Caterwauling

Had such a good day yesterday. This afternoon, however, brought a couple of un-publishable blog posts that are now sitting in my draft folder.

Just a couple, as I was busy un-screwing up what was screwed up. And everyone thought I was behind BEFORE! *muahahahahaaaa*

Unrelated, more work is coming. But there’s a calvary that comes with this installment. And thank God because my capacity is pretty stretched. Maybe these folks won’t kill me.

Maybe.

Also unrelated (perhaps), someone noted my humor or soul or whatever has been a little bit darker lately. I think I feel like I became myself, in all her outspoken and crass and flawed and yet POWERFUL glory, again recently.

Also unrelated, perfect spelling and grammar and proper A.P. Style make me, like, wring-out-the-panties hot. Which we knew. The good/bad news (depending) is, no one within 1,000 miles is in any danger of making THAT happen.

Back to work …

Barely competent help or none at all — which is worse?

It’s like “The Biggest Loser,” only stress makes me fat.

In thinking (briefly) about travel plans, I realize I actually have to tell people I’m evaporating for a couple days.

The worst part is I have no problem with the reaction to what evil deeds I will likely be up to, but rather with the Hearing About It that I could catch Ebola or the enterovirus.

I grew up in an age where you’d rather hear you were knocked up than have an STD. These days it’s more preferable to hear you have an STD rather than killer explosive diarrhea.

Somebody get me a bedazzled surgical mask and allow me to go into denial for a little while …

All right, Meteor That is Always Zeroed in on my Forehead, waiting to map its coordinates and wipe out my existence.

I booked a flight.

And while I *could* do my usual morning project that day from the airport, I’m going to take a leap of faith that I can have coverage that day.

I’m going to do my usual and forget entirely that I have a trip booked. Until, like the day before when I’m working late and haven’t yet packed.

After all, we don’t want that meteor to know our whereabouts until the last possible moment so it cannot possibly have an opportunity to screw with us.

Dear Meteor,

Please don’t screw this up.

Love,
Goddess

One of my boys called me late last week, to continue a prank he’s pulling on me. We got a good laugh and I asked what was new in his world.

He told me about his ex-wife’s latest shenanigans and we bemoaned the fact he will never truly be rid of her. I said she must have been really damn pretty, since I have yet to hear a single redeeming quality about her.

He said, “Goddess, I got married because I was lonely.”

And it put so many — SO MANY — people into perspective for me.

I often say I’m married since I work hard and provide and do all the errands and the driving and am basically not allowed to go out and there is hell to pay when I do.

One of my D.C. boys said to me, tangled up on his couch in front of his fireplace late one March night and drinking wine from countries I’ll never visit, that it’s “codependance.” With the “a.”

It’s a dance. You HAVE to provide and you HAVE to take care of them to some extent (and there are boundaries) but you can’t completely lose yourself in the process.

And it got me to thinking, once we get Ebola and the enterovirus cured (oh God we need to stop these epidemics), we ought to cure the most-universal malady of them all …

Loneliness.

We all do crazy things in the name of it. Some get married. Some of us decide not to go to a vintage pinball party on a Saturday night that we have been looking forward to for six weeks because we can’t take another argument about the Life Choices we make to stave off the loneliness. And some of us occasionally — and just occasionally — lay themselves down to sleep and say “You know, it wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t wake up.”

Alas, we do rouse from our slumber. But I don’t think we ever truly awaken.

And in that, we we are not ever alone. And that’s what really makes it sad — that we can’t reach out and just be together in that.

The optimist in me will focus on the fact that the first half of the day was great.

All I will say is this.

It FIGURES that the second I have social plans that I actually accept and don’t ignore or avoid like the plague, I get to hear for three hours ALL ABOUT my Life Choices.

It’s the usual — working too many hours … doing my volunteer work, studying what happened in the markets for an hour-ish every night because I’m too busy during the day … being consumed by reality TV in the one hour of the day that I feel like I have to myself … picking the wrong men … being hurtful/disrespectful/just plain mean when I don’t give somebody any time or care about every precious word because I am overloaded.

Guilty on all counts.

I understand people are getting sicker by the minute and they are lonely and imprisoned in the house. They are not aware that I beg God every day to make their lives better and to bring the miracle of their healing. That all birthday wishes and most discretionary purchases are for them.

They have no idea all the times I thank God for the phenomenal cooking and the clean house and the emotional support that they can offer. That I know I am loved and that I am so lucky and I’d like to have that as long as I can.

I know it’s not enough but it’s all I can give right now.

And I will try very hard not to point out the obvious that their Life Choices have contributed to the here and now that crashes right into MY Life Choices.

I will *try* not to.

When it gets to this point, there is no “try” and I know it’s going to come out. With brute force.

I was just starting to enjoy my life a little more, too. Silly girl. Silly silly Goddess.

Yesterday: A date with my secret not-boyfriend. (Because, you gotta protect your alliances in this town.) And texting another of my boys most of the time. (Bad girl.)

Also yesterday: A small (very small) spark of hope on the “50 First Dates” front. I almost feel ready to make a plane reservation to get out of this town for two whole days … in two whole months. I don’t mind running the show from afar but I have issues with doing it the WHOLE TIME I’m gone.

And still also yesterday: I saw a live band and gave them a Facebook “like” during the set. Facebook showed me one other friend who likes them. I hadn’t thought of her in a while and made a mental note to give her a shout. Not two minutes later, I heard someone calling my name … and it was her! We had such a good time catching up.

I have to work this weekend because that was the only way to get out of the office at a reasonable hour. But it was worth it. So very worth it.

I have been loved by some truly amazing people.

Being habitually single isn’t so bad. I’ve been open and free to the universe’s gifts.

I’m w lucky girl indeed.

Undoing people’s interpretations of things is going to be the end of me.

Plus, OMG.

Fifty.

Dates…

Making sure to keep the filthy texts out of the text message conversation with the boss.

Of course, I’m pretty proud of my ability to carry on concurrent conversations … hope that stays true!