Part 74: Coming to You from My Favorite Place

Home with my man in Florida!

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After finding out that we won’t find out anything further on Mr. Lucky’s case until July 24th, I made an executive decision. 

To go home. 

I can wait and worry just as easily here as I can in Virginia, but at least here I have Rob to share my worries with. And to kiss and hug and hang out with. When I saw his handsome face at the airport in Fort Myers, I thought I’d faint with relief and joy. 

And a little worry. 

The man looks amazing. Every pound I’ve gained, he’s lost. I’ve never seen him so svelte. And buff. I was like, Dude, should I be concerned? You gettin’ a little somethin’ somethin’ on the side? To which he replied, I have totally missed your Jersey mouth!

Me and my honey at The Continental. I should’ve asked him to stand up so you could see his skinny-ness!

It’s lovely to be home. We walk in the morning, go to the gym (I am currently a cripple thanks to the elliptical machine and the 12.5lb free weights), and nap like a couple of cats every afternoon when it rains. Like everywhere else in the country, it’s incredibly hot here but the a.c. works – even if he does like it on 75 and I’m like “67! We keep it at 67 in Virginia!” 

If you know me, you know I hate the heat. It makes me physically sick. I’ve even fainted from it. (More than once. What a baby, right?) I’m not sure what’s happening now, but when I take my extra walks in the afternoon, before the rain comes and in a desperate attempt to clock 10,000 steps a day, it doesn’t bother me. The sun beats my ghostly pallor, the sweat runs down my back and legs and pools in the crevasses in my neck (not a good look but if I remember to bring a bendy straw I can stay hydrated!), and I just don’t care. I find myself saying things like, “Bring it sun!” and “Is that all you got, high humidity?” I also find myself recalling Pema Chadron and her “embrace the heat!” admonishment. She also says to embrace the cold, but I can’t do that unless Rob goes out. 

Shhhh. Don’t tell him I touched the air conditioner!

In addition to my unusual new ability to embrace the heat is my unusual new ability not to worry. It’s bizarre. I mean, I’m a worry machine. I can go all day and all night. Worry about my shit and yours. Really. I used to think I could start a worry business. You know, take on other people's concerns and just worry the daylights out of them. I’d even charge for different levels of worrying: 

• The Pacing & Fretting Package – $100 an hour, limited to three worries. 

• The Hold My Head in My Hands Crumpled Into the Corner of the Couch and Rocking Package – $175 an hour, limited to nine worries. 

• The Pulling My Eyelashes Out in Clumps, Tearing at My Skin, Cursing and Crying Package – the Ultimate Worrying Experience – $250 an hour, unlimited worries (or until all my eyelashes are gone). 

But now, nope. I’m almost completely calm. I feel like this “thing” is finally coming to a close – and soon. How Mr. Lucky’s sentence will impact us, I’m unsure, but Rob and I have made it this far. We’ll figure out the next phase, too. We will take care of Mr. Lucky (and of course Mr. Rugby). And we’ll be fine. 

And sooner or later I’ll be home, for good, in Florida. 

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Thank you for taking this long, strange trip with me. I appreciate you and your many comments and emails. If you’d like to read parts 1-73, you can do so here.

And, if you’d like to check out my newest book, BOUNCE: A Memoir of Resilience, you can read the first two chapters FREE here. Just click on the cover. I’ll also be giving away free Kindle copies on Amazon from July 23-27! (Makes a great end-of-summer beach read!)