My Beach Hair

I am wearing my beach hair. I feel pretty, oh, so pretty. I am only partially sane. The house is empty again. The thunder is sneaking around. It thundered while I slept. Eli has become an extension of my body. Now at my feet, curled against my stomach on the bed. I showered him with iced tea, trying to pour it without watching the glass. It fills my lap as well. I don't want to stand up. We will be up late, having slept the evening away. My beverage refrigerator sits within reach of my computer for my constant infusions of diet Coke through bendy straws stuck in the secret hole. The bathroom refrigerator is for food - hot dogs, mayonnaise and soggy Stouffer's chicken and rice which doesn't stay frozen. No ice cream. I balance my food on the edge of the bathroom sink, juggling the tv dinners among the makeup and Pear's soap. A few china dishes are in the hutch in the living room. The rest are packed away in the basement. I eat off paper plates. Everything is nuke-able. I have no need of pots and pans. There is a cupboard for my groceries. Crackers, soup, vegetables in cans. And Skippy. I eat a lot of peanut butter. I ate Phyllis' tomato for dinner, dunked in dressing, and bread with Skippy that I shared with Eli. He shares everything I eat. My dinner companion. I hate to leave him tomorrow, but the "vacation" planning has been so complicated, he is better in the kennel. I thought I would be going to Maine alone. Tony and I have barely spoken all week. He is playing golf tomorrow and will be incoherent by the time I see him. I will do my laundry, take Eli to Carl's, pack and spend the night on Main Street. Tony wants to leave at 5 a.m. I am sure he just said that to annoy me, but I didn't rise to the bait. We'll see, we'll see. What a bizarre life. I need the beach. I want to walk the shore and take pictures and let the breeze blow in my crazy hair. Chinny is draped across the back of the couch. She and Eli seemed to have worked out a plan. There is no more arguing for a prime spot on the bed. They even touch noses once in a while. I had a pain for Ollie today, when I stepped out of the shower and he wasn't on the bathmat, paws crossed, soft-eyed, waiting for me. I haven't been thinking of him so much lately. Still, every time I do, my eyes fill up. Eli is watching the door as if expecting someone. I hope not. I took off my dress and am sitting here half-naked. I don't think Lauren will be coming home. T-rex is with his father and Zach, of course, is making his own life now. Monday is my first baby's birthday. She will be 41. I feel a poem in there, but seeing as I can't use my Word, it may not get written. I have become very dependent on using my computer to compose. It is midnight and the air is heavy. Josh and Amy are back in the city. It must have been awful there today. Tom was lugging Tara's junk up three floors, I think he said. I am so glad that Josh has Amy and Egan. All of our lives are changing and changing. But I have Eli.