** "I'm getting less moody, aren't I?" He pauses and then says, "A little." I start to tell him just how wrong he is. I am a LOT less moody. And then I start to laugh. Right. Dearest One walked right into a trap of the sort of "does this dress make me look fat?" variety. I let go of my need to be right and realize that even my protest shows that I'm not quite where I thought I was.
** "I didn't recognize you because you were so skinny." It's a few hours later and we're in the grocery store. I hunt up and down the aisles for something when I see Dearest One talking to an elderly couple we haven't seen since last summer. Back then we talked about how fortunate I was that they caught the pathology report mistake before I had my breast removed. I have no energy to tell them what came next. I duck around the corner and continue shopping. I stop to dig through my purse and find my cell phone. I expect Dearest One to send me a text and ask me where he can find me. Except he didn't. He came looking for me and then walked right by the aisle I was in because he didn't recognize me. I wish this made me happy.
** "Are you the wife?" Them's fighting words although the telemarketer on the other end of the phone doesn't know this. I tell him that no, I'm not THE wife. He asks me to repeat myself. I do. Then his voice takes on the hue of someone backing away slowly from the room and he tells me he will phone back later. Good call. I was getting ready to tell him I may be moody and I may be skinny but I am neither an article nor an adjective. Sigh.
** "I didn't recognize you because you were so skinny." It's a few hours later and we're in the grocery store. I hunt up and down the aisles for something when I see Dearest One talking to an elderly couple we haven't seen since last summer. Back then we talked about how fortunate I was that they caught the pathology report mistake before I had my breast removed. I have no energy to tell them what came next. I duck around the corner and continue shopping. I stop to dig through my purse and find my cell phone. I expect Dearest One to send me a text and ask me where he can find me. Except he didn't. He came looking for me and then walked right by the aisle I was in because he didn't recognize me. I wish this made me happy.
** "Are you the wife?" Them's fighting words although the telemarketer on the other end of the phone doesn't know this. I tell him that no, I'm not THE wife. He asks me to repeat myself. I do. Then his voice takes on the hue of someone backing away slowly from the room and he tells me he will phone back later. Good call. I was getting ready to tell him I may be moody and I may be skinny but I am neither an article nor an adjective. Sigh.
5 comments:
See, it's all about strategic moodiness ;)
Good to know you still have some of your feistiness!
I love your sense of self-awareness. I strive to be aware of my own triggers and motivations, but it's not easy work!
It's good to know who you are and how you want to be identified! Or not!!
I apologize, having been in a bit of a slump lately and missing the last couple of entries. As always, you give me reason to smile, this one reminding me of Beth and I, even after nearly forty-nine years; and reason to "connect", your "little engine that could" prayer, in the last one, being part of my own journey at times....
What I like is how Alive you are.
Post a Comment