Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content.
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| Like The Queen Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content. |
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2 Comments:
Sweets,
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SO glad you're feeling less stressed, lovey!
By Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom] Saturday, June 25, 2005 One of the best things about getting past, oh, say, 40 or so, is the accumulation of mastery over one’s life. By the time one reaches the approximate half way point one has learned the routines well enough to keep functioning through almost anything life, other people, and the body can throw at you. At 40 you know exactly how long it takes to clean your house. You may choose not to clean it - but if something looms up on your personal horizon that demand a clean house you know to the minute when you have to begin with the vacuum. Once past the center point of your timeline, you have at least one good dress up outfit that you keep in the back of the closet for emergencies, be they coronations or executions. By 40 you know enough about your job to keep doing it even when all else crashes around you. You have also learned that, unlike the way the world ground to a halt when you were 10 and failed science for the 6-weeks, almost no errors in the adult world come with such dire or swift consequences. So long as you don’t actually commit crimes, it almost always turns out that the deadline was not so rigid, the project was not so crucial and the boss had been screwing up/goofing off/living under stress way more than you were and he never noticed that you were not the PerfectEmployeeOfTheMonth. Truly, if we must get grey hair, wrinkles, and gravity-obedient flesh as one ages, we can at least give thanks that we also get mastery. I was made deeply aware of this over the past week as the summer reading program at the library unfolded across the days, bringing hundreds of wee, and not so wee ones, into the building, with eager eyes, clutching their Funtastic Book Bags and ready to scrabble through the prize box for their reading rewards. The addition of an extra hundred or so library patrons to our normal day cranked up the ambient energy level among both staff and readers. The added excitement of a guest story teller performing at the end of the week had everybody in a party mood. Adult computer classes just made the mix richer, because nearly everyone who comes to those is in the senior citizen category; they’re the ones who didn’t have to learn about computers before they retired and now they have time and their kids bought them a computer for Christmas, but using it is just not part of their brain synapses. In short, it was a wildly busy week at the library, where they were still short staffed since I was out on Mon. and Wed. But it all went off, if not splendidly, at least adequately. As usual, in cases where I have been out of the building for 7 days of quality time with my angst, hormones and pain, my expectations were not high. In some ways it was as if I were a collateral witness and potential victim of whatever was going to happen. I couldn’t remember if I’d signed the contract with the entertainer (I hadn’t, but he came anyway. That was in the Heart Attack Undone Projects Pile on my desk) I didn’t remember that there was an 8 a.m. meeting yesterday, but they picked up the key anyway. I didn’t have time to make the prototype collage, but one of my middle school volunteers did and she had great fun with it. No matter what had to be done/ready/remembered - in at least a C+ fashion, it was. And long about 2:30 or 3 o’clock I could feel weeks and weeks of tension just lifting off my body, first from my shoulders, then the back of my neck and head, and then the whole body just began to lighten as the many pounds of worry floated off into the ether - to go land on some other poor unsuspecting soul - one hopes it will be another 40+ person who has the mastery of life needed to keep plugging on. It is someone else’s turn now. I’ve paid my tension dues. I am ready for summer. Ready to celebrate with friends over A’s successful operation. Ready to go see J and her TKN, who are the reason the Huguenot Road Barnes & Nobel has such a FanTabulous knitting section. Ready to spruce up my house enough to have company. Ready to read books sans guilt, start projects with no residual guilt about all those UFO’s laying about, go swimming with Capt. Jack. Ready for some fun. I have to work today - but even that is fun thing - for doing the Saturday shift always feels like getting paid for playing. I’d do it more, if BD didn’t complain so much. Unless I have an ice cream emergency or else am working, I never go into town on Saturdays, but since I am going today, I vow to take film in to be developed. I know there are some CJ photos and who knows - maybe even a knitting pic or two. Coda: Oh Law - I always start writing this post while I’m looking at the rest of the internet world so that I can get off the computer in something under 3 hours and get dressed for work. The last thing I look at before I post is the queen’s blog in case there are comments - which, today, there are. I ought to tell you first, instead of at the end, just how much I love comments - and how precious your words are. But if I waited till I’d read them to start writing I probably wouldn’t post at all. Of course, I could read the comments first instead of last - and often enough I put my responses at the beginning of the day’s post. Somehow, today I wanted to put it last. But I always put my affection and gratitude for your loving comments first - so just you remember that and feel good about yourself. You all know who you are. posted by Bess | 8:00 AM |
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