We are standing the spare room, the room that used to be ours before we moved to a better one when teh Damn Emos flew the coop.
A room that is essentially now a dressing room/clothes drying/don’t know where to put this shit but it is too good to put in the garage with all the other crap room.
MPS is standing in the doorway eating a bowl of cereal, watching me while I stare at the clothes on the airer trying to slow my thoughts.
Today he has an interview, and the applications for the permanent job he has been contracting for are due this afternoon.
‘I get it now. You are scared because something good might happen. You are waiting for…’
‘The axe to fall’ I reply. I haven’t been able to breathe properly for days and those 4 words encompass all the feelings, the horrible horrible fucked up dreams, that have been smothering me.
‘I was going to say ‘other shoe to drop’. Lets go with that’
But it is a axe.
A guillotine.
A shiny cut throat blade hovering over my head.
My Pavlovian response, drooling as the bells of doom ring in my head.
The rush of adrenaline, my constant companion.
Trying not to pin all my hopes and all of my happiness on the decisions that are out of my control.
Wanting just one motherfucking thing to go our way.
We have been here before, so many times.
So many, many fucking times.
Sometimes, not even noticing the axe.
Sometimes, it is held by someone I love.
Sometimes, trying desperately to pretend it isn’t there.
But it is always there, why would it be any different now?
I plan and dream and smile.
And try to believe that this time will be different. That it is our turn for something great.
Or even just mundanely normal.
To be just like we were, before it all went to shit.
So I wait, my mind slowly disconnecting, preparing to watch from those dizzying heights of hope as the axe falls
and I crumple to the ground.
Defeated once more.

{ 18 comments… read them below or add one }
This time the blade has rusted over and that fucker is stuck fast.
Because I say so.
Things will work out.
Because I say so.
Hell, if saying “because I say so” stopped my aunt from having cancer in her liver, it’ll work here too.
BECAUSE I SAY SO.
Sometimes, as pessimistic as it is, we have to plan for the worst but hope for the best. In this case all the hoping of your readers is behind you, so that has to count for something. Let’s hope that the guillotine never falls and you just laugh manically at how scared it made you, all for it to amount to nothing bad. You need a break for all the shit thrown your way.
Keep that goddamned axe busy by using it to hack some lemons to within an inch of their lives. Two good things here… axe is busy and …. MARGUERITAS!
Love you! xoxo
Well I will be praying for the BEST news ever. You’ve had enough already!
I don’t know what to say Kelley. Hoping like hell you do get the good news xx
Fingers, toes, and eyes crossed for you guys. I will even put aside my knitting for this guillotine (which is a big ask, because I just got some LOVELY lace-weight merino and am about to cast on an amazing lace shawl. see what I’m prepared to give up for you?)
xxxoooxxx
Hugs.
I’m crossing my fingers for a break for you.
Wishing very hard that MPS gets that permanent job so that you have security at last.
And a lotto win too.
*hugs* my love. I sit here waiting for the ineveitable xxx
Good luck, and much wine.
(((hug))) (You are currently wearing pants, yes? Not sure I want to hug a half-naked pantsless Kelley so early in the morning…)
Hey, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it!
Such a familiar feeling. Wishing you a change of luck at last x
Best wishes…
It’s hard. So much love and I hope the axe doesn’t drop.
Just wait, and breathe. It’s all you can do.
It’s the trying to believe this time will be different that is the fucking hardest to deal with. Sending good luck, positive vibes and happy thoughts your way.
Hope hurts.
Self defensive not hoping is hurtful too. I like to pick something possible to hope for and invest some emotion in that, as a healing exercise to buffer against the big, overwhelming nasties.
oh lovely, I hear you
If my week was thrown into catastrophe last week – I would have read this and felt your pain just as I was feeling mine
I hate the feelings your describe – such a perfect post
Love the guillotine, just love it xx