My emotions have ran the gammet this past week; even more so since the announcement that few saw coming. Granted, the big decision has been playing ball with me for some time now, and up until last week, I had always won. Many debates as to why I should, and why I should not, have been voiced. Lovingly voiced. Time, and time again...
And now, here I sit, stirring the mushrooms in my coffee with the cinnamon stick that sits lazily in the coffee cup until needed. I'm tired. Very tired. Not only did what I thought to be allergies/sinus issues, turn into a full blown head & chest cold, sleep also, has escaped me for nigh on a week now. I'm tired. Really tired. Yet, I force my body to come under subjection and move forward. Except for this moment. Needing a chair to take the weight of my body off my feet, at least for a moment, I chose the tried and true; the faithful office chair. I do love my office. My study. My hide-away. I do.
Still coughing up a lung and a half, I navigated the back-and-forth of STAY OUT OF MY SALON messages over the weekend. Yet, the messages just weren't taking hold, or they hit more than one wall and was took out, never to live. I'm a person that always crosses my "t's" and dot my "i's". It's the best I can do to preserve my way of life. Yet the unexpected has a way of happening, regardless of how hard one tries to escape it. And therein lies my distrust of humanity. Even my own humanity...sometimes.
To say I am super happy that I installed a Foscam (that's a story for another time) inside my studio, is an understatement of mega proportions. As I think about the ramifications of what would have happened, had it not been on duty yesterday, makes me take deep breaths of gratitude, when I can get one. A deep breath, that is. That sweet little addition caught workers hired to upgrade a few things (floors & mirrors), in the process of taking my salon apart, piece by piece. Most likely, I startled the begeebers out of them when my groggy, hoarse & raspy voice (that gurgled and sneezed occasionally from irritated nasal passages), came yelling through the small voice command center. "STOP! WHY ARE YOU IN MY ROOM?!!" I tried calming myself, as I knew it wasn't their fault. They were there to do their job as ordered, and with a tower of jewelry in their careful hands, they froze in place. It appears that I wasn't the only one who has cut the cord...if you know what I mean. It's likely you don't, 'cause I'm not always clear.
I have spoken to several of the workers, off and on, during the time they have been in the studios, tearing up and replacing. They seem really nice, so I'm kinda sorry I yelled at them. But I wasn't sure if the thing (the Foscam) really worked or not. It was the first time I had to use it. So I yelled. I was suppose to, right? They showed me their work orders, so I had to be the mean suite owner, and assure them I had covered the confirmation of putting my studio renovation on hold until I moved out, aka/closed my business, and to please contact their supervisor.
Did I mention how tired I am? Anyway...I had to push my body out the door and head to the salon, a 7 minute drive that happened in 3. Maybe 4. They had indeed stopped removing, and had gotten everything back in the studio by the time I arrived. All I had to do was reposition and re-clean what had been moved out. I survived...
So...back to paragraph ONE of this rabbit trail:
The deed that had been planned to run so smoothly, the RETIREMENT on my 78th birthday announcement, had suddenly taken a deadly turn.
Not a good turn. The social media content had launched before it was suppose to since I didn't "schedule" it. My fault. Kinda.
When I am deep in thought,
deep in the mix of whatever is needing done;
to be distracted in the middle of it, well...I can't be held responsible for what transpires.
So, that happened last Sunday. Throbbing headache, blurry eyes, and achy body had to move quickly. Something my brain wasn't ready for. The emails had to be sent (since social media had been notified) without being as complete as I had planned. I suppose another email blast is in order for a bit later.
Something (business room mistake), I suppose, had to be added to the mix just to make this whole thing a memory hard to forget. Gotta love those memories. The good, the not-so-good, the undesirable.
I am soooooo tired of laying in bed, but now I think it's calling me again. But first, where's the Tylenol?
As always, here you will find me...in Mary's World