Wednesday, July 28, 2010
In the middle of a discussion, as I was outlining certain obstacles to be considered in the planning process of one of those projects that everyone believes will be quite simple (1) I realized that I was about to lose it.
There was an unreasonable wave of anger followed by the incredible urge to burst into tears.
It past in a moment or so...right after I finished presenting the point that I had to make. But it's hung with me because it was just so unbelievably strange a sensation. Like one of those micro-burst storms you read about.
For the record, I didn't actually cry. I even checked in with a friend who was at the meeting who assured me that none of what was going on in my head was apparent on my face.
Which is also odd because I have no poker face whatsoever. If I'm thinking it it's usually not much of a secret.
So this is yet another thing to chalk up to this July of my discontent. Maybe it's because I'm invested in another grand re-ordering and reorganizing. Maybe because I'm restless and ready to move on because I've known the professional situation that I'm in right now is not working but - because of this funny thing where the bank likes to get checks in exchange for letting Leopold and I keep the roof over our head - dramatic gestures are not an option right now.
Maybe because there are so many things I would rather be investing my time and energy in right now but can't because of the whole "so many hours in a day" situation.
And maybe because some mental gremlin sat on the right bit of gray matter at the wrong time.
There's really only one way to be sure...but I'm not sure if the Very Brady Christmas clip of Mrs. Brady standing in front of the collapsed building singing "O Come All Ye Faithful" is on YouTube. If that bit doesn't make you cry, you're some kind of monster.
1. Meaning it's very simple for them as they will have nothing to do with making it happen.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Hotter than is reasonable.
And, because this is the way things work out sometimes, Leopold has been unwittingly drawn into testing a theory.
You see, for much of this week he has been trying to show a colleague the sites of our fair city despite the brutal heat. The colleague, as chance would have it, is from England.
So yes, boys and girls, they do go out in the noonday sun.
And if you're wondering, with regard to the heat, our dog Finkelstein's none to happy about the situation either.