I'm in week 11 of a 10 week training cycle. No, you're mind is not playing tricks on you. Yes, I wrote that correctly. One of my sites needed to start later than the other sites so we tacked on an extra week at the end. When this decision was made, back in the sunny everything is great days of summer, it didn't seem like a big deal. Now??? I curse having to dress in "work" clothes, travel 30 minutes to conduct a ONE HOUR training session and then bounce. I'm grateful for the work but I'm the only trainer who's not getting a full 17 day break between Summer Cycle and Fall Cycle. With this last training classes and meetings I need to attend because...sound trumpets....I'm getting interns, I'm getting more like 10 days (including weekend). I know to many of you this sounds like a great big bowl of whine and complain stew but damnit I need my days. I've been busy as hell between work, a new business venture (not ready to announce this one), and I'm still making cards and invitations and writing (yes, just because I'm not blogging doesn't mean I'm not writing). Again, not complaining because its either this life or none at all at the moment. I choose what's behind door number one. Thank you very much.
About a week and a half ago, I received a text message that read something like this: *
This will be the last text message you receive from me. You don't have time to talk or to even answer. I don't want to bother you anymore. Take care.
I read it as I was changing my purse that morning and thought: DAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMNNNN.
I thought for a minute and then responded:
Ummmm, I'm sorry you feel that way. But that's life. Take care of yourself as well.
The text message was from my high school ex-boyfriend's younger brother. A couple of months ago, he made a play for me and I promptly threw a flag on the field. He went back to being my pseudo-little brother and life returned to some semblance of normal. Or so I thought.
Now, I can't lie. Initially, his play for me weirded me out worse than Ron Artest errrr Metta World Peace's blonde hair art on Monday's Dancing With the Stars episode. It took me a minute to get back into the groove of our normal conversation. Eventually, I got over it and myself, and resumed our periodic text convo without any reservations. I thought, "Eh, I don't speak to him often. How difficult can this be?" Famous last words.
This boy (oops, I mean man. he's damn near 30 but I still picture him as a 10 year old asking me to help him with his homework when I came to see his brother but I digress). has the uncanny talent for texting me at the worst possible time. Seriously. I'm speaking during a meeting? Text. I'm out on a date? Text. I'm in my sub-basement training room where I have no phone reception for 4 hours and I'M WORKING? Text (along with the occassional followup "u there?' text). I'm in a bad mood and not answering anyone??? Text. Sometimes I remember to answer but others I don't. Quite frankly, he's not saying much. The convo is as predictable as a soap opera.
He: Hey. How are you?
Me: Heyyyy. I'm good. How are you?
He: Chillin. So what's good? How are you?
Me: Uhhhhhh didn't I just tell you I'm good? LOL (always gotta soften the blow of my sarcasm with an LOL)
He: true true. lol
Yeah that's it. So of course there were times that I didn't entertain this predictable banter. And I will neither confirm or deny that I copied and pasted a response or two. So when I got his tempter tantrum text, I had no previously typed response to copy and paste so I responded as I did. He then responds with sarcasm about how I responded to that message so quickly and blah blah blah, you're too busy. As I'm now sitting on the bus on my way to work, I felt like I was engaged in a battle of words with a 10 year old. I answered one last time - told him he was right to say I was busy. I'm busy living my life and living on MY schedule and not what works for his time frame. I stated once again that I was sorry he felt this way (clearly not an admission of guilt on my part) and I wished him well. He responsed to that message but as usual his timing was off and I was busy.
I'm not saddened or bothered by his decision. Just like his older brother, his time in my life clearly has passed. It's his pronouncement that seems soooooo.....juvenile. It reminds me of the time I told my mother I was running away from home, filled a garbage bag with all my clothes and toys, realizing it was too heavy for my 8 year old self to carry, and my mother calmly sitting on the sofa doing a crossword puzzle and stating " you better put everything back where you found it." We both knew I was acting on emotion just as I'm sure this guy's text message was laced with. maybe I was right all along to look at him as that 10 year old boy with the ketchup stained shirt, asking me to help him with his homework.