Greetings from Barbie

I haven’t meant to be standoffish, I’ve just been busy…and sore. I went kayaking for the first time ever this weekend—to say nothing of camping. More on that later, but a weekend without electricity should be a reasonable excuse for any of the lauralore.com readers as to my Saturday-Sunday absence, even that one who leaves disparaging comments.

Nick’s birthday was Sunday, and I wish I had been more energetic to really celebrate the day…make it really special, but Laura was pooped. It wasn’t until about 2:13PM today that I was actually able to make a fist…rowing is tough on the hands. Particularly rowing for 6-7 hours on your first-EVER kayaking expedition:

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It was a rough day today…and I’ve finally decided why, and it’s the silliest reason ever. Everything’s been reminding me of Mom…I’ve been fighting tears all day…little memories keep sneaking up on me and my heart absolutely aches. Today my gym membership expires. I will not be renewing, leastwise not in DeForest. I’ve been staying active out of doors…I need to be better about it, but still.

My Mom bought me six months of membership for Christmas last year…I think that’s what’s triggering it. It was a membership I started with Miles—I’ve grown tired of the questions inquiring after my husband—and renewed due to a holiday gift from a woman I cherished more than life itself. The place holds too many hard memories for me…walking zombie-like on the days immediately after Miles left…running to the point of near-faint the week that Mom died. It is those moments that inundate my thoughts when I swipe my card and the computerized voice chimes, “HAVE A GREAT WORKOUT!”

But really, my heart has been growing heavy for many days now, it isn’t just today. Sunday, returning from our trip, I told Nick that I’m afraid of my next move. I’ve had a complicated set of circumstances over the past several years…it’s been emotionally draining and my life veered long ago from the path I wanted it to take. Lennon had it right when he advised that life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.

I admitted my fear…now that some of my responsibilities have faded away, now that all of the groundwork I’ve labored so hard to lay is beginning to pave my way, what if I fail? What if I just can’t be who I want to be? Regret is beginning to take hold, and it is the most loathsome of all…I don’t believe in regret, and now I bathe in its murky depths.

My day curved up in silly’s grin when an individual told me at break that I was adorable and could totally pass for Barbie—in a non-plastic, anatomically correct way—and that they were so glad I was their coworker. Cheap that this perked my spirits? Probably. Do I care? Not really. You’ve gotta get your smiles where you can…some days they seem to be in limited reserves.

Keeping it on a Professional Plane

I was late in beginning my morning break’s exercise, a jaunt around the path surrounding the office…it’s around a mile. I dawdled, and found myself with just shy of ten minutes with which to complete the course. I elected instead to only follow the bordering sidewalks around the building.

As I rounded a corner, I heard Brenda’s voice upon the air…or rather her laugh—full-bodied and rolling. Electing to give her her space—I had not had a good morning…my stomach went on strike, delaying my readying process…I hit every possible red light…I was rushing and out of breath…I was a study in anxiety during my many excursions to Brenda’s desk…so much so that she muttered towards the end, “I don’t want to see you again.”

I got back to my desk several minutes before training resumed, and emailed my aunt to tease,

I think I heard your laugh just a bit ago as I circled the building.

It’s infectious.

Are you drunk?

😛

Chuckling to myself, knowing the level of propriety sought at this company, I sent the message…and had to refrain from snorting when her reply came quickly to set me straight:

Nope, we were talking about boobs!

Tennis

I had my first tennis lesson last night—and I loved it! Sure I’m graceless and have less coordination than a stick, but I’m among friends! I did suggest that our class begin a new form of the sport: air tennis. I argued that, especially for newbies, it was so much easier whacking at the air than a bouncy greenish ball.

I bet the instructor is considering the possibilities.

I was chasing my ball in the opening moments, and cried out, “Oooooh! It’s a running sport!” I usually stray from contact sports…because I have four limbs and have been armed with the ability to operate only two at any given time. Tennis will be interesting.

One of those days…

I haven’t been able to shake my headache or the dizziness all day. I finally got around to desecrating the sacred grounds of Brenda’s cubicle this morning, going through her drug-supply-drawer. She advised me yesterday that she had an assortment there…and also that she was re-stocking this weekend and to put my bid in for any requests now.

I got home and opened the medical bill that I specifically avoided opening yesterday…didn’t want the downer. Why I thought that headache-imbued Laura was more prepared today is beyond me, but the damage is done.

I received my work benefits PIN in the mail…immediately I logged in to set up my benefits plan. Lessons I’ve learned: no matter how bereaved you are at a cherished one’s passing, do not let others handle the details of your life…particularly your father who signs you up for a health insurance plan with a deductible I would value as a buck or two shy of the worth of my first born. Men don’t visit doctors unless a limb is slightly less than attached (a), I’m no man (b), I shouldn’t have let a man determine my coverage (c). This is what is commonly referred to as a “stupid move”.

And of all the coverages under which I could have been enrolled, it had to be that one when my stomach decided that food was the enemy.

So I’m set up now…and oh so glad that I won’t have to donate 90% of my plasma to pay for a wisdom tooth to be removed. While I was at it, I cancelled the other, booger-policy. The headache has been compounded with a hearty bout of nausea, and as I look to the turbulent clouds I wonder if tennis lessons are still on. I hope so. I need to relax.

A Weblog

You know, it’s a blessing-curse having a record of what you were doing at this time last year, at this time two years ago. You want to go back because some things seemed happier then…and at the same time you want to wipe the history from your books, electing instead to pretend it never existed at all. Experience can so effortlessly masquerade as Mistake. As the old saying goes, I wish I knew then what I know now. But, I feel good about where I am now…who I’m with and what I’m doing. Perhaps the pain I’ve paid has been well spent after all.