June 25, 2002

The things I thought about today.

Every morning at 5:20 the alarm goes off and Calvin gets up. Unless he nudges me to get up and re-set the alarm for 20 or 30 minutes later. He claims he "doesn't know how" and for some reason never remembers the night before if he can sleep in a few extra minutes the next morning - which all depends on which jobsite he's going to the next day. Now, we've gone round and round with this one, and I have taken him through the step-by-step process of how, exactly, one sets the time on the alarm clock - oh, at least three times now. But he claims that he can't follow that process when he's 3/4 asleep (thereby prompting the argument that he should REMEMBER to SET THE CLOCK the NIGHT BEFORE). And, really, if the alarm clock gets screwed up and he's late for work, he'd really rather be able to blame me.

Anyway.

I roll over and squinch my eyes shut and try to tell my body clock that just because the sun is shining, it's actually 5:20, not 7:00, and I'm not going to be late for work. Calvin gets up, turns the shower on, and lets it run for a good 10 minutes (hello, drought?) before he gets in. I think he makes the coffee then, but really, I'm asleep so as long as the coffee's ready when I'm ready to have a cup, I don't care when it gets made.

A part of my mind is awake during his morning routine. I have a kind of countdown to when he's going to come into the bedroom, turn on the light, turn on the TV, and flop down on the bed to read the paper and drink his coffee. I hear the shower turn off and know I only have about ten minutes left. I hear the hair dryer going and know that I have only about five minutes left. I hear the door open and know I only have about 20 seconds left. The room brightens and the TV starts up ("Good Morning Arizona!" - and if the first person I hear is the damned weather man, I know I'm going to have a bad day). Still I protest, half asleep, trying to convince myself that I'm dreaming about the morning routine and it's not really happening, and when I open my eyes it will really only be 2:37 a.m.

Depending on the mood Calvin's in, he'll either tickle my back or kiss my cheek and try to get me to keep him company, or read his paper in silence and grunt at me in monosyllables if I happen to wake up and engage him in conversation.

This morning he was in a monosyllable grunting mood. I can't say as I blame him. I'm monosyllabically grunty myself. Both of us are wishing we took this week off. But then, when are we *not* wishing that we'd taken that day/week/month/lifetime off from work?

He leaves at about 6:30, at which point I either get up and get into the shower, or sleep for another half-hour and then get into the shower. It all depends on if I feel like going at my morning routine slowly, with time to eat breakfast and dork around on the internet before leaving for work; or if I want to go full-throttle and run out the door before the hairspray is even dry. Either way, it takes me exactly 33 minutes (how's that for anal?) to go from just waking up and getting into the shower, to ready to walk out the door. Living five minutes away from work has its advantages.

********************

Calvin has taken to setting up the camera on the computer to take automatic pictures of the room. Unbeknownst to me, until a couple of days ago when he giggled to me about it. The weenis has been spying on me! Which thought alternately irritated and amused me. Irritated me because, hey, I could be picking my nose or something, and who wants pictures like that around? Amused because, knowing my morning routine, he certainly didn't catch any photos of me doing anything interesting. And no, he had no malicious intent. I think he was just goofing around with it and thought it would be fun to see what I do during my morning routine when he's not there.

I'm sure he was bored to tears.

Anyway, I'm on to him. This morning as I was sitting at the computer and checking my e-mail, I noticed that the aperture on the camera was open. Lo and behold the program was running, but the only pictures it had managed to capture were of himself getting the camera set up.

Foiled again, my poor aspiring villain.

********************

I have some things to say about being single versus being in a relationship. Throughout this "marriage month of June", NPR has been having segments on Tuesday mornings about relationships, the single life, marriage, and the opinions of men and women regarding such things. Today's segment was about women who were single by choice.

First of all, it irritated me that it's referred to that way. "Single by choice". As if they have to defend themselves so people don't assume that they're single because they're ugly, single because they're a bitch, or single because they're unwantable. They have to justify that they're single because they *choose to be*. Why should they have to defend it? It does women an injustice that society cultivates the thought that a woman should be pitied if she is single. This society is so geared toward the thought that a woman is not fulfilled in life unless she's in a relationship.

Heavens, we still have a long way to go.

The flip side:

The women they interviewed in this segment speak about how they like their privacy, they like their freedom, and they like the ability to pursue their careers and interests without being "hindered" by a man. That if they were in a relationship there would be a certain percentage of their time, efforts, and abilities that would be hampered by the "duties" of being in a relationship.

Now, they are very well entitled to their own opinions. They are very much entitled to living their lives and setting their priorities the way they see fit. A person's personal happiness is their own to achieve, in any way that is successful for them.

What I was annoyed about was their inference that women who are in a relationship "by choice" are less than they could have been. That they're not able to pursue their own interests, or be successful in whatever career they choose. Even that they are made less by the fact that they *can't* pursue a career fully, if at all. They are relying on someone else, or simply the status of being attached, to create their identity for them.

What a load of bull. One should not make sweeping statements. They were not representing the opinions of single women everywhere, I'm sure.

It's not a matter of being in a relationship or not, it's a matter of either being in the *right* relationship, or living the single life that you enjoy and not resenting the fact that you *are* single. A stance I've always vocally supported. People's needs are different. Those who like to be single shouldn't look down on those who prefer the companionship of a life partner. Those who are in a relationship shouldn't pass judgment on those who choose to be single and box them into snide reasons for *why* they might be single.

I happen to be in a very liberating relationship, one that allows me to pursue opportunities and interests freely. One that is not a burden, and one that allows me my self-identity. It wasn't always that way, and when I woke up to that fact in my previous relationship, I got out of it.

But even after that (very!) negative experience, I still felt like I was a person who wanted to be in a relationship - the *right* relationship. I was not ashamed of that then, and I'm not ashamed of that now.

People are so sensitive and defensive about what makes them happy. I don't get it myself. There is no one true way to live, other than just to be the best person you can be and try not to hurt anybody. Simple as that.

There. I'm off my soapbox.

*******************

A guy came out of the men's room as I was coming out of the lady's room. He was wearing a hot blue t-shirt, tan shorts, and pink socks.

Dude.

******************

I just got done writing a letter to Michael. It so sucks that he won't be at the wedding, and he's as heartbroken about it as we are. It just won't be the same without him, and the memories of the event will always be tinged because of it.

Crap.

*******************

I've never liked to be the center of attention. I've like group activities, where lots of things are going on and everyone's having a good time, but I've never wanted to be the reason *why* everyone is having a good time. Dude, that's waaay too much responsibility for me. I'm just not a performer, I guess. Limelight is good for other people, but my skin is sensitive to it.

Yes, I recognized that as a dumb analogy. Hush, you.

A couple of weeks ago I mentioned that a friend from work held a luncheon for me, to which people arrived and brought gifts and yummy cake, and I was made much of. It was nice, and I was grateful, and everyone was very generous. I enjoyed myself very much, and felt good that so many people cared about me and what was going on in my life.

After that, I learned that some ladies from work were throwing a bachelorette party for me. Again, I was pleased and flattered that they would want to go through the trouble and expense for me. I like the folks I work with well, and I think we get along great, but I didn't know I was classified into the kind of "like" that translates into "do things for and hang out with outside of work". I was a little nervous about the whole "center of attention" thing, but in the end I had a blast, as did everyone else, and I consider the events surrounding my impending marriage to be contributing to the whole positive atmosphere it holds.

So. I was happy and feeling like I didn't deserve all this spoiling, and feeling like I had a lot more friends out there who considered themselves to *be* my friends, and not just co-workers, than I thought.

Yesterday I sat down and had a 1:1 with my boss. I was explaining to her my vacation plans, and how I planned to take a half day off on Thursday to indulge in a min-spa day (facial, manicure, pedicure, de-piddertating), and be off the entire day Friday and all of next week.

I didn't get beyond my plans for Thursday. "What?" she says, "You want to take Thursday afternoon off?"

Blink.

"Yes," I said, "I talked about this with you weeks ago. You said it was okay..."

She starts to look flustered. "You *can't* take Thursday afternoon off."

I thought she was concerned about the mandatory meeting that *her* boss called for that afternoon. "No, it's okay," I said to her, "Mike said I could miss that meeting..."

She continued to look flustered. "Why, what's wrong?" I asked her.

"Dammit, it's supposed to be a surprise. We're throwing a wedding shower for you on Thursday afternoon."

I was floored. I mean, for heaven's sake, how spoiled can a girl be before her wedding?!? It was my turn to be flustered. "But... but you guys have already thrown me *two* parties and done so much for me already! Really, it's too much..."

She patted my hand. "Oh, stop it. It's because we love you, Laura," she said.

Well, gosh. How I repay them all for this generosity is beyond me. But I'll think of something. Chintzy souvenirs from San Francisco just won't cut it.

It sure makes a girl feel lurved, though.

*********************

I just had onion rings with my lunch. Definitely an item that is not on my diet.

The guilt, sometimes it feels so gooooood. The siren call of crunchy, greasy, onion-y goodness cannot be ignored. This gal just ain't that strong.

<-Previous

Next->

Original content belongs to ME. Exceptions are noted. Stealing really isn't recommended, or necessary.
©Laura Charon 2000 - 2002.