words
“Words never say what you want them to…” Ari lamented. Over the last few days, I’ve been his sounding board, personal therapist, sister-type-person, as he’s gone pretty much full cycle with his girlfriend. An argument, a slammed phone, great geographic distance preventing a conversation -or even a screaming match- and he was stuck here. With me. And as it turns out, that wasn’t such a horrible thing.
From Sunday evening until last night, it was up and down. Never once did I say, “Break up! I’ll find you someone new!” Supportive, that’s my way. (Usually.) And she’s back in town, they made up, all’s well.
He called me at 8:20 this morning, just as I was getting out of the delicious purple PTC, and had the full report. Naturally, today was walking with La Gordita day, so I had my walking clothes in a bag, plus we were celebrating Zan’s birthday, so there was a cake and then M. had made cold cucumber soup which I’d promised to half the damn campus (um, 2 other people), so I had all this STUFF to carry.
Now I can look back at parts of my life and say, “ooh, bad choice there,” but except for a few (hundred) falls up (and down) staircases in (and around) Washington, DC, having been a bartender has continued to serve me well, even today. What the hell am I talking about, you ask? Well, I was able to carry all that stuff, use the key-bleeper thingy to lock the car, carry my water bottle (a 32-ouncer, personal rule to drink the whole thing on the way to work or no coffee!) AND talk to Ari on the phone. Gym bag, cake bag, bag o’ soup (lunky because of the ice thing), water bottle and of course my handbag. (A delightful lovely summertime statement in a tan weave with faux brown croc trim.) And the phone.
Am I making too big a deal of it? Of course. Am I doing it on purpose? Nope. I was up late doing some network repairs here at home (aah, cute but techie, too!), but had to still have my night time shower (nothin like it I tell you) and then was awakened by the cat you see below (Frieda Tomatilla A-H) who decided that batting my sleeping face with her mouse-head toy at 3am was a good idea. So now I’m drowsy but I don’t wanna go to bed yet. StOOpid, I know. Blame it on the moon.
And what the hell does that mean? Nothing, but it proves (perhaps) what Ari said just yesterday: Words never say what you want them to.