The day started with a bang. We overslept - always a good start to the day. I got J to school on time, then realized I'd left my purse at home, so I had to go back and get it. Traffic in downtown Dallas, and most especially in our parking garage, was like idiots on parade - I just love it when you've got one really.poky.person at the front of a line of about fifteen cars all trying to get into the garage, and that one poky person must try to squeeze his or her car into EVERY.ITTY.BITTY.SPACE they find. Whoops, the car doesn't fit, let me back out and p-o-k-e around to a lower level to try again. I'm thinking, just go down to level F already, there's always plenty of parking there! So, the morning was off to a zippy start, and I was wishing for a redo by about 9 AM.
Then I found out I was going to be priority one for taking calls for our sister team while they were out on their team outing. I HATE taking calls. Loathe it with a deep and undying passion. I do it because I have to, because it's part of my job, but it's sure not my favorite thing, and I really don't want to be a priority one any more often than I absolutely must. (I'm usually a priority four for our team, and I take very few calls, which suits me just fine.) And naturally, this was the afternoon the crazy man called. A lot. I was hung up on two times, a couple of my other teammates were hung up on a couple of times, and finally, the third time I got the call, he let me transfer him to a manager to discuss his issue. He then proceeded to hang up on her. Good times!
I've made three batches of tarts tonight: Lavender Flowers, Fudge Brownie Buttercream, and Wildberry Crisp. J now wants to help me make tarts. I've let him mix color and/or fragrance into the melted wax, but only with very close supervision. My busy, easily distracted little boy and a pot of melted wax just screams of the possibility of disaster if I turn my head for a second, so I don't. But I hate to tell him a flat-out "no" when he so very much wants to help. Thankfully, he loses interest after just a little bit, and I can breathe again.
Darling, I forgive you everything,
Anything is better than to be alone
In the end I guess I had to fall,
Always find my place among the ashes
Can you imagine being so afraid of being alone that you'd make a really bad decision? I think that's what K has done. I think he let his fear of being alone override the red flags he may have seen when he was dating A, and married her anyway, and I'm afraid that now he's realizing he's not happy, he's made a mistake. I may not be married to him anymore, but I don't want to see him miserable (and I also don't want to see J miserable when it comes time to spend time with his father). I hope he can find the wherewithal to either make things work (which would also require A's participation - I know from experience that one person can't fix a marriage alone) or to make a break if things can't be fixed. I hope his worries over being alone don't lead him to stay in a situation where he isn't happy. Life is both too short and too long to let yourself be miserable.