Anatomy of a Dress

Yesterday at breakfast the waitress came and stood near me, refilling my water slowly and murmuring so that only I could hear that I had a very calm energy, and my presence soothed her because she could tell that I wasn’t demanding anything from her in that moment. My energy was more subdued than calm, but I took the compliment for what it was and smiled up at her shyly. “Come stand near me anytime you need,” I advised.

Subdued because work has been a roiling pot of insanity. I mean just….well whatever. I would quit — I should quit — and spend my last 2.5 weeks in Dallas bored and restless, reading books and watching movies and wishing passionately for my life to start already, to throw off this truss of a cocoon and fly, HELLO, but I am kind of lusting after a refurb Macbook (also, my 2005 iBook is death-rattling and I am terrified–terrified, I tell you–of being without a computer,) and so. I go in and bare my teeth in a simulacra of a smile and charm the pants off of everyone around me and rake in the stacks of cash and march grimly home to do it again. I dislike the job so much I am not even drinking to dull the pain.

I am shopping, however; after breakfast I wandered over to Buffalo Exchange and accidentally spent $100 on 3 sundresses, a pair of sandals and this incredible wool sweater. The sundresses made me feel infinitely better, and though I lost my yen to be out in public and skipped the (becoming more urgent every day) needed eyebrow wax, I did stay home and give myself a pedicure while I shot the breeze with Greg.

This morning has been its own adventure–after a fancy dinner last night (OMG there were fried oysters and my life will never be the same), Soccer Captain and I retired to the Four Star Hotel he’s been put up in for his month-long job, and after tossing and turning all night in a shockingly narrow bed, capitol of the land of Six Dollar Red Bulls and Oops I Just Bought an Episode of Nurse Jackie–I spent two hours dealing with a car out of gas, a freak thunderstorm with no driver’s side window, a slipping transmission, getting horribly lost and driving forty minutes in the wrong direction during aforementioned transmission-and-thunderstorm debacle, and a burgeoning ear infection. To which I say: Soccer Captain, You Can Keep Your Fancy Digs.

Ugh, and now I have to go to work. My point of meditation this week:

Onward and awkward!