Living In The Fast Lane

This is me …..Bag over my shoulder, yoga mat shoved into a re-usable grocery bag, yoga clothes stuffed in a ball (clean) beside the mat, green bra hanging out the side (not supposed to be there but I think it must be hooked to the ball of clothes and I don’t have time to unhook, purse, computer, cell phone check, and with one last flick of the lights (yup the coffee maker is unplugged), I grab by shoes and run in my brand new tights praying I don’t run them, the half of a block to my bus.  It is 6:46 am.

Sometimes when I take a bird’s eye view of me I can actually feel the breeze as I whirl through my day.  Like last night. I had called a “first” planning meeting of a fundraiser I am chairing this year.  It is a three day event and so 6 months planning in advance is what is needed to get the ball rolling.  Now of course there are all the old committee members from last year who will be in attendance and by now they have had at least one year to “get to know me”, but for the “newbie”…well let’s just say, I try to “initiate by fire”, that way there is no surprises down the road when they realize that is really who I am most of the time! So I call the meeting for 6.  I try to run my meetings like a ship I must say.  Start on time, keep it rolling and finish when we said.  I am a busy person and one thing that I realize after 30 plus years of being on committee’s is that most people who volunteer are busy too.  Time is valuable and you are valuable so I don’t want to waste anyone’s time.  But this is me…Phone nail salon on my lunch to ask if they can squeeze me in right after work to “fix” two nails.  I wheedle charmingly because I know that they will have to stay late and it’s not their fault I have to have pretty nails and I have a tendency to bang on the computer keys, no matter how much they chastise me.  Crazy afternoon at work and as the clock inches toward my nail appointment I realize that I need to start telling people now “I promise you, you are my first priority tomorrow morning”.  The way I look at it is I have no business being late for an appointment I wheedled for.  Throwing my laptop in a bag, I grab my coat and run (this time 3 inch heels on) for my bus.  Whew.  4:45 exactly as I woosh in the door. 

Now here comes the hard part.  I absolutely love having pretty nails.  Mostly it is because I have the smallest hands of anyone I know and like the 3 inch heals that make me feel like I actually am 5’5, the nails give me an illusion of elegance (well that’s as long as you don’t look closely at the slight wrinkles starting to form J.  BUT if somehow they could speed up the process it would be sooooo much more relaxing!  Two chipped nails.  Honestly if I could have faked my way through the next couple of weeks till my regular appointment I would have, but no such luck.  I have two events and many meetings over the next two weeks and that is not an option.  The clock is ticking slowly toward 5:15 before she finally puts on the last coat of shine. I tip 50% because I can’t for the life of me figure out how someone can make a living at 5$ a nail and it taking 30 minutes.  Ok I have 45 minutes till my meeting and it is only a 5 minute bus ride away (yes, I know I could walk the 10 blocks but seriously, in these heels), so what can I cross off my shopping list.  Shoes are at the top.  It’s either buy a new pair of shoes or take a bagful to the cobbler.  I have exactly one pair that has both heels intact at the moment and unless I plan on wearing black and white for the next month, I need new shoes (notice I didn’t consider that actually gathering up that bag of shoes for the cobbler might be the better option – Yup that is me on quick fixes.

Shoe store, 3^rd floor.  How long can it possibly take for an elevator to come down 3 floors for me.  Finally.  As I stride firmly for the shoe store, I pause to look at the display of “Frozen”, Disney’s newest animated feature.  My almost 4 year old granddaughter would die for all of this stuff. Suddenly I hear a voice.  2 for 10 dollars. “WHAT! Your kidding me I exclaim!”.  And that 40 dollar frozen sleeping bag, how much is it? 10 bucks she says. “WHAT! Your kidding me I exclaim!” again. Pretty soon I am laden with two lawn chairs for toddlers, a sleeping bag, my computer, my purse, my coat (cause it’s too darn hot in this mall) and I now have to run for the bus and forget those darn shoes.  However, I did arrive on time. And as for those first timers’ meeting me, they just kinda sat back open mouthed while I dumped my cool purchases, gave them a rundown of my shopping expiation, explain a fundraiser I came up with at 3 am the morning before, did a quick overview of my vision of the next 6 months and then with a great exhale, introduced myself.

Sometimes I actually observe other’s reactions of me.  I can see their wheels turning.  How does this woman manage to do all of this stuff and somehow not rocket into space.  Drugs? She looks sober.  But then I forget about what others are thinking about me and I really do get down to business and 45 minutes into the hour we are wrapping up early and I am going home! I can just taste the feel of my couch, my fire, my favorite tv show.  Peace.  Someone offers to drive me home and I jump at the chance.  I chatter all the way home, knowing that in only a few short moments, silence, beautiful silence is going to welcome me. Waving goodbye as I turn the lock on the door.  I am satisfied, it has been an invigorating, fun, challenging day and I love it. I feel good!

 I drop my many bags at the back door and suddenly I feel it.  I feel that the weight that I carried on my shoulders before I went into that meeting was somehow lighter than it was before.  I looked expectantly and the one bag that I need to see more than anything was conspicuously absent.  My computer.  Not just MY computer.  My WORK computer.  The one that I will need to report an incident report to the security office and acknowledge that I lost my computer.  The pit in my stomach is deafening.  Of course, there is the chance it is at the meeting space.  And so with my newfound anticipated evening of relaxation flying out the window I walk 4 blocks, take two busses and finally find myself in the meeting space, face to face with…yup my computer! 

As I let the breath I had been holding slowly exhale as I lean against the wall.  All that adrenaline that had been coursing through my body for the past 14 hours is gone.  I really do whisper words of gratitude to my God (more about that one another day), and I sy, ok Janet…it time.  It is time to take a breath, time to wait patiently for the first bus of the first leg of my journey home.  It is time to think that maybe there was a reason that you need to enjoy this moment instead of resenting what might have been. 

That’s what I have come to realize about my life.  I am a whirlwind and to be honest, I like being a whirlwind.  I love challenge, I love life.  I embrace it and new ideas on the turn of a dime, and when I commit to following through on those ideas, I am your gal. But I also believe in this higher power.  The one that helps me accomplish so much but knows when it’s time for me to STOP.  To smell the roses as they say.  To listen to someone else.  To know that my plan, always intertwined with expectations of some sort, has to be able to evolve.  And I have to be willing to let it. 

So as I wait for my second bus, along comes Connie.  73 years young, hunched over, a woman whose past mistakes has made it difficult for her family to forgive her, but who every day gets up and does something.  Who shares an encouraging word.  Who talks about gratitude.  And here I be; sitting beside Connie for the rest of my trip, knowing I am exactly where I am supposed to be.