Kissin' my old faith (and loves) goodbye

I've been doing a lot of mental housekeeping the past few weeks.

And I have to say, it hasn't been easy.

Or pretty.

Or fun.

I like easy, pretty and fun, just sayin'.

But not only do I need to put the puzzle of my life (and that of my kids) back together, but in a way, I need to take the pieces and put together a new puzzle.

Within the next month, the battle I'm waging with my son over schooling must be resolved.

Somehow I need to find space in my life to accommodate work and the practicum I've begun at a local community college.

Living within a more modest budget is crucial, now that the house is done.

And I need to move purposefully towards a future that will hopefully include a very different sort of work than I've been pursuing before.

Then there is the whole relationship piece.

I'm done with compromising myself to make room for men who aren't willing to do the same back.

After grieving for a long time over a relationship I thought had potential, I've seen enough to figure out that it probably would have ended in epic disaster.

OK, well, maybe not "Titanic" -- more of a "b" grade weeper.

Cue the Lady Gaga.

Sometimes I wish I'd had a bad romance, just to know what it was like.

Most days, not so much.

I'm reminded of the lovely scene with Joan Plowright in "Enchanted April," where she says that she is remembering "better times, and better men."

I'd love to think that "better man" is still in my future -- but I'm also a realist.

Two kids to get through high school and on to college.

A new line of work, and a pressing need to bring in income.

Old work, and the ongoing belief that I could work harder and achieve more.

Not to mention the effort that goes into reestablishing friendships and making new ones.

That's enough for the moment.

I think I've been saved from heartbreak.

And I can't dance about it yet, but the day is coming when I will -- before it slips into the past, a half-regret, remembered only in prose.