The waiting! The horrible, horrible waiting!

tap. tap.

Anyone who knows me knows I have very little patience. very little. little. I try really hard and for the most part can control my spastic tendencies and manage to not go nuts and fly apart into all sorts of directions all at once. little bits of monster everywhere. 

On the outside, in public, stoic with a smile, if that is possible. Alone? total spaz. total. Without an ounce of ability to handle any sort of excitement without running around the house jumping up and down and harassing the dog.

You will never see that if I can help it. Even those with otherwise privileged viewing don't get to see that. They can see me nakid, but not spazzing out and NEVER will anyone see both at the same time. Except the dog. He doesn't tell on me. And he can't hold a camera. No thumbs.

So the fact that I am sitting calmly typing on the computer, telling you all my deep dark secrets instead of freaking out over the fact that I am THIS CLOSE to signing papers on my house? A minor miracle. I totally thought it would be today and that I would have a key and be able to invite all the girls and boys over for a beer (or Mikes as the case may be) after practice. But it isn't. Which means I will have to sit through a WHOLE NOTHER day not spazzing out and concentrating on my work while my house is ALMOST MINE.

Almost. But not quite. But also not his.

Him. He is at the top of my list of wonderful men right now. He has been cleaning the house as he moves out. Cleaning! a Short Sale! Do you know how much stress he saved me? Seriously! My mom thinks I should give him my number but I think that's creepy. And I really need to stay away from the recently divorced ones. Ahem. They have healing to do. I'll still have to clean a bit, of course, but still, I am a lucky girl.

Practice will be a good place to spend all this excess energy. Derby. My favorite love/hate relationship. I love the skating. I hate the politics.  I consider leaving, but I love it so. I don't know how to be less involved. So much I don't say here because it is public. So many rants unspoken. And I don't think there is a way to password protect through blogger. 

I know. I shouldn't say anything here that I wouldn't shout from the rooftops. Which is why I don't. Hi5 chatted one day that I should remember that it is a hobby and not a lifestyle. He has no idea how the sport and the surrounding community suck you in. And in some cases suck you dry. I have joined a vampire cult? I look and feel great but sometimes I think I have given up my soul to get there. And when someone new joins? When they tell me how they love it? I rub my hands together and say "excellent" in my best Montgomery Burns impression because I know I have helped to hook someone else onto my drug. 

Then there are nights like tonight. Where I work as hard as I can and after feel warm and fuzzy and I remember why I stay.

Sigh. So many thing running thorough my head...