9/18/2012

Frustration

I feel like I'm super glued to a rickety old wood table in some rickety old wood house where the wind howls through the tiny cracks in the window frames. But as I loosely dangle my feet over the hard wood chair ledge I'm not even phased by those haunting howling ghost noises which normally produce mosquito bite sized goosebumps.Oh no. Because all I can focus on is that little plastic popper in the middle of the plastic board game. 

Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.

No matter how many times I slam my palm down on that irritating bubble I can never ever roll a 6. I can never get out. Never race around the game board.  Never join in the fun. Never get all of my little pieces to their home.

Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.

 1. 4. 5. 2.

 Damnit. I need a 6. For sobbing out loud just pop a goddamn 6. 

Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.

Finally. Two perfect rows of 3 black dots balance and fall. For a brief moment I smile and simultaneously pinch my fingers over one of my tiny green (always green) plastic pieces and slam it into the lime green  START column. Yes. I've done it.

"Finally! I'm on the board! I'll roll again."

Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.

1.

Damnit.

And so I move just one space and cautiously watch as the next person pushes hard on the plastic hemisphere. All the while I whisper - beckon - that tiny die not to produce a 4. Anything but a 4. Don't let them land on my little green guy. Please don't knock me back, I only just got out. I've only just found start.

Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.

4.

Damnit.

And so I watch as they giggle and clink their shiny red piece on top of my sad little green one. 
"Sorry!" They say. But they're not sorry because, let's face it, that's the whole point of the game. And the truth of the matter is that everyone is only looking out for numero uno. Everyone has their eyes on their very own finish line. So I sit there, once again, staring at all of my little green pieces in a nice straight row. They can't move though because they're stuck there, kind of like I am to that hard wood chair, waiting to make a move. Waiting to get involved. Waiting to start again. Waiting to get home. They're stuck there, impatiently waiting for me to roll a 6. A 6 that just will not come. But still I try again.

Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.

1.

Damnit. 

And the game goes on and I force myself to sit up tall and not let them know I'm filled with frustration. And as I swing my feet and drown out the howling of the wind outside I can't help but wonder how long I'll have to wait beforel I roll that 6 I so desperately need. But still I try again.

Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.
~
It's kind of been one of those days. Well, months really. I miss my home. I miss my friends and family. I miss my independence. I miss teaching. I miss driving. I miss the smell of Vermont. I miss Carl and I having our own home. I miss a routine. I miss normalcy. 

And I'm so very sick of waiting.

But they say that tomorrow is another day, so who knows? Perhaps it's finally my turn to roll a 6.

Lots of love, love, love,

3 comments:

  1. This post is awesome. Not what is actually happening but your description. I'm sorta in your shoes. We've lived away from home for 8 years. And the past 4 here in Florida have been very lonely. I miss home so much. I'm at the mercy of John's job and I hate it. I just do my best to make the most of the life we've made. I'm sorry you are feeling stuck. Hope your little green game piece makes it home soon!!

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  2. Oh girl, I'm so hoping you roll a 6 very very soon! I can't imagine how hard the waiting must be on you & Carl!

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