It's sure been chaos as the program year gets underway, and I try to make my life work all by myself while my M continues working 3,000 miles away.
I don't think I like the bicoastal couple thing as much as I thought I would be OK with it...
I'm experimenting with a new type of program, a panel discussion event on Sunday afternoon. Previously, the Sunday afternoon events were single speakers, and we'd arrange a fully served meal.
This time, because I'm worried I've been overtaxing my cooks with all the events they've done and all the ones coming up, the committee wanted to try it potluck style. It could be great... or it could be a colossal failure.
I fear colossal failure.
This could be control freak issues, but also probably has some roots in my perfectionist tendencies. If things aren't perfect, I get very upset, usually because I fear someone will be mad at me. As a committee, we know it might take a few events to work out all the bugs. But I just want everything to be perfect the first time! And it won't be!
I'm also leaving for Mexico for a language immersion in a week. No matter how much I study, I don't feel like I've studied enough. I've been listening to Spanish language CDs to get my ear used to the language, I've been studying my vocab so much I feel like I'm in high school... and still I feel like my mind is made of water. Nothing is staying in there, and every time I see one of our Spanish congregants, all my language work flees out of my head, leaving nothing but "Nos vemos!" left behind. ("See you later!")
Not to mention that I'm way behind on my laundry and if I don't do laundry today, I'll be going to Mexico wearing a pair of fleece lined running tights and an old camping sweater.
Hopefully, Mexico will help relax me just a little. On the bright side, I did find Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day in Spanish, and have been working on translating that. Because I know the story so well, it helps me feel grounded and in control.
Hmmm... is there a control freak theme developing?
Meanwhile, M is still in Harpers Ferry, being a stellar intern and earning huge kudos from bosses. And the federal government is a giant mess and freezing hiring until after the election. F* the government and our stupid congress' inability to work together to do anything, let alone pass a budget. (Really, Congress, I have very little patience with you right now.) Stuff like that is affecting my personal life a great deal! If Congress would have passed a budget, M could get a job, and then he could finish his fellowship and come live with me again.
I always said I wasn't the type of girl who NEEDED a man. Cue damsel with blousy top and bosom, drooping into the arms of some muscular stud. First of all, I am far from damsel-esque and I totally don't have the rack to pull off a heaving bosom. But I've found I really do miss him. I like having another person around the house. And while he's messy... well, the truth is that I'm pretty lazy when I'm lonely. And that's why I still have my race belt and Camelback on my table from last month.
Maybe I should be cleaning today?
At least I got a nice run in yesterday. The rains have returned to Oregon, which is how we say, "Winter is coming!" in Oregonese. It means that the next six months are going to be an adventure like a live-action puzzle, as I bring various workout pieces to work with me so I can shoehorn in outdoor playtime whenever the weather lets up for an hour or so.
The last few days I have woken up to thick, pea-soup fog outside my window of my house in the hills. But it has burned off to leave gorgeous cool, clear blue sky by afternoon. So yesterday, I got all hopeful and tossed some running stuff into my Beetle's boot. And as the afternoon was winding down, the weather peaked to perfect, so I headed out for a nice run on the Ridgeline trail.
Trail running makes me feel so super-star! All that leaping over roots and plugging away uphill makes me feel so fast and heroic. Granted, I'm probably running 14 minute miles, but I *FEEL* superhero-tastic, and that's what's important.
One friend tries to remind me that it's not the speed, it's finishing the event. The sage within nods, sagely and wisely. But the perfectionist whines that I could be faster, thinner, stronger, smarter, richer, living in a bigger house, doing a PhD, and home cooking pancakes from buckwheat I grind myself.
Maybe the running helps me run away from that perfectionist little twerp within.