Ever had a Thursday where you are so happy that the next day is Friday, then Friday comes and it's so incredibly busy but you think "at least it's Friday."
Then Saturday arrived and I was happy b/c I had a 90 minute massage at 11 and there were no words to describe just how badly I needed a good massage (in my case, I think I could've handled a jackhammer, but I settled for a human-generated deep tissue session).
So, it was Saturday--feeling great--sunny day.
But then I felt like I should go into work for "just a few minutes," just to make sure some arrangements were all in place. And I ended up being at work until almost 5 but allowed myself to foolishly hope that everything was under control and consoled my wasted day with, "at least I still have Sunday." Then Sunday morning came....and at 6:50am I heard my cell phone ringing in my purse that's hanging from a door knob in the dining room.....and I knew it was work....and I knew I should let it go....but I got up anyway....and the number was my general work number....but I knew who was probably calling....and I knew I could just go back to bed....but I called them back anyway.
That's when I realized that my week had officially continued on from Friday....at 6:50am this morning. When I tried to go back to bed my brain was in overdrive brainstorming about solutions for their problem, so I called back with a few more suggestions. Rob and I got up at 7:30 b/c I was completely awake. It's our 2 year anniversary (and 1 month engagement anniversary) so we decided to go to breakfast. I purposefully left both phones at home and we rode our bikes to Mallery Street Cafe. We decided over breakfast that today we would get a Christmas tree. The day was improving.
Home, there were two messages on my work cell. I didn't even listen to them b/c I knew who was calling and could guess what they were saying/pleading--frantic contract-nurse at work who was trying to deal with a complete and total lunatic of a 59 year old woman who thinks the entire world should bow to her every demand a few seconds before shes even thought about them...and if you think you've met someone like this (because until today, I really did think I knew one or two, or had at least seen versions of such a specimen on TV/Film) you should meet Mrs J and she will blow your mind. I don't even care about the slight HIPPA violation with that first initial drop there. That's how much I don't care about this psychotic paranoid schizophrenic histrionic manic depressive woman who somehow during the week apparently operates normally in her affluent golfing community. Of course now we all know that her "normal" is waaaaaaay beyond what any of us would describe it as...even within the excessively broad parameters of an already ambiguous descriptive.
And I am doing the best that I can
Midway through phone conversations with the nurse, I text my boss. She and I go back and forth for a few minutes and then the nurse calls back with the latest report (the reports were about 15mins apart...and by report I mean the next completely insane demand that had spurted out of crazy ladys oral cavity that even a registered nurse couldn't figure out). My last text to my boss was "my goal is to get her to discharge home before she consumes my entire weekend...she had a knee replacement by a renowned MD, not a bionic brain transplant by an intern." The next call from the nurse was that Crazyfool wanted to talk to my boss. HAHAHAHA. Now THAT was when I started smiling. Oh yes, gladly. So I called my boss and asked her to call the unit. And my phone as been silent ever since. Ahhhh.
Well, I tried to tell Crazyfool....but some people don't believe me when I say things. Some people think I'm just saying words to fill space. Some people think I'm just saying things based on my mood at the time. The truth is, when I say it, 99.9% of the time I really and truly mean it. And at some point, I will stop caring and I will stop trying--and it will feel good when I finally allow that burden to fall easily off my shoulders.
And hopefully along the way that person/situation didn't push me into the zone I rarely enter...the SURZ -- the Spent-Up Rachel Zone....cause that jest ain't no place to find yerself caught up in. Yesterday, I think I might have gotten toe-deep in the SURZ....but I somehow rallied myself back into neutral. I really don't like going into the SURZ.
So anyway, just to get any other undesirables out of the way, I balanced my bank account--which has really become a more and more humorous concept as I've gotten older and the years speed faster and faster by me.
And now, I am going to find us a nice Christmas tree.
And when Rob gets home from work we're going to open a bottle of champagne. And decorate that tree. And listen to Christmas music. And feel happy. Because guess what....tomorrow is Monday. And life is short.
Except this one mattered and I felt it had a spirit
And I shot the story cause I didn't hear it that way
