I’m currently sitting at Honda, waiting for my van to be serviced. The waiting room is an ADD sufferer’s nightmare.
Ahead of me, there’s a tv airing CNN. I am trying so hard to follow the impeachment debate. Behind me is a second tv, where some kind of game show is playing. To my right is the dealership, playing Christmas music. All three are equally loud…or quiet. They are competing for my attention, and at this point, I’m the only one losing.
Add to this aural nightmare, the random persons around me choosing to listen to one YouTube video or another. I just heard “ok, I’m going to put potato chips in my vacuum bag.” Now I’m mildly frustrated and confused. Who in the world just puts potato chips in their vacuum?? Potato chips are for eating. And who are the people that are clicking through videos and stopping to view such atrocities (in this case, it seems to be a 3 year old. Whatever makes you happy, kiddo).
I simply don’t understand what causes people to feel entitled to making their presence be audibly known. Maybe it’s because I was raised by a Ballschmieder, with the understanding that in public, you remain quiet. Perhaps it’s my introverted desire to disappear into the background and remain unnoticed. I will never be the person who puts my phone on speaker in public. I will most likely not even answer my phone if I am in public (I probably won’t answer my phone even if I am alone, because I’m not a fan; I never have been).
Back to the initial earsore. I envy the individual who can sit with multiple distractions around them and focus on one item. I hear them all at once, and it ends up a jumbled, “air freshener leaves us with a blanket denial,” and I’m left having to decide if febreeze is in denial, or if it’s the Republicans. Give me closed captioning so I can turn my ears off and read what I want to be hearing!
I will be the first to admit, being productive is not my strong suit. I’m entirely too distractible. But, before Justin kicks me to the curb for not pulling my weight (or any amount of weight, for that matter), I decided I really better step up my game today.
I was off to a good start! The laundry was folded, I showered and got dressed (don’t judge me). Then on to the big tasks: returning library books before the military police arrest Justin for being related to a book-stealing hooligan–ok, I don’t actually know what happens when books are returned late. I’m just guessing it includes water boarding or some other form of torture. “Tell us where your books are!”
With books in hand, I hop into my van, and…she won’t start. Very well, I can only assume someone left a light on, or a door ajar, or whatever. Anyway, the library visit is now off the table. No big deal, there’s plenty more to be done!
On to the next big task: mowing the lawn. This task normally takes around 2 hours. I threw on workout clothes, put sunblock on my head scar (spf 100, per the dr’s orders. My forehead is going to be super pale this year). And away I go!
Just about 45 minutes in, there’s a loud BANG! And the mower stops. Ok, I probably hit a dog toy hidden in the grass–nope, it’s a chunk of burnt wood the size of my fist (leftover gifts from the previous owners, which Emma carries around the yard like they really are prized possessions).
Now would be a good time to mention I’m mildly terrified of lawnmowers. Irrational fear? Perhaps.
That chunk of wood was so far stuck on the blade, I didn’t even know where to begin. I kicked it a couple times, but out of fear that the blades would kick, I gave up on that rather quickly. Using my hands was absolutely out of the question–have you paid any attention to the month I’ve had?! I was not about to tempt fate.
Next idea: bang it with a log until the chunk of wood dislodges itself. This worked like a charm, and after I threw both pieces over the fence (not to worry, the overgrown wilderness on the other side of our fence is not owned…or, at least not by anyone who lives there). Of course now I realize that the mower is dripping oil from the top bit (the motor? I have no idea how any of this works). I’m assuming it’s because I had the mower flipped upside down while I was beating on it, but for now, it’s in a time out.
I met Justin in October of 2002. He was quiet. And…he was just really quiet.
I dated his friend, which is how I came to meet Justin. Proof that the events in your life lead you to where you are meant to be. Justin was getting ready to leave for the Army. For 4 months, Justin was always there.
Then he left for the Army. My unhealthy relationship with his friend ended. Through it all, the thing that upset me the most was that I was losing my tie with Justin.
Then the summer of 2003 rolled around, and was a rough one for me. By the end of it, I had spiraled into a deep depression, and as much as I told myself I was strong and single, I was anything but. My ex reappeared in my life, and we entered right back into our unhealthy on again/off again nonsense.
The best thing that came from me falling back into bad habits: one night at a party, Justin called one of his buddies. When his phone was about to die, he gave Justin my number. Finally, my friendship with Justin was no longer dependent on my being in an unhealthy relationship.
Thus began the most epic friendship of all time. We talked on the phone every night, for 2 hours or more. You might not think much of it, but this was a pretty big deal, because I hate talking on the phone. The greatest thing to ever happen in my life is text messaging.
I loved him. We only said it to each other a million times a day. He would tell me I should just marry him, and I would tell him he was being silly–we never even dated!
I would even talk to his friends, and they would say things like, “why won’t you marry Justin!?” Giggles giggles giggles. Oh my goodness, I can’t marry him! He’s my best friend!
When Justin left for Ranger School, we talked for hours the night before he left. We said our good nights and hung up; he called me back and said, “I just wanted to tell you I love you.” Aww Justin, I love you too! I was getting my hair dyed at the time, and the girl who was doing it said, “oh my gosh Sam! That was so sweet!” Yeah yeah. He’s the sweetest.
For the next 9 weeks, he wrote to me every day. If you are unaware of Ranger School, the sleep deprivation is insane. There were letters that would start out legible and then …______ “I fell asleep writing to you last night.” Those letters are a window into sleep deprivation-induced insanity. The anticipation of receiving those letters was intense! At one point he said an instructor actually told him no guy ever wrote as many letters as he did.
I ended up in a very short-lived, weird relationship with a guy who was…gross. Low point. When Justin called me on his graduation day, and I had to tell him I was kind of with someone, I felt like I was cheating on him. It was so hard to tell him.
But Justin was coming home on leave! And in the summer of 2004, I spent every free moment with him. If I wasn’t at work or at school, I was with Justin. We drove up to Maine, and went to his family reunion. His cousin got crazy drunk and asked us why we weren’t dating. Um, because! Justin is my best friend! Do you know what happens when you date someone?! You break up! And then you never speak to each other again!
Around the time that Justin headed back to Fort Benning, I got a text from him: it was too hard to just be friends. He loved me, but he couldn’t do it anymore. I read it to my best girl friend, Tanya. “Sam, you have to kiss him.” That sounds like a terrifying idea. I was not even a little bit ready to lose my best friend, but honestly at this point, it looked like I was on the verge of losing him anyway.
He was not true to his word, and we got right back into talking for hours every night. I would fall asleep on the phone. He would fall asleep on the phone. Justin starting asking me to marry him once more, and once again, I started giggling at the idea. Oh Justin, you’re so silly.
In the Fall of 2004, Justin said, “you’re never going to come visit me,” which I instantly took as a challenge. I booked my flight–I would fly to Georgia, drive back to New York with Justin. And then 2 weeks later, I would drive back to Georgia, and then eventually fly home. And once again, Tanya said, “you have to kiss him.”
But–
“If you never kiss him, you’ll never know if this could be more.” She was always right, and always offered the best advice.
Just a couple of kids in love.
So, I kissed him. And by March, I was asking him to marry me. I flew down to visit in April, and then in May he flew me down to be his date to a military ball–where I had a full on panic attack moments before he was supposed to be recognized for winning Ranger of the Quarter, or Superhero of the Century–I can’t remember which. Either way, he stayed with me while I unrealistically panicked over nothing.
When I got back to New York, I called him: “let’s get married when you’re home on leave.” He said sure (because “yes” is not in Justin’s vocabulary).
With the help of Tanya, I planned everything. And kept it a secret from everyone. Don’t even ask me why we were so set on eloping and telling no one–looking back, I’m sure we both had our reasons, but I’m sure they were all silly.
The morning of my baby sister’s high school graduation, Tanya came and picked up Justin and I. We were going out to breakfast with her, before she moved to Vegas: is what we told everyone. Really, we were driving 45 minutes away to get married in a city where no one knew our parents.
I love the story of us. I got to marry my best friend. Everyone should. Marry someone who wants to be with you every day. Marry someone who puts you before sleep. Marry someone who will call you back just to tell you he loves you. Marry your best friend.
…except sweat bees. They are the douchebags of the bee community.
An entire bee community, plagued by little guy syndrome.
I’m trying to be productive on my Mostly Day Off. I finally finished mowing my lawn, since my previous attempt was rained out, and prior to that, it had been…ok, so maybe some of it was knee high.
It happens.
In Kentucky.
Where it rained for a week straight. And I work too much. And my whole Coming Off Antidepressants has lead to a lot of couch slothing.
But yeah, it happens.
Besides, Justin isn’t here to judge me, so I can do what I want!
I mean…until housing leaves a note on my door that my back yard is not zoned as a Natural Zone, and I need to get my crappy together and mow that jungle.
I should get a job with the housing office–I could really bring a new voice to their “friendly reminders.”
Ok, so I googled it. And they don’t mean to be assholes.
Sorry sweat bee. I didn’t mean to scare you into stinging me when I squatted down and accidentally trapped you between my thigh and calf. It was an honest mistake.
In their defense, I’m a very sweaty girl. I’d probably hang out on me too, if I was attracted to sweat.
I’m irresistible.
To bees.
I’m irresistible to sweat bees. Get back to pollinating. I won’t squish any of your friends.
I’ve been having a rough week. There is no real cause, other than depression is sometimes a rollercoaster of awesome emotions. I have found myself in tears daily.
Not just in tears, but crying as my boss talked to me.
Did I screw up? Yes. Was I in trouble? No. Was I crying because of the talk(s)? NO!
He took it like a champ. “Well now, don’t cry about it.”
“It isn’t that!” And then came straight sobbing. Which always makes me hold my breath, in a sorry attempt to stop it. Which, let’s be honest, only makes it worse.
That was Monday.
Tuesday, different talk, more tears.
I locked myself in the bathroom and had a good long sob. Pity party for one.
I thought I was good. I thought I had it under control.
Five minutes later, I was hiding in the locker room, sobbing once more. There comes a point when you realize you just have to give in and allow yourself to not be ok.
I honestly love my job, but sometimes I have regrets: I am not the type of person who can do it all. Single working moms are real life super heroes, and this past few days have been another chunk of time where I question my though process: what made me think I could go from being a Stay At Home Mom whose husband was here, to being a Full Time Working Mom whose husband was on the other side of the globe!?
My morning started off no better. This is the point in the story where I also explain that my blood pressure has been astronomically high lately. While I was making breakfasts and lunches and FaceTiming Justin, our children were going to war, simply because Shea likes to torment her little brother, and Xander likes to hold a grudge and retaliate. Justin gets to calmly sit and eat his dinner, while I try to keep this insanity in check.
Luckily for my boss, I got my daily dose of crying out of the way before he came in this morning. Honestly though, when I pulled in and saw he wasn’t there, I could hear him saying, “I just don’t think I can handle another day of Sam cryin’!” And I finally think I got all of it out of my system.
Until the next breakdown. Because depression doesn’t play by any set of rules. Depression is just that uninvited guest that shows up and eats all your ice cream, and doesn’t help you do dishes. What a jerk.
The morning of my baby sister’s high school graduation, Tanya came and picked up Justin and I. We were going out to breakfast with her, before she moved to Vegas: is what we told everyone. Really, we were driving 45 minutes away to get married in a city where no one knew our parents.
