Monthly Archives: February 2010

First Impressions

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My assistant and I have worked together for ten years.  We would take bullets for each other.  So, when I changed jobs, so did she.

She is young and pushy and doesn’t smile naturally.  And she has no boundaries when it comes to her opinions on my life and the world in general.  Remember she is barely 30, and I am older than 45.  So no shrinking violet.

And still she wonders why one person got testy when she asked about our building IDs for our new firm.  The IDs were supposed to be ready at 1pm.  I asked her how many times she asked.  She said “five”.  It was only 4pm. I asked her, in a Jon Stewart voice, “Really? You’re not sure why she’s angry with you? Really?”

The scary part is that she is mellowing with age.  G-d help me.

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Single Mom for Two Days

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Single parents should get medals for valor and Olympic-level strength and endurance.  This is my first day of a two and one-half day gig, and I am exhausted.   As a rule, I do not consider it morning until the sun has risen.  But, I had to get up at 6am — which is, I note PRE-dawn — in order to wake my adorable sleeping child at 6:30.  He is a morning slacker like me.  He hates getting out of the warm comfy bed during the week (but 6am is noooooo problem on the weekends).  He would not budge.  I had to open the window.  I had to turn on the lights.  I had to tickle him.  Then, I jumped on top of him in a (gentle) body slam.  Still, he resisted.  So, I did something worse than anything else — I started to sing at the top of my lungs as I dragged him out of bed.  Well, that did it.  My voice can make my 7.5 year-old cry out in anguish.  (Hey, I say, if you got a gift, use it.) 

The rest of the morning went smoothly as my child went through the motions with a horror-stricken look on his face.

He and I will be so glad when Mommy comes home from her business trip in California.

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We live in a crowded city

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I went to the gym again tonight as part of my new mind-body balance regimen.  Who am I kidding?  Myself, of course.  But let me dream for another day and then crash-land into Hershey milk chocolate nuggets, take-out food and acne.  For two days, I have breathed calmly and deeply, in with nourishing oxygen, out with bad energy.  It started out great, until I realized I was breathing car exhaust and then started hyperventilating, but I digress.

In my karmatically balanced state, I walked into the locker room, certain I would rise above the bloggable moment.  Then I rationalized even a vegan sneaks a bacon rasher every now again.  I had to entertain this juicy rationalization because I have to report the bloggable moment.  I walked over to the toilet stalls to the left of the sinks.  At the sinks were two women — strangers it appears — one, brushing her teeth (bravo on the oral hygiene), the other shaving her underarms (obviously ANYthing can be done in public nowadays).

Let’s reflect on that.  Oh, and someone was eating a power bar of some sort not 5 feet away.  I guess I should have mentioned that you shouldn’t read this while eating.  My bad.  All that carbon monoxide I was deep-breathing to cleanse my body.  Hmmmm.

I happen to know where the chocolate nuggets are stashed. . . .

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My sister, speaker of the truth

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I bumped into my sister at the gym.  She said very excitedly and pleased, “you don’t look horrible!”  I looked at her.  “Well you started a new job and you don’t look bad. . . ” in a voice that suggested that “not bad” is the new “fabulous”.

Ok, so in the “new normal” of our lives, I am striving for looking “not bad.”  Good thing the floors and walls in the gym are padded.

I made sure to re-apply my lipstick often today.  “Not bad” is just not good enough.

But, seeing my new company ID picture, I know that my sister was just telling me the truth.  So, I realized that not looking horrible is now a goal and “not bad” a compliment.

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Sunday was a great day

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Sunday was my free day before my new job.

POB (partner of blogger) excused me from the otherwise obligatory lunch with her father and a children’s Hebrew music concert at our synagogue.  POB is TOO good to me.  I don’t deserve her but let’s keep that quiet (she hardly ever reads my blog often so I am not giving the secret away).

So, I watched cartoons with our son, went to the gym for a long, long time (I am still hurting Monday night), got a manicure, bought food for dinner with the extended family (my side) and started preparing it.  POB — G-d bless her — likes having my extended family over, even when I have slacked off ALL day. And they love her (what’s not to love?)

As an aside, it is a little bit of heaven to go to the gym without the stresses of having only 45 minutes to sweat, stretch, and be grossed out by those in the locker room.

The family came over and we started to reminisce about seminal moments of our clan gatherings at our aunt’s and uncle’s house in New Rochelle. And how we all thought we should have been consulted when they sold that house. That house was special because of the wonderful memories created there when the older generation was young and tall (and, yep, alive). Younger than their children are now.  It was a great fun to remember and laugh.

After everyone left, we cleaned up and my son was all ready for bed, he said, “Good luck tomorrow, E-Mom, I hope you make new friends and have someone to eat lunch with.”

I didn’t have time to get nervous about going to a new job the next day (ok, I didn’t get nervous until it was time to go to bed). 

It was a great day.

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