Seriously

Why is it that when my life comes together, everyone else I know falls apart?

To my friends: Ya'all need to get into therapy. Intense, serious therapy.

Seriously.

I now return you to your regularly scheduled lives.

Never a Dull Moment

Apologies for the lack of postage. I have been exhausted. Getting up before the sun to get a workout in and so very much to do at the new job that I've been staying late. And the later I stay, the harder it is to catch a train home.

Didn't help that last night - while suffering through a bout of Sunday night insomnia - my neighbors decided they were going to have a raging beer party. So raging, in fact, that I actually got up, put on a robe, and went over to ask them to turn down the music. Oh yea, did I mention they're both dads in their 40's?

So, of course I was exhausted today. And completely unprepared to deal with the fact that one of the Directors - the one I really liked when I was interviewing - is resigning. I can't fault her at all - she's leaving to take care of her parents who are older and in declining health. But it definitely means more uncertainty and instability in the department.

And - with uncertainty comes manic boss mania.

Actually, to give her her due, today she was pretty together. But I can't wait to see what the end of the week holds.

It's not lost on me, by the way, that this week is September 11, the anniversary of my split with Mr. Zips and - OH YEAH - I'll be in NYC on business. Irony, much, oh ye Universe?

I'm sure additional stories will ensue. After all, we've got a train ride down together and a train ride back together. Because we're cousins, identical cousins and you'll find....

Panic

Last night, I had dinner with my team from the Taproot Foundation, a nonprofit I'm working with. Many of us are in various stages of experiencing or recovering from major life issues, so the conversation was lively. Thus, I missed the 8 p.m. train. Which meant I had to take the 9:30. Which resulted in me finally putting head to pillows around 11:30 pm.

So you can imagine how pleasant a person I was when the alarm went off at 4:57 a.m.

Imagine the surprise, panic and concern that arose when I staggered downstairs to find a text message from Good Buddy.

"This is stupid, but if you're up before 8 I need wakeup call. Seriously."

Now, if you know of GoodBuddy, you know he's not one to (ahem) shall we say, live an ascetic lifestyle. He's kinda prone to excess.

So my (albeit overly tired) writer's imagination was running wild. What kind of mess had he got himself into that he was going to need me to wake him up? In what state could he have gone to bed that he couldn't rely on his own faculties? Would I have to call the paramedics? The police? The morgue?

Turns out he couldn't find his alarm clock.

Could he not have mentioned that wee little fact in his text?

I need more coffee.

Losers' Club Takes a Train Ride

So, Sunday night, I did the 'ole tossing and turning thing. I'm not exactly sure why - I never am. It's always the nights I think I'm gonna sleep like a log that I wind up Wide Awake Wilson.

Despite getting a grand total of about three hours' rest, when the alarm went off at 5 a.m., I groaned my body out of bed and put on my sneakers. I'd wanted to go for a long walk along by beautiful back shore the night before but hadn't gotten around to it. So, I decided I'd do the 5-miles as my morning jog. And you know me, once I set my mind to something...

Of course, as the day wore on, my eyes got heavier and heavier, my brain foggier and foggier. By quittin' time, I felt like I had cotton between my ears. But, alas, I had my iPod on hand - with lots of uplifting and bouncy tunes, so I knew I'd survive the trip home.

I made it onto the subway, off the subway, into the train station. I grabbed a bottle of water, located the track my train was on and boarded the train. I leaned my head against the cool glass of the window, closed my eyes and let Krishha Das lull me to sleep. Almost to sleep anyway.

About 30 minutes into the trip, I thought I heard the conductor say, "Next stop, Wyoming." Wyoming? Wow, I must be having a CRAZY dream. I'm not in Wyoming.

But I was.

You see, Wyoming is a stop on the Haverhill line. The HAVERHILL train line. Which heads WEST. Not North, which is where the GLOUCESTER line heads. Look at a map. Put your finger on Boston. Now draw a really wide V. That's the distance between where I got off the train and where my car/home was.

Well, it cost me $120 for the taxi. And it took me an extra 45 minutes. But I got home safe and sound. And by nine o'clock, I was passed out cold in my very own bed.

Tonight, I asked not one, but TWO, train attendants if the train was the Rockport/Gloucester line. And then I asked the woman sitting next to me. She probably thought I was crazy. I really don't care.

So, THAT's what they mean by CRAZY

My new boss is insane. Now, don't get me wrong, she's a wicked nice human being. She's sweet, kind, smart and she's pretty funny to boot. But she's CAH RAY ZEE.

Thursday morning, I had a beautiful commute. I hopped on the 8:02 express train, settled in and a short 57 minutes later I was walking into my office. One look at my watch showed 9:00. Ding ding ding. I powered on my computer, set my bag down, picked up my phone to quickly place an order for flowers for my parents' anniversary. In comes bosslady (moniker TBD), all a flutter.

"You have a nine o'clock!"

"I didn't have one on my calendar. I'm pretty sure I only have an 11 today."

"A reminder for a nine o'clock came up on my calendar!"

I look at her. "Well, I don't know who I'm supposed to be meeting with. I don't think I have one until Joseph at 11. I checked." To the phone. "I'm sorry I'll have to call you back."

At this point, she's rushed out of my office, across the hall, to her office. She's frantically checking her email. I stick my head into her office. "Do you know who it's supposed to be with? I really don't have anything on my planner or my Outlook calendar...."

She looks up sheepishly. "I guess I never dismissed the reminder for your meeting yesterday at nine with Mark. Sorry."

Yea, um, sure. Tell that to my racing heart and pounding adrenaline.

So, yea. She's kind of high strung. I've had IT guys, facilities folk and finance peeps all wishing me good luck. And they don't even really know her either.

I realize (from years of therapy, yoga, self-help books and good ole-fashioned insight) that a lot of her erratic behavior comes from insecurity and the overt need for approval. But still! It's gonna take a lot for me to maintain my composer in the light of her high-strung, nervous energy.

Of course, since I got a lot of sleep last night and I did a lot of yoga today, I can make the statement that I can deal with her behavior rationally and respond not react and use it all as fodder for my great novel. But the reality is more likely that she's gonna drive me bonkers.

Stay tuned, dear readers. This might just get interesting...