A New Day, A New Night, A New Fright

Oh my.  In just a few hours I'll be... "there".  The place that I've wanted to be for a few months.  Okay, maybe I've actually thought I wanted to be there for a few years. But I'm not really sure I actually wanted to be there.  Kind of like thinking that being Angelina Jolie would be cool.  But not really.  Because then you'd have all those kids, and that husband that every woman thinks they want -- but he still farts in bed.  And of course, then you have to lug around those big lips that all women are envious about.  Nope, I didn't really want to be Angelina Jolie, and I'm not sure how much I really wanted to go on this retreat.  Three nights?  In virtual silence?  Okay, if there were other retreatants that might want to make a comment or two as you passed them in the communal bathroom it would be okay.  But I'm not even sure I like sharing my bathroom with my husband of 21 years, nor the four daughters that I've had for quite some time now.

So, it's the eve of... well, you know. The "RETREAT".  My bags are kind of packed.  I went to the dollar store to buy toothpaste, soap, shampoo... I wanted to buy a Winnie the Pooh puzzle, but that just didn't seem right.  I'm supposed to be communing with God, Goddess, or someone.  I'm pretty sure it's not a 24 piece puzzle of good 'ole Winnie.  Man, I love that guy. However, I passed him by, bought my "stuff" for said RETREAT, and came home.  I've lugged out the suitcase.  I've packed all my "stuff".  Outfits that match, that are comfortable -- because I'm sure the monks will be all too concerned about my attire. I'm mostly packed.  I hope I remember my pillow.  And then there's my mom's quilt that I can't sleep without.  Actually, I'm just this close to packing Boo-boo, my steadfast companion from my youth, a worn, once pink but now gray small bear.  But no.  Boo-boo stays behind.

What comes are some freshly sharpened pencils.  A new journal.  A sketch pad, with a heavy back and front so you can lean on it anywhere.  Some almonds (just in case I find myself protein starved),butter flavored pretzels (just in case I find myself junk food starved), and the old Diet Coke.  Well, just in case.  My computer with its networks disabled, so I can truly only write.  Not play Farkle online, or check my mundane email.  Not check Ebay, or do anything else that will make facing the quiet easier, or easier to ignore.  The solitude that I crave, and more importantly, I need.

I'm a bit concerned about leaving the girls.  I haven't been alone without all four of them in eighteen years.  That's one whole heck of a long time.  I think they'll be fine.  My husband has big plans.  Big plans.  I'm not sure what they are, nor am I sure he knows what they are, but I know they'll be laughing their butts off over jokes I would find offensive.  The big girls have made plans to do something more civilized with their girlfriends, but my youngest has major big plans.  Life with Dad, for a few days, is heaven.

That, in itself, will be worth the awkward moment when I can't remember how to sing phonetically in Latin.  I asked one of the monks can I bring my fan so I can sleep.  He said yes.  So, that bad daddy is packed, and other than that, I'm good to go.  Nervous, scared about what I may discover.  Maybe more nervous about what I may not discover.  But this too shall pass... just like a few good fart jokes that will be passed around the house while I'm gone.  I'm thinking I'm not going to be sorry I missed them, and I'm pretty sure the monks wouldn't appreciate them if I told them.

Here's to three days of just me.  For better or for worse.