The squeaky clean garage

I cleaned the garage today.

It was in bad shape. I have an awesome garage with lots of storage, perfect for putting stuff away that you don’t want to ever see again.

I kept shaking my head, laughing at some of the crap that was in there. Keeping the garage clean was not one of Brad’s strong points. (You’re probably so grateful to know that I am aware that Brad had faults–there are few, but they exist.)

Every once in a while, I’d get overwhelmed with excited feelings of Brad seeing the clean garage and then tremendous let down when I remembered that that wouldn’t happen.

{Let’s stop right there.}

This is really what I want to talk about. Because that makes me sound totally insane right?

I’ve said stuff like this before and I have a hard time explaining what I mean. It really bugs me and I’m always worried that people are thinking, “Uh-oh, Tahsha’s lost it again.”

I’m not stupid, and I’m only a little crazy.

It’s not like I truly have those conscious thoughts. It’s not like for two whole minutes I’ve completely lost my mind and forgotten my reality.

They’re more like . . . Feelings. If I were to put words to the feelings I had while cleaning the garage they’d go like this:

I can’t wait to see the look on Brad’s face when he sees that I cleaned out the garage for him.

I’m so excited to surprise Brad.

Brad’s going to be so happy.

I better hurry so I have time to shower and dress up nice because Brad’s totally going to take me out to a nice dinner tonight.

I get these kind of feelings all the time.

I don’t want to cook dinner tonight. I wonder if Brad will mind if I get pizza.

I’d better call Brad and tell him I’ll be home a little late.

I need to see if Brad doesn’t mind if I go hang out with my friends.

I can’t wait for Brad to come home so I can tell him the funny things Leah did today.

I hope Brad will be home soon so he can make me feel better.

See, these are just feelings, natural instincts that have been ingrained in me for six years. Most of the time they’re small, almost unnoticeable. I’ll be busy, absorbed in work, life with Leah, or watching TV and these sneaky little feelings will catch me by surprise.

The pain comes when these feelings totally take over and for only a split second they actually do become a believable thought. Then reality crashes over me, sucker punches me in the guts and I can’t catch my breath.

It’s like the logical, stuck-in-reality part of me has to constantly tell the irrational denial-based part of me to shut up. The part that can’t get six years of routine out of my head. The part that still cannot believe that this is real. The part that’s still waiting for him to come through the door.

In the mean time, the garage is clean.

So that’s a good thing–a blessing I get to count.

It was hard work. I was covered in dirt, grease and dog hair (I know, sexy.) But it felt so good to cross that nagging project off my list. I’m still proud of myself when I go out and see the garage all clean.

I almost expect a little sparkle to beam at me.