The week that was

I have been feeling out-of-sorts for a few days and couldn't figure out why. I spent several days this week feeling uncharacteristically emotional. Maybe it's because five different people challenged me to "Words with Friends" on Facebook and I am losing every. single. game. At one point, one of my letter trays contained six E's and a T. I mean, fuck my life. Seriously. So yeah, I laid down the word TEEN and racked up five points, yes I did. See, everyone thinks that English majors rock at Scrabble but the dirty little secret is that many of us are painfully bad at it. Scrabble (and Words with Friends, which is the same thing) is a game of strategy and math, not vocabulary (I felt a little better when I heard the hosts of A Way with Words confess that they are not good at Scrabble). So, while I am laying down awesome words like malaria and getting very few points, my friend Kate slaps a Q on the board somewhere (without even using a U, mind you) and gets hundreds of thousands of points from that single letter. I'm going to key her car next time I see her.

I think one source of my general feeling of unease this week stemmed from the tattoo (which itches like a mofo, by the way - nobody warned me about that part).  Getting the tattoo brought a lot of stuff to the surface that I generally prefer to keep tucked away. The tattoo represents the very worst thing that ever happened to me (four miscarriages) and the very best thing that ever happened to me (my beautiful, smart, funny, stubborn daughter, who came into my life via the blessing of adoption). My friend Rachel called me the other day and told me she loved the tattoo and that it's "the perfect tattoo."  I was happy to hear her say that, as I haven't had the most enthusiastic response from some of the people who are closest to me. I don't regret getting it, not even a tiny bit.

I think I just needed a little time to let my feelings settle back to where they were. I'm feeling a lot better now. Or maybe it's just the built-in euphoria that Friday brings. It's been a long week. Earlier in the week I had one of those "I've lost my mind" moments, which seem to be occurring with an alarming frequency now. The kid and I are flying to DC at the end of the month.  My middle sister was going to fly out to visit us, but she realized it would be cheaper if she bought us plane tickets (2 of us vs 5 of them) to visit her instead. She sent me a check to cover 3/4 of the airfare and I took care of buying the tickets. The plan was to fly there on March 28th and fly back home on Monday April 2nd (P will stay behind with the dogs). I put those dates on my calendar. I submitted a vacation request to my boss accordingly. Everything was all set . . . until I happened to look at my email confirmation from the airlines. We are flying back on Tuesday the 3rd. My only workable theory is that my other personality booked the tickets and she really wanted to stay an extra day. I really have no idea. I used to be so organized.

Anyway, the weekend's here. Woot!  I'm headed to yoga in the morning and then I have a date night planned for tomorrow night (yes, with my husband). Wait until the babysitter finds out we have four dogs at our house now - I really need to give that girl a raise. Speaking of yoga, I went to class on Tuesday and some dude actually fell asleep during savasana. I always wondered if such a thing could happen and apparently the answer is yes. I could hear him snoring softly within seconds of lying down. Keep in mind that one's yoga mat is only a few millimeters thick and that there is a wooden floor right under that. It's not like fluffy pillows and cushions magically shoot out from the walls when it comes time for savasana. At the risk of being sexist, all I could think about was something my mom once said: "Men and babies fall asleep as soon as their head hits the pillow, because they don't have anything to think about." The instructor teased him about it after class and he was a good sport, though.

And now, if you'll excuse me, my bad-ass tattoo and I are headed for the bars the grocery store. 

Namaste