Setting Goals with Questionable Sanity

Well my birthday has come and gone. It was not too bad. I Skyped with my parents, got lots of messages on Facebook, and Tony and I went out to eat.Every year since I was a child, I always just want a plain chocolate cake for my birthday. I rately ever got that as a kid unless I made it myself. The last two years with Tony have not proven any better in the chocolate cake front. Last year he got me this beautiful cake with marzipan sides and loads of fresh fruit on top and a very thick center made from real fresh whipped cream. Sounds amazing right? Unless you happen to be lactose intolerant like I am.

This year we didn’t know of anyplace that made whole cakes so he just bought six individual pieces of cake from a deli. The pieces were three different flavors of … wait for it … cheese cake! I love my husband. He’s smart and kind and funny and loving but for some odd reason is completely incapable of remembering his wife can’t do dairy!  To be honest I had a feeling this would happen so the day before my birthday I went to a deli and got a piece of chocolate cake like I love and had my own little celebration and just smiled and had one piece of the cheese cake with the hubby on my birthday. Well have that discussion later when it won’t make him feel bad about it.

I’ve been trying since my birthday to get back to a regular schedule. Unfortunately, I am a natural born slug and have to fight my genetically ingrained tendencies if I want to be productive. It doesn’t help that I’m still fighting a bit of depression right now. With losing my Granny then Tony losing his Mom, it’s been a rough summer.

We thought we would have something to look forward to in October, Tony’s daughter coming to live with us, but now it looks at though that might not happen in October and may have to wait until January. It seems his ex-wife bought her a plane ticket without waiting for her residency visa to come through. Why she would do that is anyone’s guess.

I know when I was waiting for my visa to come live with Tony it was terrible. I had people telling it would be a month to get processed then when that didn’t come through I had someone tell me it would be two months. When it still didn’t happen another official said they didn’t know why anyone told me one or two months as all visa’s take at least three months if not more. It was extremely frustrating and I am an adult. I cannot imagine what it is like for a 16-year-old girl in an unhappy home life situation who desperately wants to come live with her Dad.

I will admit that part of me has been apprehensive as to how this teenager moving in with us will change our lives and potentially our relationship, but when Tony told me she may not get to move here until January my heart broke for her. I really want to get her out of that environment and with us. I think she will do so much better here.

Another thing that is not so great is Tony had thought his ex had taken care of all the paperwork since she had purchased the airplane ticket. He didn’t want his daughter to have to fly halfway around the world by herself so he bought a ticket to go there and fly back with her. That is 1,700 euros we are now out for a ticket he had to charge and he may not even be able to bring her back with him. This is on top of the 2,000 euros we just had to charge for an airline ticket so he could go back for his mother’s funeral.

With cash being so tight right now it will be January before I can start the German language lessons I have to take to earn my permanent visa. I just thank God for chocolate or I’d be nuts by now. Though it is possible that my sanity is a bit in question already. Something interesting and potentially disturbing has happened, I have developed an imaginary friend.

He’s a character from a TV show I started binge watching when Tony was in Chile. I don’t imagine the acto who plays the character, I imagine the character. He’s kind of a stock character, the bad boy with a heart of gold who is only bad because he’s been hurt too many times by people he trusted, that kind of thing. I think right now that character just struck a cord with me while I was here alone dealing with our family losses by myself.

When I was about 9-years-old I think, I had a clown statue I used to carry around and tell everyone he was my little brother George. So there is a bit of a precedent for me being weird. Especially considering I truly hate clowns now as an adult. Plus I’m an artist and a writer so I have a very active imagination but to have an imaginary friend pop up at 48-years-old seem a bit more quirky than usual.

Now I have a feeling this has all come about simply because I am in Germany with just my husband who works long hours Monday through Friday and goes on business trips once in a while. I have no other family or friends here and since I quit going to language classes everyday, I have literally no one to talk to. I get bored and my imagination starts going. When I’m walking to the store and I see someone trip or drop something I imagine my “friend” is tripping them or knocking things out of their hand but of course they can’t see him because, well, obviously he’s not really there. But it keeps me entertained and I’m sure it makes other people wonder why the crazy girl is walking around smiling to herself.

For now I’m not going to worry about it too much, unless I catch myself talking out loud to him, that would be really disturbing. It could be worse. I could be drinking or using drugs, so imaging a person to talk to once in a while really isn’t the worst thing I could be doing.

Maybe if I can get myself to a regular writing schedule I can channel some of this obviously over active imagination into my writing. I could end up writing the next great novel. After all many of the great writers and artists were a bit off their rockers so maybe this is all actually a really good sign. Though this could also just be a sign I need to be on anti-psychotics. only time will tell.

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