Freaking Out @ MindSay

What have I been doing since my last post?

Waiting.

A guy from a literary publication contacted me, saying he read an article about me in Rosebud (see chapter 20 for details) and wanted to report the article in his own magazine.

How cool is that?  After running around the apartment, arms flailing, blood pumping, I sat at my computer to see what he needed. 

I filled out a bio like he asked me to, answered some questions like he asked me to, and then…

Waited.

It's been two weeks since I e-mailed him the answers and I haven't heard back.  Is my story going to be in the next publication?  Who knows.  All I can do is wait.

And last Saturday, the day before my first wedding anniversary, my wife and I went looking for houses.  We found one, we liked it, we went to see it again.

We decided to put an offer on it. 

So we print out all the documents and spend the evening signing them.  One after another after another.  Boom boom boom.

I get to work extra early so I can fax everything over to the realtor in time for her to get the offer in by 10.  I stick the papers into the machine, I type the number.

Nothing.

I try again.

Nothing.

I pitifully ask for help.

The fax machine is not my friend.

But fortunately we have another, so I try that sucker.  And wouldn't you know it, that one doesn't work either.  It's an epidemic.

But that's okay, because we can scan the documents and turn them into PDFs and e-mail them over.

If only the person who has access to the fancy printer would get in to work already.

Minutes tick by.  I keep trying to fax.  It keeps not working.  More minutes go by.

And hour goes by.

And finally she's here, and zip, we go straight to the machine.  It reads the documents hungrily.  We've got ourselves a PDF.

Oh wait, it's too large to e-mail.

We rescan.  Three smaller piles worth.  Three new files.

Oh, these'll go through the invisible e-mail wires, but veeeeeeeery slowly.  So I wait, and I wait, and I see the little "sending" icon on my computer, and I wait.

And I know that every minute that goes by an offer could be coming in from someone else.

But finally the realtor has all the documents!  But she has a meeting to go to.

"I'll send this right after lunch."

Uh, my stomach is killing me.  That other offer could be coming in right now.  The house could be disappearing from our grasp.

But "right after lunch" comes around, and I think the offer is in, and I know we aren't going to get an answer back right away (and if we did it'd probably be an answer we didn't want) but I'm still anxious anyway.

Waiting.

And then the phone rings at 5:00. Boy howdy am I nervous.

But for no reason, because there's no answer yet, because she hasn't even put in the offer yet.  There's a line on one of the forms that got cut off, so I have to rewrite my initials and send it through again.

So I do that.  But no, we BOTH need to initial.  So I forge Kristina's three letters and send it through again.

Okay, that's it, she's good to go.  The offer is in.

And now?

We wait.

And I know in that time another offer has come in.  I just know it.  How could it not have?

But even so…

…we wait. 

I could have an article printed about me in a literary magazine, and I could be the proud owner of a lovely new home in Levittown, Pennsylvania.

I could.  After the wait.   

One of my friends is, to put it quite mildly, rather anxious.

He's got a show coming up in two weeks. They're not nearly as well into their scripts as he'd like. Really, two weeks away from a show, he wants everyone OUT of their scripts, and he's particularly perturbed that he isn't.

This is the topic of conversation every time our busy lives let us briefly fall into step. Not the only topic, but it's where we start, and we keep returning to it, and before we both leave he'll be upset about it again.

I am beginning to understand why it is that I drive crazy those who love me. Not that I begrudge him his emotion, or think that he's overreacting - I fully understand the sentiment. But, there's nothing I can do. I wish I could help. And every time it comes up again, I feel frustrated because I can't help.

If I were of a more properly feminine mindset, I'd probably be able to recognize this as him wanting someone to sympathize - proclaiming an emotion not because you want the problem solved, but because you're stressed and worried and you want some sort of affirmation. But, I don't know if I have too much testosterone, or what - I hear what he's saying, and immediately I start looking for a solution to the problem, and there's nothing I can do. I can't even really tell him that it'll be okay, because that's not what he's looking for. I'm not sure what he is trying to find, although I keep telling him that he needs an outlet. I'm usually thinking running or horseback riding or something equivalent - for him, theater IS his outlet.

So, what do I do? I pray. I pray that I can figure out how to be better friend. I pray that he'll find his confidence again and pull of the show with all his usual panache. I pray that he'll stop running himself ragged over this - he's beginning to make himself sick. And oh do I pray that he'll see what he's doing to himself, because after this show ends, he's seriously trying to do two shows at once, as the lead and another fairly chief character.

...sometimes I comment to him that I have no idea what the two of us have in common, or how we were drawn together. Now I begin to understand. I've heard it said that people come into our lives for a reason, bringing something we must learn - this particular lad's purpose may well be to teach me what it's like to deal with me on a daily basis.

I'm exaggerating - I love him dearly, of course. But I'm strongly tempted to slip him something that'll both sedate him and intensify his focus, and take away his car keys. Make him learn the script, and stop freaking out about it.

Somehow, I have no problem seeing certain people fantasizing something similar for me in the past. Irony is a beauty.

I'm still here and stressed beyond belief about my test tomorrow. I have no idea why I'm freaking out so much over this test. This is worse than my usual freaking out. I'm wound up so tight that I can't calm down enough to adequately study.

 The worst part is I also have a paper due tomorrow.

 

I'm so overwrought that I don't even have the desire to do my hair and look presentable. In a few minutes I'm going to IHOP to study wearing a *gulp* head scarf! Environgirl will tell you that this means I'm pretty bad off. I always take the time to do my hair and make-up.  At least it matches my shirt.

Oh. My. God. I SWEAR to GOD I just saw a brown recluse I swear to GOD. I swear it I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the spider then I looked closer and I swear I swear it was one. Same size. Same everything. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god ohmygofmoomgomg.omg.

If it wasn't a brown recluse it was very definitely a Chilean recluse. Here's a little exerpt from uh wikipedia: The spider is known to have established itself in the Los Angeles area, and infestations have been reported in Vancouver, British Columbia, Cambridge, Massachusetts, and Florida. Soo... Chilean recluse is definitely a possible spider to be walking around here.

I wrote this about 10 minutes ago, when I was still crying. I stopped crying, but I'm still freaked out by the fact that a recluse spider was in my home. :(((((((((((

In two weeks I'll be turning 49.

Every time I think about it I cringe.  Not so much at the thought of 49 ... but what comes after it.  My stomach flops.  My heart starts to pound.  I'm so not ready for this ....

I remember when I thought 50 was soooo old.  I don't feel old - damn it.  I'm looking older for sure.  Hair is getting silver.  Wrinkles are showing up in my face.  This can't be happening ....

Your as old as you feel.  I feel like I want to do this all over.  I want to make different choices.  I want some of my old friends back to help me through this.  I can't do it alone .....

Menopause.  Crying all the time.  Doubting myself.  Forgetfullness.  Fear of what's ahead.  Is the second half of life truly better?  Nothing to look forward to.  Except being alone  .... 

This really isn't happening is it  ..... ?  NO NO NO  No  no  no no no  .....