‘Ain’t we got fun’
You know, I don’t mind it as much when it’s my paying customers who cough, barf and snarf all over me, but when it’s the a-holes who think we are put on the planet for them to entertain, molest and/or listen to their life stories over and OVER again who do it whilst coughing all over me, I get a twee bit testy.
Otherwise, the meetings went great. It serves as a reminder of what our customers want and need, and it’s one of those times when all the corporate divisions mix and mingle, so everyone’s put their agendas down and we pull together as a team and bond as well as cooperate. It’s a glorious thing, one that I always hope will continue when we go back to the digital salt mines.
Anyway, clearly I’m home, I’ve got a bit of a cold and my feet are still swelled, with the left one still looking like something out of a Foo Fighters video. I had to buy Crocs in a size 10 to fit over it — my feet are an 8 1/2 on a good day — and they’re still tight. Le sigh.
I rolled in late Friday night to see my mom waiting at the door. I walked past her and went straight to my room for the next 24 hours. She was so excited to see me. And I burst straight into tears that this is my life, and welcome back to it. Last year, I admit I hoped for someone to come along to love me. I guess I should have been a lot more specific because this is SO not what I had in mind.
But I’ve always said 34 is going to be “my year.” And here I am, three months away from that so-called magical era, and I am not giving up on that dream. I spent a lot of time with myself this past week, and the thing is, I like the “me” who has gone into hibernation. I’m not overly fond of the current incarnation, though.
I mean, you can always break up with someone who isn’t meeting your needs or if you just don’t love them anymore, but how do you disassociate with family and self if they’re driving you bugshit nuts?
I know, there’s some lesson I need to learn in all of this. But why does every moment of life have to be some sort of teachable moment? Why can’t I go away and chaos not erupt, and why can’t I come back and not feel like I’m stepping into a bear trap and that I’m going to be dangling upside-down over an alligator pond with my foot ensconced in the metal jaws until I can figure out how to gnaw my way back to freedom?
In any event, I suppose it’s Lent. I’d like to give up on all the offers I’m getting from ProFlowers and Hallmark and 1-800-Flowers.com. Any girl who claims she isn’t into flowers is lying. I personally hate the smell of them because they remind me of funeral homes, but honestly? I abhor their absence even more. All this holiday does is serve to remind me that I’m not “there” yet and to stoke the fear that I may never be.
Funny, that. The girl who just wants some goddamned personal space really wouldn’t mind sharing it with someone after all. But how many more tests do I have to go through with situations I DO NOT WANT before I get to the ones I would possibly like very much?