Waiting to Exhale

One need not be a chamber to be haunted;

One need not be a house;

The brain has corridors surpassing

Material place.  

Emily Dickinson

There is a film called Waiting to Exhale.  I have never seen it, but I now have an idea of what a title like this can mean.

It seems that I have been holding my breath for about 3 weeks now.  When my lovely daughter got on the plane to go to China,  I began holding my breath.  I am waiting to exhale.

I have had insomnia and interrupted sleep.  I will be happy when she is home in her bed around midnight tonight.  As long as the planes are on time.   I cannot wait to see her smiling face. Okay, it will be a very tired and jet lagged face at first,  but I can hardly wait.  I know I will not sleep until she comes through that front door.   

I thought I would be picking her up at the airport, but it seems her friend's father is going to do that.  Maybe I will drive out there and pick her up anyway!   I love the airport and anxiously awaiting the arrival of a loved one.

I am quite sure I am very neurotic, and I was happy for her to have this adventure, but I will be even happier for her to be home  and begin her search for her new job and her next adventure.

I am sure that other factors have been at work making the crazy person I have been for a couple of weeks;  a daughter moving back to the dorm,  menopause,  and pause of men.  Having a male friend get the delusional idea that I wanted to marry him and then just disappearing has left me feeling rather odd.  I am glad to see him go, no longer count him as a friend, and would not wish him back again, yet it made me feel disquieted for him to act as he did.

So like the photo,  I am trying to let my worries go.  I doubt it is possible!  I am ultimately a worrier.