Do You Have DInner Plans?

It seems an innocent enough question. An innocuous enouugh question. But there are so many ways to answer it. What it right? What is wrong? What is technically fine but actually harmfully in many many ways?

Today was the culmination of a months-long project wherein we have been gathering testimonial videos of many people regarding my product. I was responsible for every aspect of the project - securing the video production company, confirming the interviews, crafting the scripts, scheduling the events, and - the most painful of all - "wrangling" the talent.

It would be a tough enough project as is, outlined above. Add to that we were interviewing my boss, my boss's boss, our CEO, our partner company CEO, and several major big wigs from overseas. So, yea, I've been a bit nervous.

Given the amount of work I've had in the last couple of weeks and given the amount of "grunt work" I have to do on any given basis and given the fact that beyond all of that I am trying to manage the anxiety of this project, well, I've been a bit of a mess......

Last night - not surprisingly - despite going to bed nice and early and nice and relaxed, I had a fair amount of nightmares. I didn't get a massive amount of sleep. I didn't get a good night's rest. So when the alarm went off at 4 am, I was a wee bit groggy.

Tonight, after all of this, CBL offered to take me out for a "casual" dinner. Now, maybe she was genuinely trying to be nice. Maybe she just worried about making me eat alone. But, really, after all this stress, worry and distress, the last thing I wanted to do at 8 pm was hang out with CBL. Not that she isn't a nice person. It's just that ...

I'm sure you see where I'm going with this. It's what Therapist calls my "serving my essential needs." I tend to give precendence to what CBL needs (hanging out with me for dinner) with what I need (R&R). Of course, the tough thing is that, if I lie, I can't exactly expense the dinner.

So, here's me. Rock (expense report) / Hard place (hang out with CBL). It really sucks that she has this much control over my life. I know, cry me a river. Story of my life. Yadda yadda.

CBL - Another Example

It's about five hours past my bedtime. Still....

I was all fired up when I got home. Positive social interaction and all that...

Then, I made the mistake of checking my Blackberry.

People want to know why I call her CBL. To whit. I sent my last email at 6:10 tonight. Nothing very major or pressing.

At 11:45, I had 27 new emails.

I have a conference call with her at 8 am. What couldn't possibly wait 9 hours?

"I had an adrenaline rush. It's very common. You can Google it."

Anonymity and Personality

Tonight, I went to a meeting for fellow CapeAnn Bloggers. It was begun by Capt. Joe and seems to be a great way for fellow writers and artists to reach out and meet one another. What struck me most about tonight's event is how, despite my amazing and seemingly innate love for this place, I do not truly belong here nor will I will for what I am sure is a long time. Gloucester has a long and deep history that is way beyond how gorgeous the sunrise looks from the backshore or the current political landscape. The town's history runs through bloods and bones, through stories and generations.

That being said, I had a really great time. I am sure I drank too much at the Cape Ann Brew Pub but the beer was very, very yummy. And it was great to chat with others who are involved with writing and the arts and exchanging thoughts and idea.

At one point, someone asked me, "If you're not creating, do you feel like you're dying?"

WOW.

Yeah. I mean, yes. Yes, I do. Of course I do.

The thing is, sometimes, I'm too tired to realize that. Sometimes I am too focused on shipping boxes or faxing forms or filling out budget accruals to realize that I want/need/have to be creative. In some way shape or form.

What I guess I'm thankful for, is that there are others out there who share that need. That passion. Because when you're not being creative - and you feel that closeness to souldeath - you can feel like you're going insane.

But you're not. You're just drying up. Dessication.

I am glad I skipped the gym. I am glad I slathered on the makeup. I am glad Capt. Joey started the group. I'm glad I moved to Gloucester.

When the alarm goes off in exactly four hours, I might rethink all of this. But for now.

Tomorrow, folks, I promise, a more entertaining, amusing post. Or, back to the regularly scheduled programming. Cross my heart.

Breakthrough

Only two weeks ago I was feeling like there was just absolutely nothing in my life to look forward to. I spend Saturdays and Sundays feeling lonely and then feeling like I have a million things to do to get ready for the draining a demoralizing week ahead. You can imagine that I wasn't happy in my existence.

And, while not all that much has ACTUALLY changed, I am doing my best to shift my outlook. Do my daily affirmations. Look for and find the positive.


Last weekend I had a lovely day with the ladies hanging out in Salem. We enjoyed the sunshine, the atmosphere, the amazing beverages at Jaho Coffee. They have some amazing artists on staff there. Witness:



But most importantly, the day out confirmed for me the things in this world that make me happy. Honest discourse. Reliance on Mother Earth for health and happiness. The belief that energy and attitude is what truly makes existence worthwhile.

And, sure enough, I had some amazing releases in yoga classes this week. I may have actually met someone. I might have made some friends. I've set myself up with a budget that, while restrictive, can provide me boundaries within which I can find true expression (that's a yoga thing...). And most importantly, I've discovered a new way to begin living on a day to day basis.

No, not all is happiness and light. Not all is fuzzy bunnies and fluffy lambies. But for the first time in a long time, I see the horizon of light and it looks like hope.

Namaste.

If this were a short story, it would be funny, poignant...

So, last Saturday, I dropped the car off at the service repair shop. I convinced a dear friend to pick me up at the shop and take me out for the day. All of this happened before 9 am. ON A SATURDAY.

I dropped the car off. I left the shop. I got to a coffee shop. My phone rang.

They had the wrong color replacement mirror.

I bitched and moaned and shrieked and wailed. And, at the end of the day, I wound up shuffling around my schedule to get back to the shop. I gave up my work from home day and made it a work from the car shop day.

Which was today.

An hour and a half into my waiting time, I felt a tap on my shoulder. "Um, Miss Miller?"

This time, they'd ordered the wrong size.

What was miraculous about all of this: I did NOT flip out. I did NOT scream. I did NOT get mad. I DID laugh. A lot. Out loud.

What are you going to do? They didn't have the mirror. I couldn't make them have the mirror. The woman who was helping me was not at fault. And she was cute. And she caught my dropped hint that this weekend was Pride Weekend in Boston. (Ding ding ding ding). This now means I will be forced (ha!) to not go into the office for either a morning or a day. And, of course, it means that they're going to eat the labor costs.

So, every cloud, silver lining, yadda yadda yadda. It still means I have to spend ANOTHER day in the waiting room of a car service shop. Fun.