FullaBella's Journal, 24 February 2015

Finally recovered a bit physically to get back to journaling. The vendor event went well - it was a trade show of my profession but rather than setting up in it to show & sell I just organized it for other vendors. Weather was a little challenging early but we still had over 200 people thru the door in the first 4 hours so the vendors were quite happy and requested I organize another. It is now scheduled for August.

All things food Saturday? Not the best quality but not so bad quantity. Pizza and donuts. Sigh. Moving on. I like to think I did some damage control physically with the setting up & breaking down of tables and chairs, being on my feet all day and getting a lot of steps in Fri & Sat.

And as for the soap opera going on in my life I’m beginning to wonder if Harley and I are finished. It’s becoming glaringly obvious he has no interest in my profession - which is fine with me - but displays complete contempt for it. To quote him Saturday eve: “The weather was gorgeous this afternoon; all I could think was ‘we should be together, riding the Harley, enjoying the outdoors, anything, but you were at your F’g Trade Show’.

However, while that didn’t set so well with me it wasn’t so much the catalyst as his complete lack of contact since I came home Sunday eve. He wanted me to stay the night but I was concerned of getting iced in away from home. While that sounds cozy and romantic, it just wasn’t wise. I had to think about power outages and my backup security alarm draining and the overall safety of my business; I am responsible and needed to be here.

The emotion I cannot deny though is despite pouring rain and minimal visibility as I left his home and began my drive home I felt more relief at the idea of returning home than ‘driving tension’ being on the road.

Not a word from him since I left; no contact asking if I arrived home safely. Nothing at all. I know this being modern times I could contact him but … why? If he’s not that concerned with my safety… what flame am I attempting to fan to life?

So, we shall see.

Food that night (Sunday) off the charts bad. I’d been thinking about the pint of Haagen Daz cherry amaretto gelato I’d left in his freezer and how good it would feel on my churning aching stomach and the plan to stop and pick up one for home somehow morphed into a Whataburger takeout window drive thru retrieving a cheeseburger, fries and a vanilla shake. Emotional eating. Sabotage eating. Self Abuse Eating. Pick a label; any of them would be right.

Monday was better except for the handful of caramels while watching St. Vincent on Amazon last night.

And today begins another day to get better, be better, try harder and make progress. Physical, mental, and emotional health awaits.

Bells