Ben and I arrived home yesterday with a trunk full of sand and the shortest of tempers. I blazed through my afternoon - unpacking, starting laundry, sorting mail and calling clients. I finally took a few moments to get into bed with him and talk about our trip. He was too tired to talk. So was I.
This morning found me with back-to-back clients and a general feeling of being completely overwhelmed.
I'm compressing my clients into four work days so that I can leave again this weekend. More on that later.
Mostly, I'm feeling overwhelmed because I'm emotionally tired.
I haven't quite sifted through my thoughts on Chris yet and am trying to muster up the courage to write the final chapter on Florida. Which basically goes something like this: "You're there, I'm here. It doesn't seem like we want the same things. Call me if you wind up on the West Coast."
That should be easy enough to compose, right?
Then, there are my regrets over this recent vacation with Ben. Did I ever have a relaxing moment with him? Was I so dialed up that I sabotaged my own happiness on the trip? Could he sense that?
My only take-aways from our road trip are: Six-year-olds are, by and large, too young for long road trips. Six-year-olds like long stints on sandy beaches and they only need a bucket and one or two shovels to be completely happy. Southern California sucks. Who can relax with all that damn traffic?
And my take-away on Chris is that it's probably not going to work out. At least not in any way that I would like.
To add another layer to the complications of my already delicate emotional state, my mom signed me up for eharmony. Actually, she didn't sign me up but she did pay for it, in hopes that I can actually revive my dating life and meet some quality guys. Who live here.
So now I have all this eharmony distraction. If you know anything about eharmony, you're aware of the "Guided Communication" process which is a really lengthy way of getting to the stage of "Open Communication," where actual email messages can be traded. The whole thing makes me tired.
I finished my work day today in a bit of a daze. I ran through Target. I ran through Trader Joe's. I returned a Redbox movie. I thought about going to the bank and decided that it was too much output.
I let myself miss Ben for a bit. The laundry sat, unfolded. I allowed myself to feel a little displaced.
Then, I let go of all of that nonsense and thought about what's happening on Friday.
My best friend and I are getting on an airplane, bound for LA. That's already a good sign, right? No driving!
We're picking up a car and headed to South Pasadena to a super, super, super cool reception dinner for my super, super, super long-time friend's daughter's (did you catch all that?) pre-wedding dinner. Our hotel is in stumbling distance of the super, super, super cool champagne bar.
The next day, we are checking into the Renaissance in Agoura where we will catch a shuttle to the wedding site, which is in Malibu. And when I say "in Malibu," I mean directly on the PCH at a private residence, with tons of ocean and, I'm told, the best food possible.
The shuttle will take us back, so again, I'm super, super, super thrilled about no LA driving! But the highlights will be seeing my old friend's daughter get married (finally, after 10 long years!) and facilitating (in part) my best friend's escape from her children, who have never been apart from their mother (not one single night, except when she was giving birth to each of the others!).
Oh, and I'm super, super, super excited about seeing my old friend! I haven't seen her in over two years.
By the time I get home, it will be time to kick into 1st grade mode, drive to soccer practices, re-organize my work schedule to allow for back and forth driving to school and stock up on ham, cheese, white bread and juice boxes. Oh, and I have to turn 40 eventually, too.
But for now, there's Malibu!