Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Howling at the moon - 3/19/06

I'm beat. I'm old and I can't go out four nights in a row anymore. I didn't exactly go into this week at full strength, after a pleasant romp outside my rut resulted in a lack of sleep last weekend, but I found myself dressed and picking up the youngest from his Little League Umpire duties at ninish on Wednesday night, so decided to hop by my favorite neighborhood spot for a beer with friends after dropping him off. When I walked in the place, the first words I heard were, "Hi, Sophmom!" Not my real name, but specifically, Sophmom. It felt really strange, but not unpleasantly so. Thursday night I resolved to stay in and at sevenish was hunkered down in sweat pants ready to watch UNCW vs. George Washington, having turned down an invitation to join a group of baseball buddies at the new Taco Mac in Dunwoody, when I realized I was going to have to watch the LSU game, this being SEC country, so up I went, dressed and headed out once again, this time to watch basketball I couldn't see any other way. It would have been worth it had my team won instead of lost, in overtime. The good news is that I picked up a great utility player for my spring baseball team. He was waiting tables at Taco Mac. So Friday night, I resolved to stay home, until my best friend called and really, really wanted me to meet her for a bite and a beer and to talk about the week and I couldn't make myself say, "No!" even though I knew we had to go out Saturday for an absentee birthday party (you know, the kind where the guest of honor is far away but we all take pictures with her cut-out to send to her next week, for her birthday).

Now, all of this on the heels of last weekend's howling at the moon and I am whooped. Beat. Tired. I was definitely more rested in my rut. It almost takes a rut to run the marathon and I haven't had any time off in a long time. The last time I went out of town was a year ago, when I took my last trip to New Orleans, for Loyola's Family Weekend (NOLAG), which happened to also be St. Patrick's Day weekend (or at least when they were having the Uptown parade). In addition, the atmosphere at work continues to be stress-inducing, so I'm feeling thin (spiritually, not physically), kind of fragile and needing something to change 'cause this is wearing me flat out. I believe in vacations. I think they recharge us and make us more productive when we return. I didn't exactly come into this last year pampered and rested. I need one. Now.

In addition, The Husband... has been visiting for the weekend, after setting himself up with meetings in town for Friday and Monday and needing a place to stay. It's okay. I think he's lonely up at the lake and I know he wanted to see friends and the youngest and to just get away for a while (not to mention, eat my cooking). He bunks with the boy and helps with the old, blind dog and taking out the trash and stuff. Sometimes it can be nice to see him but not this time. This time it just feels weird and I really hope that something he's doing will hurry up and bring in a little income so we can find him a place of his own in the city. The strangest thing in this whole separation is that we never mention anything personal, ever. We haven't spoken one word about our relationship, or the status thereof, since we stopped living together sixteen months ago. I'd like to but he will not and that's really strange to me.

So I'm crawling up this Sunday afternoon, gonna do laundry and go make some pretty color prints of a PowerPoint The Husband... needs for tomorrow then head out to the ballpark in the chilly dirzzle in case any of my players show up for try-outs. One might, maybe two. Plus, it'll give me a chance to see the four fifteen year olds I added in the course of finding a field coach for the season (another by-product of the Thursday night trip to Taco Mac, although not randomly so, as it was what I was invited there to talk about). I might have to pick the youngest up from work at 7:30 but he can bring me yummy collards and slaw and mac and cheese and we will have a fire by then and this time I promise to go to bed early, committed to resting more and playing less, this week.

I hope you all have a great one, and that your basketball brackets hold winners. I promise I'll catch up visiting, soon.

Peace. Out.

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