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Food for thought

Text messages from the edge

As I noted in my last post, it’s been a helluva week. Not all bad, definitely some good mixed in, but an absolutely stressful, crazy, whirlwind few days. Enough to send me, hyperventilating, into any available quiet space to center myself, even for a few minutes, so I could make it through another couple of hours.

Generally speaking, I am stoic punctuated by the occasional meltdown, and by the time I was halfway through today, I knew the meltdown was near. Even the Muzak in the grocery store seemed to echo my mood.

It was tempting to focus on the bad stuff — the lack of sleep, emotional exhaustion, tasks left undone despite my best efforts and intentions.

I could have harped on the chores Basil and Catherine not only left to me, but sat around and WATCHED me complete (popcorn anyone?); the jackass who hacked my email; the various idiots who cut me off on the road or the one who scratched my car; the broken toilet; burned meal; missed activities; aching feet; or the next batch of angst on the horizon.

Listening to an older lady across the aisle in the market gave me some perspective, however. As she pushed her cart away from the checkout line, she urged a friend to “Keep on keeping on.” She punctuated her guidance with a little fist pumping, which I found cute and endearing.

It was just the advice I needed to overhear. Right then and there, before I swiped the Amex, I decided to step away from the pity-party cliff and focus on the positive and fun moments from this crazy week, such as:

  • An unexpected kiss and vote of confidence I received on Thursday;
  • The kindness and excellent care from the Tully Center staff who went out of their way for Catherine;
  • The amazing review I got while being monitored at Jazzercise;
  • The New Train Smell (yup, just like in a new car) that enveloped my ride into New York this week;
  • The erudite fashion sense of fellow commuters: the bottle-blonde whose costume seemed to include all of her makeup options and every piece of jewelry she owns; the woman bouncing by in her sassy black fringe miniskirt that only partially covered her rear end; the older gentleman decked out in a pinstriped suit, white French cuffs held in place with silver turtles, and red tie and braces. (I couldn’t help but smile at him the whole way home.)
  • The whimsy of the fellow with the unicycle;
  • The delicious fruit smoothie that served as dinner last night;
  • The promise of a terrific get-together with friends this weekend.

Sometimes, my pledge to “live out loud” devolves into a primal scream. Not today.

About Terri S. Vanech

Wife, mother, communications specialist, Jazzercise instructor and recently reunited adoptee. I'm living out loud -- and trying to make it all work -- in midlife. Having a sense of humor sure helps.


2 thoughts on “Text messages from the edge

  1. What about all your lumberjack work?

    Posted by Bob | November 11, 2011, 5:13 pm

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