Tomorrow. Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, I'm off to Kripalu for a wonderful Todd Norian yoga workshop. At least, I hope it's wonderful. I assume it will be. I have no reason to expect it won't be.

It will be four days of yoga, meditation, simple vegetarian meals (KALE!), chanting, and all around healthy activities. Not to mention it will be Blackberry free.

So I should be really -- REALLY -- looking forward to it. And I am. Mostly.

I'm also a little nervous.

This trip feels to me like a complete immersion in spiritual healthiness. For someone who, maybe, not so much, has lately been engaging in unhealthiness. What is it going to be like going cold turkey on all my coping strategies?

Also, I will show up knowing no one, having to live in a room with people I don't know, share meals with total strangers and, oh yea, try to fall asleep without aid of ... anything but exhaustion.

So, I am very excited. I will be free to get some serious grounding on. Center myself. Reconnect with what is REALLY important. (hint: it's not work.) But I'm also a little nervous. Will I be different at the end of the weekend? Or will this simply be a respite from decadence?

I am refusing to bring cellphone, blackberry or computer with me so I'll let you know next week how it all goes down.

I have hope and faith that I will be better for the experience. Om Shanti. Om Shanti. Om Shanti. Om.

Adventures in Traveling

So, as we all know, I've been travelling for business a lot more than I would like. In fact, as opposed to the "10% travel" I committed to when I got the job, it's really been more like "35%."

Which is sucky in a number of ways. I buy a pass every month for the Commuter Rail. This costs me $235. That is a hefty chunk of change. On the months where I will only be in the office less than two weeks, I'm easily losing money. Add to that the $59/month I pay for gym membership fees and the cat sitter costs and, well...

Then, of course, there's the fact that every time I get home I need a day or two to return to normal. Do some laundry. Re0rganize the beauty products (I use the term losely) and - of course - make the kitties understand that Momma Loves Them.

This isn't aided by the fact that recently I've had back-to-back trips. And that, this month, my boss (CBL) has conveniently scheduled our team's love fest for the day AFTER I get back from my yoga retreat.

Not to mention the fact that EVERY SINGLE trip I've been on has been beset by massive airline and/or weather and/or equipment delays.

And, of course, I haven't helped myself at all by insisting that Good Buddy pick me up at the airport tonight.

Because, as exhausted as all this travelling has made me, staying up all night talking with him is probably the last thing I need, right?

OK - let's scratch that. Staying up and talking with him and not fighting would have been great. Staying up with him and having intense discussions (what he calls fighting) would have been good. Staying up with him and then him leaving in the middle of the night, leaving me to stay up and pace the floor worrying, is less than good. Now, I'm equally as tired and just have nothing at all to show for it.

Of course, I hope he's okay and that everything resolves itself. But I could have just as easily stayed in Calgary and visited Banff for a taste of the infinite majesty of nature or eaten a really good Vietnamese meal. Or, heck, even hit on the cute bartender at the hotel bar again.

I guess, with travelling, you just never know...

Just Noticing

"When I was young ..."
I was desperate for connection and intimacy and would grasp desperately at anything that seemed to offer that. To the point of constant calls and emailing, nonstop voicemail leaving, verging on the stalking.

Hey, I was young.

"Now that I'm older..."
I see the mistakes of my youth and I will walk away from a relationship when it no longer serves my higher purpose. This may be a difficult - even painful - decision, but I know that, in the end, that which makes me healthier will ultimately make me happier. After all, absence makes the heart grow fonder. Right?

So, I'm wondering, how does one express this lesson to a CBL who, maybe (and I'm just speculating here) doesn't really understand that forcing people to spend time together and bond and play LaserTag together (I kid you not) does not necessarily mean that the love will increase. Especially if they've just spent two full weeks together in Florida and London. It's just that, if you try to force it, the love usually tends to do just the opposite.

I'm just sayin'.

As a PS - It's a little ironic that my relationship with GoodBuddy is teaching me this very lesson even as I have assaulted him that our relationship is no longer about the lessons he can teach me. GB, I admit it, if you're reading this, you still know one or two things I can learn. And, well, there's still a few clean pair of socks here if you want them.

Just Wondering ...

If this is what a nervous breakdown feels like?

CBL was in town all last week. I was in the office every day. She needs me there, you see. We spent the whole week together.

Then we had a 90 minute phonecall today. Half of it she spent telling me that I need to get our (read my, although technically it should be "her") planning done by Thursday am. Another portion of it was spent listening to her bitch about various and sundry co-workers. Yet another portion was spent listening to her plan and think out loud and provide validation and affirmation of how brilliant and wise she is.

OK, maybe I exaggerate a tad. But not much. One day, I will tape these phonecalls.

So, as she noted, I have a lot of planning to do. I'm not actually supposed to be doing this planning. It's technically not in my job description. But CBL has admitted that she's "numerically an idiot." Those are her words, btw. So, I have planning to do. Not that I really mind. Although it's my least favorite part of the job, it does make me more indispensible and, frankly, people know where the documentation is coming from. Still, I do have a life to lead...

After we hung up, at 2:15 pm, I proceeded to get -- I kid you not -- 47 emails from her. A bunch of these were about her travel options for a meeting we have scheduled in March in New York. Some of them were asking me my thoughts on queuing up more press releases (we have 6 in the hopper). And the remainder were asking me to resend her documents that I've already sent and posted on our Sharepoint site.

Finally, in exasperation, I sent her an email. "I really need to hunker down and get this planning done. So tomorrow I'm going to go offline for most of the day and just crank through it. Cool?"

This was the response.

"Of course. That's your number one priorty. Unless of course you get an email about SalesLogix or our presentation or the pipeline reports."

Wow.

That was 25 emails ago.

It's 10:15 at night. I just finally shut my VPN down.

If there is a story in The Globe tomorrow about a crazy, naked woman jumping off the Annisquam Bridge into the icy waters below, you heard it here first, kids. Nervous breakdown.

The Way to a Man's Heart?

When you work in a small company or on a small team, there are bound to be tensions. Conflicts. We can't all always get along. And, while I try very hard to be optimistic and positive, sometimes people just rub me the wrong way.

One of the lovely gentlemen I work with is a total and complete PrimaDonna. He thinks he's the smartest guy alive because he has a PhD. (He's not.) He only eats fish and vegetables and talks about fat grams and carbs like he's a chick. He also thinks I am his servant and secretary. And I've just about had it.

It got bad in London because he is laboring under the impression that I am CBL's "favorite." He is NOT her favorite. And, while I agree that it is problematic that CBL thinks we are such GalPals, there's really not a whole lot I can do about it. The first day in the city, I invited him to come out to lunch with a group of us. He declined, saying he was getting email harassed by CBL (shocking, I know) and had to get some work done. But could I bring him back a salad?

I should stop right here and say - I should have responded immediately with "Get your own damn salad," but I did not. I said sure.

Alas, as we have seen, in England, salad contains mayonnaise. You got egg salad, you got potato salad, you have "salad" which equals coleslaw and that's about it. I know that PrimaDonna would not even consider consuming something with so many fat grams, so I passed on the salad options. PrimaDonna got no salad.

I heard about this for - I kid you not - four hours that night as we went out for "teambuilding drinks." Once, ha ha. Twice, okay. By the fifth time he'd brought it up, I told him it was no longer funny and to get over himself. I don't think it was until I told him I was going to beat the living daylights out of him if he didn't shut it that he actually understood I had had enough. I don't recommend threatening one's co-workers with physical violence but, hey, a girl's gotta do....

Of course, he gets to pick the restaurant for our next big "love fest" in February. He thought he'd be clever. He picked Lucilles BBQ. Told me I'd be fine as they served fried okra. Very nice.

I, of course, responded by saying that they could enjoy dinner without me, as my last attempt at BBQ made me violently ill. To which response, CBL publicly scolded him for even suggesting they "force a vegetarian to be in that situation."

Oh, Mr. PrimaDonna. Do not try to beat a smart, sassy blonde at the game of life. It will not be pretty and you will not win.