somewhere between a death and a busboy

A random thought from the other day:

Several years back, I had gotten into doing the Windsor Pilates workout.  There was a bit where Mari Windsor is talking about exercises you glutious maximus (your butt) muscles and she says “Gotta make both cheeks even,”.  That stupid line has stuck with me for years.

Don’t worry I’m going somewhere with this…

I found myself saying that line out loud the other day, and I started to think about the last time I did that workout – during my Previous Life.  That got me thinking about Jabba and the fact that I don’t have any real memories of her and that kind of day-to-day stuff anymore.  It occurred to me:  I don’t really know her anymore.  That whole marriage experience has faded from memory.  It is simply a part of my THE past now.  This is one of the instances where I feel very fortunate to live as far from Jabba and The Kid as I do.  Out of sight, out of mind indeed.

This realization was very liberating for me, given how promising last week’s teacher fair was. I spoke with representatives from a school district just outside of Atlanta and they seemed very interested in me.  This got me very excited about the future:  with The Auteur, with 1B.  Being closer, but not too close, to The Kid.   In a place where The Auteur and I can BOTH pursue our professional goals.

It never ceases to amaze me the way that people just pass in and out of our lives.  I’m reminded of a line that Richard Dreyfuss says as The Writer in Stand By Me: “It happens sometimes.  Friends [sic] come in and out of our lives, like busboys in a restaurant”.  I’m not saying all of this because I miss Jabba.  God knows I don’t.  It’s just amazes me sometimes:  this human ability to have somebody so inextricably linked to you and your life one day, and through a relatively short amount of time, no longer be a factor.

Of course, I say all of this now, knowing that i’ll be bitching again when the time come for me to get The Kid for the summer and I have to deal with her all over again.

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