in it. Eventually the fog will clear and I suspect that when it does, you will find your Paul standing there. The kitchen can wait. He can wait. He’s just trying, in his alien way,
to help move you forward. Sometimes the best answer is “not today.” Eventually you will make all of the decisions you need to, maybe just not today. That’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with you, you’re hurting. You will move beyond the immediacy of your pain in your own time. Just remember to tend to your hygiene on occasion and to breathe. My heart goes out to you.
September 7, 2017 @ 4:54 pm
We call this being out of fucks. Sometimes I feel like I’m so out of fucks that I have negative fucks, and maybe a note from god saying “IOU sum fux”. Don’t worry though, your fucks will return. All you can do until then is keep on keepin’ on.
September 8, 2017 @ 11:52 am
You never know how long grieving will last, and you are grieving. Don’t think of the whole kitchen. What’s one small thing you or Paul can do to move forward. Then stop and rest a bit. It doesn’t all need to be done at once. Just something small…..we will all love you anyway.
September 8, 2017 @ 12:39 pm
Never promise when you’re happy.
Never reply when you’re angry.
Never decide when you’re sad.
Ziad Abdelnour
September 8, 2017 @ 5:07 pm
Girl, sounds like you’re an avoidant-type. Me too. It’s so, so, so hard to unstick from it when you’re caught in a cycle of guilt/shame… guilty for not finishing projects, for keeping people waiting, for not meeting what you think are peoples’ expectations (but are really probably yours and yours alone- the people who love you, who matter, know who you are and don’t expect you to be any different ); and then the inevitable shame that just makes you want to keep on hiding. Over and over. Be gentle with yourself, forgive yourself- but be honest with yourself, too. Keep a light shined on the things that make you feel like hiding.
Everyone’s different, but when I need to unstick, I always start with lists. It brings all the tasks that I’m afraid of out in the open, where I can’t ignore them, but in a non-threatening and non-tangible way. Then I break them down.
…whatever you do, do not worry about the expectations you think your readership has for you. We know you by now, and we know you’re worth the wait. Take care!
September 8, 2017 @ 5:38 pm
Yeah, I have had this happen too, for two dogs of ours. Sorrow for a while, then everything is OK, but everything is also very flat. But this also passed, given more time, and then everything was good again.
Is there anything making you stuck in the flat phase? Anything you circle back around and think about with regret/dread/pain, push away, and it comes back again later relentlessly? Sort through it and figure out how to make peace with it. Puzzle it over, tease it apart, locate the thing you can’t bear to remember. And then: forgive yourself, forgive the vet, take it on as a mission that that thing will never happen to another animal in your care… whatever it takes to incorporate it into yourself and your story.
And emerge into the other side of the experience, the part of your life you go on and live afterwards.
September 9, 2017 @ 6:23 am
Bugger I’d written something lovely, not beautiful, but good for me and it lost it! My sentiment is it’s good to talk and sharing your thoughts hopefully helps you through this time and there’s always someone who appreciates your writing.
Do take care of yoursel, the kitties need you x
September 14, 2017 @ 12:33 pm
Oh, sweet girl, grief has no timetable. And you’re an emotional woman, so grief will take a worse toll.
Tell me, by any chance are you the type who gets obsessed with something for several years, then moves on to something else? Because I am, and am wondering if maybe you are as well, and are simply over your Kitchen Phase. At least to the point where you can not care so very much about every minute detail?
Because truly, you are just one glorious stove and a GFT or three from having The Best Kitchen On the Entire Interwebz; I think Paul could take it from there.
Really, you just need to pick the stove ( my choice would be the black with gold, cobalt second choice, although the yellow would be my favorite if I weren’t afraid of being limited to certain design choices going forward), the GFT can be gotten as they present themselves.
It would be easier for you to decide/design/choose within the confines of the space left after the stove is in place, too, trust me.
Sending healing and peaceful vibes to soothe your grieving raccoon brain, and much love, if that isn’t too creepy!