Everything is happening all at once, it seems.
I’ve all but disappeared, as I try and keep organized and get everything done between work (12 hour days and writing non-stop), packing and arranging for renovations to begin on the condo.
(When did I buy a condo? And how is it possible that I close in 5 days?)
I posted a photo of me in running gear on Instagram the other morning and less than two hours later, I posted on Facebook about a random compliment that I received from a random stranger at the local Starbucks.
It was an interesting contrast, I realized afterwards, from me in my running gear, feeling pretty badass, to being in a dress and pink shoes, and blushing like a school girl.
I think I’d be so much braver about facing everything that’s going on right now if I could do it in running capris and a ball hat.
It’d be a lot easier, for sure.
But instead, I’m still wearing my twirly girly dresses. Feeling the material swish, when I walked into Home Depot on Monday, to order my dark hardwood flooring that everyone keeps telling me I’m going to regret when I can’t keep them clean. Feeling like my Nanny when I visited Clara at her father’s that night, and we roamed the front yard looking for snails and pine cones (I remember so clearly my nanny walking around the front yard at my parent’s house, smelling the flowers and smiling her smile).
“When did I become a grownup?” I burst out, a little bewildered, while chatting with my real estate agent the other day.
I’m not 100% sure, but I’m guessing it was when I fielded calls from my lawyer and my mortgage broker while in the middle of a big launch at work that we’ve spent months preparing for. Emailing one contractor to say he got the job and another one to say he didn’t. Getting my divorce papers in the mail that same day, then pulling on my red hot Lulus to go to yoga when I was feeling less-than warrior like.
Getting back up the next morning and delivering my reno application. Going to the bank to get my down payment for the condo so I can deliver it to my lawyer tomorrow, where I will sit down and my name will be the only name on the papers I sign.
All of this is stuff that people do every single day, I get that. It’s life, and it is what it is. But it’s a lot, at least for me, and yes, it’s happening all at once.
I’m getting texts and calls and messages from people, asking why I haven’t been in touch, why I haven’t replied to their messages, why I’ve disappeared. “Don’t take it personally,” I’ve said. Even my own mother, who finally tracked me down at my desk today, only because I finally returned her call while in the car this morning.
If you want to see me, show up on my doorstep and offer to pack a box, is what I should be saying. I need some help, I should be able to ask. But I’m not. Instead, I’m keeping my head down, my eyes on the ground and I’m getting stuff done, when frankly, all I want to do is sit cross-legged on my couch, eat sushi and watch endless hours of Netflix.
And the result? Of more and more and it happening all at once? I’m left feeling a little like a deer caught in the headlights; wide-eyed, scared and ready to flee.
Except I know I won’t. “She knows exactly what she wants,” my agent said to my contractor when we met him at the condo to get a quote. And he’s right, I do.
I’m not sure which is a better representation of me at this moment, me in my running gear and acting like a badass, or me in frilly polka dots and pink shoes, feeling delicate and fragile.
But…if I had to guess, I’d say I’m somewhere in between, and I’m okay with that.