January was rough. It was slog. I wish I could pinpoint what exactly was so draining on my soul, but all I can say is that it took a toll. I normally bounce back after the holidays, reinvigorated with the prospect of a clean slate and rejuvenated from the break. I feel fired up to set new intentions to be a better person. But this year, it felt like I was dragging in the weight of the old year and overwhelmed by the prospect of having to do it again. It was tough.
As I felt this weight, I tried to counter it. I repeated my sankalpas. I tried self care. I talked to friends. I focused on all the positives. And at the end of the day I was exhausted. Work was not ideal, those new boundaries were blurry. Christmas was not the break I had anticipated. And I couldn't bring myself to find the fresh start I was so looking for in 2019.
As the month started to wind down, I stopped denying what I was feeling or trying to talk myself out of the funk and instead acknowledged that January sucked. In accepting the sucktacticness I started to feel a bit of the weight lift off and I decided to start looking to February as the real start of the year. I couldn't go back to the beginning of January to get that fresh perspective, but I could begin again with the next month. But what was I going to do with that clean slate? Because what I was doing at this point was clearly not working.
I started with work. Complaining and rehashing all the crap was not helping. Neither was trying to black out those negatives with the positives. I needed to start changing my perspective - yes there were things that sucked, but these were proving to be opportunities for me to grow as a leader and as an employee. I love learning new things, and this was certainly an opportunity for me to learn about myself and how to be a better boss. Bingo. As the last week of the year ticked away I finally started to feel the negative energy slip away. Miraculously, those boundaries I had been trying to put in place for months also started to fall in place. I didn't feel bad coming in at 9 instead of 8 when I could, nor did I feel resentful if I had to stay past 7 - because I knew I could sneak out early the next day.
February first arrived with a blanket of snow. During my morning chat with my parents, we talked about my brother's impending fatherhood - a major stress point over the holidays and another piece of the January slog - I looked around at the layer of clean white and focused on that fresh start. I remembered this meme about checking to see if someone has the mental capacity before you unload on them; and I realized I didn't have the emotional bandwidth for this. I had been so focused on setting work boundaries, I hadn't even thought about my emotional capacity in my personal life. I am lucky enough to have amazing parents, who immediately understood that while I support them, this was not something I could wade into with them. Presto. Boundaries fell into place with ease.
From there, the rest of the pieces began to fall into place. It wasn't as if all the problems I had been dealing with were solved, but they did feel manageable again. As the month has worn on, my self-care tactics have once again started working. I Marie Kondo'ed my bathroom after a particularly long week. I've got a new Sunday routine - starting my week with positive vibes in lieu of a dreaded countdown. I restarted my regular workouts. And I set-up dates with people I love and haven't seen in awhile. The world finally feels like it has tilted back on its axis.
2019 may have had a rocky start, but it was a good reminder that from time to time we have to reassess what works and find a new rhythm. And all in all, I think I have a good feeling about the dance we have begun.
Monday, February 18, 2019
Saturday, February 2, 2019
My Mom, Some Beers, & a Date
Let's take a poll, how many of you have been set-up by your parents? Okay, I'm going with about half of you having raised your hands. Now, let's narrow that down - how many have been set-up by your parents with someone they just met at a bar? What, just me?! Why don't you lean back and let me tell you about my second weirdest set-up (the first can be found here, if you need a refresher).
It all started on our annual mother-daughter B&B weekend. We got back from our magical two-days at the Inn in Boonsboro, and weren't ready for the weekend vibes to end so I decided to take her to Port City, my favorite brewery. It was late on Sunday afternoon and the crowd had started to thin, which meant we managed to find some seats to enjoy our flights, when a flurry starts by the door. A burly, slightly drunk dude was slapping magazines down on the tables and toasting to the article published about his brew-master skills. By the time he made it to our table, we had already finished our flight and were starting on a round two of our favorites, courtesy of the couple who handed the rest of our table (us + a couple in their 30s) their extra tickets before departing - we may have been feeling it a little bit.
My mother, not one to be a wallflower when slightly inebriated, complimented him on his art (i.e. tattoos) and invited him to join our little squad. He obliged, somehow managed to convince the other employees to let us all hang around, and even took us on a backstage tour. The other half of our foursome happened to work in the brewing industry. They were infinitely more suited for this tour than we were - especially since they were infinitely more sober than us. We didn't resort to stumbling down the steps, but we didn't appreciate the soliloquy on the importance of where you source your hops...I barely resisted screaming "boring" while slamming back my free beer. We made up for our lack of expertise and glazed expressions with timely head nods, "oohhs," and a couple "how interesting!" As the tour wound down, my mom kept nudging me and drunk-whispering "He's adorable!" Since drunk-whispers are heard best by drunk-ears, our new tour guide gave me the nod and a wink. With that kind of enthusiasm and my mother's seal of approval (plus a hip nudge that did send me stumbling into him), I had no choice but to hand him my card before we headed out and tell him to give me a call. I had planned to start dating again that fall, what was the worst that could happen?
I hate to disappoint you, but it wasn't the worst. It wasn't very great either, but definitely not the worst (those can be found here). Beer guy, as he shall be known, reached out within a few days. The life of a brew-master was not exactly compatible with that of corporate America, so it took some time to schedule the date. This gave me time to contemplate that I was potentially screwing up ever being welcome at my favorite brewery again, but I decided somethings in life are worth the risk - especially the potential of a good story.
After three weeks we managed to set-up a date in the District at a pub I loved and thought would fit Brew guy's vibe. What I didn't realize was that they shut down for the month of August to go build houses in South America (the nerve!). We ended up at a plan B bar down the street. I was late, he was later. And when he does arrive, I realize immediately that he is uncomfortable. Apparently he doesn't get out in the District very often, the after-work, corporate crowd made him itchy, and I intimidated the hell out of him. I asked if he wanted to go somewhere else, and he was so relieved to be able to pick something that he was more familiar with that when he reached for his wallet to pay only to realize that he had left it in his car I got to watch his confidence soar than plummet in the course of seconds. I assured him it was fine and broke the don't ride with strangers rules to head to a bar in VA that at least was closer to home.
On the way there I discovered that the reason I intimidated him was that he hadn't gone to college and my constant use of big words "falsetto," "ghastly," and "diametric" made him not understand what I was talking about - plus I was so pretty and older than him. I still thought we might find some common ground when I learned he had a cat, only to find out it was named ShitCat. This came out as a flood as he chain vaped to Iron Maiden. I now knew this was not going to be a love story, but I hadn't eaten and he seemed like a nice enough guy so I continued on to bar two hoping to forge a friendship or connection at the brewery.
Upon arrival, he was greeted by name and I learned that this is where the brewery crew goes after they close up. I tried to make conversation using my favorite game "guess what the other tables are talking about" and he was a good sport but grew bored and started running outside to vape. By the time it hit 11 and I had spent more time by myself at the bar than with him, I decided it was time to call it a night. I thought we were on the same page as to the success of the evening, but he asked if I wanted to come hang out after hours at the brewery next week at his shift - damn my inordinate charm and good looks! I told him that it was clear to me that I wasn't ready to start dating quite yet, but appreciated the offer.
And it was true, I would take another two months before I jumped back into the dating pool. And it would take me almost a year before I ventured into the brewery again - and of course he was there, and of course he recognized me, and yes, it was awkward. But he was cordial and I was polite, and we all lived happily ever after. And I have yet to let my mother set me up again.
It all started on our annual mother-daughter B&B weekend. We got back from our magical two-days at the Inn in Boonsboro, and weren't ready for the weekend vibes to end so I decided to take her to Port City, my favorite brewery. It was late on Sunday afternoon and the crowd had started to thin, which meant we managed to find some seats to enjoy our flights, when a flurry starts by the door. A burly, slightly drunk dude was slapping magazines down on the tables and toasting to the article published about his brew-master skills. By the time he made it to our table, we had already finished our flight and were starting on a round two of our favorites, courtesy of the couple who handed the rest of our table (us + a couple in their 30s) their extra tickets before departing - we may have been feeling it a little bit.
My mother, not one to be a wallflower when slightly inebriated, complimented him on his art (i.e. tattoos) and invited him to join our little squad. He obliged, somehow managed to convince the other employees to let us all hang around, and even took us on a backstage tour. The other half of our foursome happened to work in the brewing industry. They were infinitely more suited for this tour than we were - especially since they were infinitely more sober than us. We didn't resort to stumbling down the steps, but we didn't appreciate the soliloquy on the importance of where you source your hops...I barely resisted screaming "boring" while slamming back my free beer. We made up for our lack of expertise and glazed expressions with timely head nods, "oohhs," and a couple "how interesting!" As the tour wound down, my mom kept nudging me and drunk-whispering "He's adorable!" Since drunk-whispers are heard best by drunk-ears, our new tour guide gave me the nod and a wink. With that kind of enthusiasm and my mother's seal of approval (plus a hip nudge that did send me stumbling into him), I had no choice but to hand him my card before we headed out and tell him to give me a call. I had planned to start dating again that fall, what was the worst that could happen?
I hate to disappoint you, but it wasn't the worst. It wasn't very great either, but definitely not the worst (those can be found here). Beer guy, as he shall be known, reached out within a few days. The life of a brew-master was not exactly compatible with that of corporate America, so it took some time to schedule the date. This gave me time to contemplate that I was potentially screwing up ever being welcome at my favorite brewery again, but I decided somethings in life are worth the risk - especially the potential of a good story.
After three weeks we managed to set-up a date in the District at a pub I loved and thought would fit Brew guy's vibe. What I didn't realize was that they shut down for the month of August to go build houses in South America (the nerve!). We ended up at a plan B bar down the street. I was late, he was later. And when he does arrive, I realize immediately that he is uncomfortable. Apparently he doesn't get out in the District very often, the after-work, corporate crowd made him itchy, and I intimidated the hell out of him. I asked if he wanted to go somewhere else, and he was so relieved to be able to pick something that he was more familiar with that when he reached for his wallet to pay only to realize that he had left it in his car I got to watch his confidence soar than plummet in the course of seconds. I assured him it was fine and broke the don't ride with strangers rules to head to a bar in VA that at least was closer to home.
On the way there I discovered that the reason I intimidated him was that he hadn't gone to college and my constant use of big words "falsetto," "ghastly," and "diametric" made him not understand what I was talking about - plus I was so pretty and older than him. I still thought we might find some common ground when I learned he had a cat, only to find out it was named ShitCat. This came out as a flood as he chain vaped to Iron Maiden. I now knew this was not going to be a love story, but I hadn't eaten and he seemed like a nice enough guy so I continued on to bar two hoping to forge a friendship or connection at the brewery.
Upon arrival, he was greeted by name and I learned that this is where the brewery crew goes after they close up. I tried to make conversation using my favorite game "guess what the other tables are talking about" and he was a good sport but grew bored and started running outside to vape. By the time it hit 11 and I had spent more time by myself at the bar than with him, I decided it was time to call it a night. I thought we were on the same page as to the success of the evening, but he asked if I wanted to come hang out after hours at the brewery next week at his shift - damn my inordinate charm and good looks! I told him that it was clear to me that I wasn't ready to start dating quite yet, but appreciated the offer.
And it was true, I would take another two months before I jumped back into the dating pool. And it would take me almost a year before I ventured into the brewery again - and of course he was there, and of course he recognized me, and yes, it was awkward. But he was cordial and I was polite, and we all lived happily ever after. And I have yet to let my mother set me up again.
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