Eggs over Surprise

This week hasn't been a balanced one--in fact I found myself on the verge of tears a handful of times. On the contrary, there were also some really good parts of my week; reconnecting with friends, good workouts.

The Bartender left for a river trip yesterday for 3 weeks. We talked on the phone a few days ago, when he suggested we get together for dinner or lunch. This week's lunch and dinner slots were already filled, so I asked if he could do Friday morning breakfast. He said he was leaving too early in the morning, so I told him I'd call him back if I found some time. I was bummed as I was craving Big Sky breakfast--and even contemplated going alone.

So I never called back, as I didn't have the open time. I was walking downtown for an appointment yesterday (Friday) when who do I see walking towards me? The Bartender and Andy--the new girlfriend. It's not a big deal, but it stung. They were going to my spot, to Big Sky, where I used to work and him. They couldn't help but to make PDAs right in front of me, and all she managed to do was to giggle. All of which I could have lived without, thanks very much.

Some of our mutual friends have described (in detail) what they dislike about her and that somehow makes me feel better, but the image in my head of walking into his room to a half naked Andy and The Bartender will never disappear. They did look happy yesterday--and that makes me happy. I'm glad I wasn't drinking when I met her or I may have heckled her a bit.

I tried to let it go, I still am working hard at it, and it's easier for the fact that I adore The Musician and I'm very happy with him, and also for the fact that I don't want to be with The Bartender... but that being the culmination to my week--I'm fragile, still digesting.

I'm almost certain I will go back to school. I may even see if I can get into the Fall program, but then financial aide wouldn't kick in. I'm sick of having too many commitments, too many hats. I feel ungrounded and uncentered, and for a yoga teacher, that doesn't fit. I can't help others unless I myself am together. I sometimes feel like it's a show, I pretend I'm all these things, some of which I start to believe.

It's time to create another big dream and make it happen.

Just breathe; you don't want him anyway.

The lesson is: sometimes you can never prepare yourself for old lesions to be prodded at again.