I am so boring, so boring, so boring. Nothing to say but what I've said a million times which is that I'm nervous, I'm anxious (not that kind of anxious but I can feel myself trying to slide into it and I lasso myself back from the edge and so far that's working) and I woke up last night and worried about every blessed thing in the universe which I have any control over at all as well as many I do not and fretted and found the cat's head to softly stroke and did my alphabet game in my head over and over again and I'd fall asleep and jerk back awake...what letter was I on?- to fret and worry some more.
It is beautiful here this morning, of course, and the young chicks made it out of the shelter as far as a third of the way down the fence, my little flockette, they are so darling, learning to be chickens, to scratch, to be wary, to pay attention to everything around them.
HOW WILL MY WORLD PROCEED WITHOUT ME HERE IN IT?
I told Anna yesterday that I am quite aware that within a few hours of her being here, Maurice will have become her familiar. I am under no illusions about that.
This morning I said to Mr. Moon that I am nervous. He said, "I am nervous too."
"What are you nervous about?" I asked him.
"That two weeks is a long time for me not to have anything I have to do."
"What are you nervous about?" he asked me.
"Getting there," I said.
"Oh, that'll be a breeze."
We are so different. I've packed an entire wardrobe of clothes. He's packed an entire duffel of dive stuff, leaving no room whatsoever for clothes.
Well. It will all work out and I feel quite sure that we'll find something to do while we're there. Perhaps we'll even go over to the mainland, rent a car in Playa del Carmen and drive through the jungle and go visit some ruins. Why not?
As they say in Mexico, "Quien sabe?"
I'm nervous. I'm nervous. I'm nervous and boring and good morning, good morning, I have to call and see if my sunglasses are in yet, I am going to go get my hair trimmed with Lily and the boys later on, we are going to lunch, I am going to miss my children and my grandchildren but you know, I am going to Mexico where I will be Maria Luna who is yes, a mother, a grandmother, an abuela, but who is also merely and simply herself and an esposa, a wife, we will be sweethearts, novios (have I spelled any of these Spanish words correctly?) and soon, so soon, we will be stepping off the airplane to walk across the tarmac in the middle of the jungle and I will feel the soft air, I will feel the bones of the Maya all around me, I will see the faces of the Maya all around me, oh god. I hear a dog puking.