Wishes

I saved the candle, plucking it from the mountain of white frosting atop my cake, unable to think of a suitable wish for my 33rd birthday celebration.

I saw it today - perched in a magnetic basket on the side of my refrigerator that rattles sometimes. I nestled a chip-clip next to it and briefly pondered lighting it, hoping for some residual birthday magic and making a better wish.

I don't know what I'd want though. I still feel a bit distant - separate - from both present and future.

"So when do people start jumping ship?" I asked Adam on Friday and he shrugged before shifting in his chair. He explained that the people in the group who were thinking of moving on would likely be unable to do so. Periods of transition, politics, priorities - all the right buzz words that explained why it's beyond their control or his control or anyone's control, really, for the good of the business.

"Oh," I replied, shoulders slumping and he laughed at me for wanting to be rid of colleagues. "No, no," I denied, smiling with him. "I just want something to change - new people, new goals, new...something."

I just feel stuck. And bored. And a little tired.

I dreamed I was pregnant - have this vivid mental picture of masculine hands smoothing over my swollen belly with absent affection as we sat together reading a book.

I was naming dogs during a different nap - there were 8 of them and I was letting them inside from a chaotic romp in the yard. And I wanted to call them something as I nuzzled and cuddled them, but all I could think of was Spot for the dalmatian and Honey for the yellow lab.

Given that there is no man or baby (or pack of dogs), I let myself perk at the thought of a trip to Europe. A new camera and good shoes and fabulous architecture do a lot to make a Katie happy.

It's not all bad, I scold myself. My lovely tax refund was deposited in my bank account and I had nothing to do with it. I transferred it into savings, wondering at steady progression from no debt to not living month to month to watching money accumulate steadily in an account that mostly gathered dust throughout my adult life.

I have a house I love in a place I have no desire to leave.

"I'm like a knowledge ninja!" I cried last week after neatly dispatching 4 phone calls with quick and easy answers or orders. My experience makes it easy - don't offend this person, tell the truth with that one, try to find a way to help here but ignore there.

So what do I want? And why don't I know?