My Own Pace

Today has been a bit of a hilly route to the end of the waking hour.  I went to sleep last night a bit bent out of shape about a situation and I’d be fibbing if I said it didn’t cause me to wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.  My coworkers were very lucky I didn’t start every conversation with “OKAY I KNOW WHERE YOU’RE GOING WITH THIS JUST LEAVE ME ALONE AND COME BACK TOMORROW”.

Actually, maybe I’m lucky I didn’t go there.  I’d hate to think about that conversation with my boss later this week once he received wind that I was screaming at everyone (and GOD, what if he was the one receiving the shriek?).  I shudder to think!

Let’s back up to November of 1980 when my mom pushed a beautiful, brown eyed, strong headed and perhaps slightly sensitive girl into the world.  Yup, that’s me.  To be fair, I was the baby by 10 years so many of my growing up years were spent living like an only child if not the smallest child and I wasn’t picked on and I didn’t have to defend a decision or my position on something.  I grew up making a decision and getting support for it.  A few times my mom questioned my direction or forced me to do something I swore I didn’t want to do (band, for example – funny thing is, I ended up majoring in music so you know, moms do know best) or even flat out asking if I was sure I knew what I was getting into (signing up to sell Mary Kay Cosmetics comes to mind in that case).  My dad never questioned me… probably the result of only getting to see me every other weekend or during major life events (piano lessons, band concerts, award ceremonies).

I grew up making the right decisions.  At least, in my head I think that.  There have been some that weren’t the BEST decision but all have lead me to the right place in the end.

That’s where my rotten day comes in.

I’ve recently taken an interest in wanting to learn how to play the ukulele.  There really is no reason to it, just kind of want to.  I received a gift card for my birthday and I thought buying a ukulele would be fun.  They don’t cost much.  It’s really no different than blowing a gift card on a new bottle of perfume or a pair of shoes you don’t really need.  It’s birthday money, KNOCK YOURSELF OUT, HONEY!

I announced my grand plan on Facebook last night because where else to you make these important announcements?

What happened is surely the result of some strange polar reversal or whatever you call that.  The one person who almost always publicly questions my almost everything was in full support of me wanting to try this out and that was about it.  Other people poked a bit of fun (I know, friendly fun, but I’m getting to it) and my sweet boy was confused as to where this came from.  No one said I shouldn’t learn, no one said I was crazy, but no one really jumped in and supported this decision.

That was absolutely the most alone I’ve felt in ages.  I went to bed with a lump in my throat trying not to cry.  Why did I react like that?  I’ve faced worse rejection before (if only I blogged in August of 1999 when I didn’t make the Longhorn Band my first year of college – geez, emotional much?).  In fact, despite my saying above that I am completely used to full support, I face rejection quite often.  It’s almost daily at work (I have some STRONG personalities on my team, I’ll leave it at that).  Also, I didn’t blog about it, but any one remember when I interviewed and interviewed and interviewed for the same company and after 5 conversations/interviews/meetings with them they still didn’t hire me?  See, completely used to rejection.

And don’t get me started about the time my dear brother went one and one for what seemed like an hour (probably just 5 minutes) about how terrible Dave Matthews Band was.  UGH.  I’ll never forget that conversation that took place in a restaurant in Philadelphia in 2000.  Scarred for life.  Seriously.

So why did last night leave me so sad?

I wanted to call my mom.  She isn’t there to call.  I think she is the one who would go buy a ukulele if she darn well pleased no matter who said what.  I would tell her of my idea and she would want to hear my first song.

But she just isn’t there to call.  I also feel like talking to air doesn’t get the message to her.  I used to feel that way, but not anymore.

I went through today longing to talk to her.  But still, she’s not there.

This will wear off… hopefully before I actually yell at someone to leave me alone tomorrow.  It always does.  This one just got blogged about whereas the others come and go and life goes on.

Today made me stop in my tracks.  I’ve been going and going and going on this Apartment Therapy January Cure.  If i missed a day for any reason, I picked up and did double duty the next day or switched days to something more manageable.  I have been completing these tasks like my life depended on it.  Was I overly distraught today because I’m emotionally tired?  I’ve been cleaning, organizing, rearranging, cleaning some more, moving things here, moving things there, but I haven’t really stopped and taken a break since this started on January 2.  I’m also missing the sweet boy like crazy (his work schedule is what it is but I wish it wasn’t).

I need a break!

So tonight I took one.  I haven’t read today’s January Cure task email (and haven’t gone to the Apartment Therapy site today for fear I’ll see the task) so I’m not even stressing that I’m not doing whatever I should be doing.  I took a beautiful run after work (with scenery like above, it’s hard not to enjoy it).  I’m enjoying my very clean and organized pantry (one of last week’s tasks) and cooking gourmet food for one.  Now I’m sitting in my PJs on my couch.

Doing nothing but writing and browsing Pinterest for recipes I love to pin but will never make.

Tomorrow is another day.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s