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9:40 a.m. - 2005-11-07
E is for ennui
It could be spring for all I know - it is warm, damp and a bit breezy, and has been all weekend, but my heart is still seeing the world through winter-colored glasses at the moment. I slap myself verbally every now and then. I have no right to complain. I KNEW when I took this job that it could turn out this way. I even knew the date since it was spelled out in my hiring letter last June. But then I was hopeful about how things would turn out. I KNOW I have a wonderful family, a roof over my head, health, friends and more than my basic needs taken care of.

But it feels like there are so many decisions made about my life that I have no say in. I feel like I am a member of the club of those who have to pay for those decisions. I own my decisions, including the one to go for this job despite knowing that it could end next month. That was my choice. NOT having a say in how things happened is what makes me crazy.

Friday, I ended up having to stay late because the provost and president wanted a summary letter from our exec. director, about what had happened that day and why; and though I did not have all the information, I saw that the person who had to do it was faltering, so I offered to help. And she saw how good I am at my job when I am allowed to do it.

So I finally got home Friday night and we went out to eat Mexican food, but had to wait 45 minutes for a table, and the people who were joining us were a half-hour late anyway and didn't bother to call, even though they have our cell numbers. But I am not being pissy or anything. Right?

So we had a hurried dinner while the other family let their kids run around and bump into waiters. (Note to self: Dine alone next time...) and I was worried that they would get hurt.

And we took the middle daughter home and she had a sleepover with Andy, which was the plan all along. We got home, jammified and watched half of Monsters Inc. in our big fluffy bed; and then we read stories and tucked them in and the were so tired because they were up late and the slept until 5:30 a.m.! Which actually was fine, because I couldn't sleep that night, so we got up and made cinnamon toast and watched the rest of the movie and then made eggs and forts and treasure maps. More errands Saturday, then a craft fair where I found two small holiday gifts; church and grown-ups night. Sunday we got to sleep in - until 7:30! (Note to self: watch for bedsores.) My father called early to say he had heard from my mother that she was back from her cruise and was heading to my sister's. Then she called, told me to "get over it" and had to rush off to see my sister's kids. I am used to that too. I'm not allowed to have too much trauma or drama with my mother. I'm not allowed negative feelings or a differing opinion. She said she'd call last night so we could talk, but she didn't. I didn't really expect her to anyway.

But I'm not negative or bitter. Right?

Just give me another day or two and I will wring this angst from me and be positive and proactive and in charge and looking forward to the holidays later this week. I promise.

Okay?

a hui hou marama

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