Wednesday, May 21, 2008

I'm almost afraid to say it for fear of breaking the spell

... but I think I'm starting to feel better.

I worried yesterday because helping an old man across the street made me cry.

It's the third elderly person I've helped across Yonge Street in the last two weeks - two women and a man - all of whom were having trouble stepping off the curb. And the curb there is slanted down to meet the road - it's barely even a curb. But I noticed this old fellow try to take a stab at it, then of course the light changed, and he just sort of acted like he'd changed his mind, and oh, I'll just admire the view over here. So I sidled up to him and asked him if he'd like a hand crossing the street. He was so grateful, it was almost too much. I crossed back to go to the mall to buy my lunch, and couldn't keep back the tears.

But then, I started an attempt to think rationally. Not beating myself up for being emotional about his vulnerability. Just trying to put myself back together.

I thought, hmm. We're heading toward the end of the month. Seems to me it's quite possibly PMS time! Plus it was after 2pm and I was damn hungry. So, I managed to calm down, with the help of a hamburger and french fries (with a healthy orange juice and pistachios for dessert).

As for PMS, I was right! As I discovered today. I'm so proud. Do I know myself or what?
The point: I'm encouraged by the fact that I haven't had a full-scale meltdown like I've had the last two cycles. Maybe it's the meds. Maybe it's the morning mantra (today is just today). And maybe I'm getting better.

I also resolved that if/when I get to the point I'm having trouble negotiating a curb of .5 cm, I will swallow my pride and get a cane. Like this one.

The weekend:
my son, who I like to call Charlie in this blog, and I went to a birthday party this weekend that had a puppet show! (No worries mate, it was just puppets; no marionettes.) Charlie gets very excited about puppet shows. And this one turned out to be extra good because one of his little friends got to be a princess, and the puppet lady said they needed a prince to slay the dragon. I whispered to Charlie, "wanna go up?" "Yes!"

So his little friend was in her princess cape (pink) and he was in his prince cape (silver and black and sparkly!) with a shield and sword! And he smacked the dragon puppet to slay it. I was so proud. Seriously. He's so shy, and his willingness to go up to the front was rather out of character. And never mind the fact that it was rather sexist, the two of them in their capes was, without a doubt, one of the CUTEST sights I have ever beheld in all my born days.

In other news:
our department VP (my boss's boss's boss, all of whom are younger than me, but it really doesn't bother me at all, at all) today apologized to each of us, individually, for the way the "termination" was handled last week. She insisted it did not come out of the blue for my departed colleague, and admitted it was handled abominably (I actually think she might've even used that word). I said apology accepted. I do in fact appreciate it, and I feel a bit less cynical. Largely because she admitted they'd probably done some real damage to the team's commitment.

The pic at the top of this post:
Not a teacup on its own, but I just cleaned up the kitchen, and thought, as I often do, gee I love our dishes - Fiestaware! - which I love because they're my favourite colours in all the world. The cobalt blue ones are new (well, nearly six years old, but new as opposed to vintage) - a wedding gift (purchased at Hudson's in Orillia), and the green and turquoise are vintage. They make me happy every single day, if even for just a minute or two.

No comments:

Post a Comment