…in other words: The story of my life…every day this week…if my name were Alex.
Forgive this moment of self indulgence but I really just need a minute to vent. In a nutshell, nothing, I repeat, NOTHING has gone right this week.
Last weekend I came down with some freak stomach bug that left me in a bad way from Saturday afternoon on. I’ll spare you the gory details – it wasn’t pretty.
It takes your body some time to recover from that though, and, as a result, I’ve been exhausted and incapable of getting any truly restorative sleep during this hell week.
Monday:
In thinking about the events of the past few days, I need to make one minor adjustment to the aforementioned; not everything went wrong. Monday night was fantastic! The ManBoy and I made an absolutely scrumptious meal of carne asada, corn, and roasted vegetables. I’m telling you, I impressed myself on this one. We watched West Wing and snuggled {I know, gross ;-)} - It was really great!
Tuesday:
Tuesday though, he and I had plans for a long overdue date night. We’re the couple that has made it a commitment of ours to, every so often, set aside a night exclusively for us – date night! Restaurant Week is coming to an end in New York, and it seemed like the perfect opportunity for a romantic night out. We had reservations at Tribeca Grill and I’d spent the better part of the work day mentally rummaging through my closet for the perfect outfit.
Along comes 5:00pm. The ManBoy’s boss drops the bomb that “tonight is gonna be a late one”. Really bossman? Really? Reservations: Cancelled. (Ugh)
Meanwhile, I too got stuck on a project at work that kept me there past the time at which we should have been arriving arm in arm at the restaurant. Instead, I left the office at 8:00, trekked home to the city, ate a lonely dinner of leftovers and pork and veggie gyoza, watched a terrible movie on TV, and did an obscene amount of laundry.
Date. Night. Fail.
Wednesday:
Hump Day! Come on, things have got to go up from here. Of course not. Work put me through the ringer and I’ll leave it at that. {Luckily, I was fortunate enough to enjoy the company of the ManBoy, his sister, and her friend (both of whom just completed the New York Bar Exam – congratulations girls!) over burritos and sufficiently strong frozen margaritas. Needless to say, bed time came far too late and I am, once again, exhausted.}
Thursday:
The hits just keep comin’! Understandably, I was running a little late this morning (what with all those margaritas last night) and I was racing the clock to get to my car before the 8:00am street cleaning rules went into effect. I charged out of my building and low and behold what do I find? Two traffic cops standing at my car…clearly. I start shouting “stop stop stop I’m here!” No dice. {Allegedly, once you start writing the electronic ticket, you can’t stop…hmmm can we look into that please?}
Well, furious with the scenario and watching one of the two officers walk away from the car to fiddle with the ticket machine, my Jersey born and bred attitude kicked in. It was no secret that I was pissed at what was taking place. I continued to insist on the ridiculous nature of the ticket and that I was here at 8:00am on the dot to move my car. Needless to say, it didn’t help {New York is facing a budget deficit and this is their way of settling balances}.I hope those two sleep well at night knowing that ripping off the driving population is at the center of their life’s work. Good for you, fake cop.
Arghhhh!
So, after my futile attempt at fighting the inevitable, I yanked the ticket out of the officer’s hand and sped off. Jerks!
Then the tears came. Poor ManBoy gets a teary 8:07am phone call with me on the other end ranting and raving about a situation completely and utterly beyond his control. What a good guy – Lord knows what makes him stick around {Hey Roommates – Make no mistake, that was not an invitation for you to share your thoughts on the matter}.
Not thirty seconds after driving off, I find myself in the traffic jam of all traffic jams getting onto the FDR. I didn’t reach the highway for another 25 minutes (it should take about 60 seconds total to get from my apartment to the FDR). It can really go without saying, but I was very late for work today. Joy.
Over the course of the day, pieces of news have continued to filter in that have made the day go from bad to worse. My friends, who were planning on coming up from DC to the shore this weekend, had to cancel because they were told they need to work. The plans to spend happy hour with my girlfriends and our significant others this evening have fallen through. And, we’ve received word that my grandfather has become very ill…
Essentially, I just can’t catch a break…help?
I know, I know. I’ve been neglecting my duties as a faithful blogger. My sincerest apologies. I’ll do better, I promise.
Truth be told, I’ve simply not had much to say (a first, I can assure you). Nevertheless, I thought it best to touch base with all of you out there on the blogosphere.
How are you? If you’re an inhabitant of the northeastern United States, the answer is, most likely, wet and fed up with this weather. I mean really? What happened to the good old days – the time when June meant gorgeous sunny weather and the wind down of classes? Apparently, someone left the faucet running.
Now, I promise this blog has not been reduced to “talking about the weather”, but someone had to say something, because COME. ON. ALREADY!
{Consider my angry, soggy rant complete.}
In other news, I took my first trip of the season to the Shore. The ManBoy and I drove down last Saturday (his first experience at my Shore house) and spent the weekend with my family. Lots of relaxing, not a lot of sun. On Sunday, after having snuck in a few minutes of boat cruising around the bay, we returned home with the feeling that summer really had arrived (though with no tan to show for it). My summer is usually spent anxiously awaiting Friday afternoon, hopping into my car after work, blasting some country music, and heading down to the Jersey Shore for the weekend (most of the time you can add sitting in traffic to that equation, but that ruins the poetic nature of the image, so we’ll leave it out for now).
As I stare out my office window at the grey, drenched landscape (thinking about my thwarted plans of enjoying Happy Hour at the Boat Basin) I am reminded that sunny skies are just around the corner (they have to be, this can’t go on forever, can it? Is someone building an ark and I didn’t hear about it?) If I close my eyes, for just a moment (because that would look incredibly strange to anyone on the trading floor who notices), I can envision myself relaxing on the beach – “…the sun and the sand, and a drink in my hand…” and I know it’s closer than it feels all the way out here in Connecticut.
So, until things dry up, splash in the puddles, dance in the rain, and soak it up….there are so many great things to look forward to this summer – and I’m fairly certain, the sun won’t want to miss out on them.
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Sooo after a great weekend up in Boston...I'm a lil' sickling...And, to make matters worse, it's an icky, rainy week in New York City.Dear Dr. ManBoy, please come take care of me. I believe the prescription calls for: The latest episode of Harper's Island, Chicken Soup, and lots of hugs and snuggles. Thank you.
It’s going to be one of those weeks. You know the kind, you return home from a blissfully relaxing and fun-filled 3-day weekend to a list of a million things to do and you don’t even know where to start.
I spent Memorial Day Weekend in Washington, DC with the ManBoy’s family. We were there to celebrate his sister’s graduation from the Washington College of Law at The American University; and having spent last weekend with them in New York it was great to continue the fun in our nation’s capital! However, somewhere amidst the fun – the food, the wine, the sunny weather, and the admission of a number of complete strangers that they read this blog, I completely forgot about the immense amount of work waiting for me upon my return home…
It’s moving week! (AHHHHHH!) and as potentially exciting, no, thrilling as that may be, I can’t quite see the finish line through the cluttered to-do list.
{I think it is appropriate to note here that while I may appear, to the cyber world, a calm, even-tempered soul, in reality, I suffer from an undiagnosed (and thus, un-medicated) case of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder coupled with Attention Deficit Disorder. Consequently, excessive disarray in both my emotional life and physical space can lead to mild anxiety attacks. In other words, this is not gonna be a fun week for anyone involved!}
I have an entire apartment to pack up and move into Manhattan in a matter of days and a million logistical things to take care of so that when we show up to our new home we have keys, a new wall built in the living room, cable and Internet set up, and a roll of toilet paper in the bathroom. On top of that, the ManBoy will, in all likelihood, be stuck at the office late every night this week.
Luckily, my parents have graciously offered to help me out and will be arriving at my apartment at 6pm this evening. Hopefully, a few extra hands will make the process move more smoothly (here’s hopin’).
Last night, while the ManBoy provided moral support by checking up on his fantasy baseball stats and watching The West Wing (our favorite show), I successfully boxed up the pots and pans, my winter coats, and all of my purses and tote bags. I also removed wall hangings, photo frames, and books from the shelves. Needless to say, in its current state, my Greenwich apartment looks like a bomb went off.
As a result, this morning, after a mild scare from work and the challenging acceptance of my messy apartment (for the first time in ages I didn’t even make my bed), I arrived at the office with a spasm in my lower back, wearing two different colored shoes – one black shoe, one blue…
Rough start - this does not bode well for the rest of the week.
How am I ever going to make it through?
Wish me luck!
…in other words: The story of my life…every day this week…if my name were Alex.
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