I had lunch with a woman who informed me the Blood Wolf Moon was going to be visible at 8:30 pm that night. I typically forget these events, and I decided I would see this one. The time was right. That means I would still be up!
I looked outside and could not see the moon. I went outside and could not see the moon. I checked again at 9 pm and could not see the moon.
At breakfast this morning, my friend asked me if I had seen it as she praised its beauty. I told her what I had done and that I had not seen it. She saw it at 11:30 pm. I was asleep.
I missed it again.
I was asked to participate in two events on a Saturday. They were the same day as the Women’s March, so I declined. Attending marches has been my priority, going back to Washington, DC years ago.
Three days before the March, I was reflecting on my commitments, which I accept full responsibility for. Work, meetings, mixers, lunches. I decided I wanted a day for myself. I informed my friends I would not be joining them for the March.
I spent Saturday by myself. It was worth it.
I was on the computer a bit before going to the gym. When I returned, I was unable to get it to work. I pressed the button, nothing happened. I tried again. Nothing. I called my IT guy and left a message. I got the receipts and box for my computer because it is two years old and still insured. I was separated from the world, or so it felt. I needed to cancel a lunch date to take my computer in. I plugged in my cell phone to access whatever I could that I know how to do. I brought a book in to read since I lost access to my games.
I called Julie, as I usually do in the morning. She said the computer had likely gone to sleep. She told me what to do, and I followed her directions. It worked!! She said, “Now to know what to do next time.” I said, “Assuming I remember.” She said, “Call me.”
That I will remember.
I found this accurate post:
Left-handers are wired into the artistic half of the brain, which makes them imaginative, creative, surprising, ambiguous, exasperating, stubborn, emotional, witty, obsessive, infuriating, delightful, original, but never, never dull.
I own all of the above.
Since I only write and eat left-handed and do everything else (scissors, blackboard writing, bowling, pitching, etc.) right-handed, I am ambidextrous. More adjectives are due me.
I was on a return flight from Los Angeles. There was a boy around two years old seated across from me. During the flight, one of the adults sitting next to him talked to the woman behind me. It was evident they were traveling together. Near the end of the trip, the boy referred to this woman as Mommy. The whole journey, Andrew (I learned his name) stayed in his seat, spoke softly, played, munched and drank.
When I was getting off of the plane, I said to the mother, “Great job raising him.” She smiled and said, “You don’t know how meaningful it is to hear a comment like that.”
But, I do. We complain when children are too noticeable on our flights, but we do not compliment when they are a pleasure.
Positive regard. I encourage it.
I was at a business meeting the other day, and we were reviewing a fundraiser we had done. I noticed that the term “older women” was used often to describe many of the people who had been very helpful and contributory to the fundraiser. After I heard the term a few times, I made a comment, noting that the age bracket was not necessary to stipulate in this context.
I know, you are shocked that I said anything.
I missed free breakfast at my business group meeting last week. I was having a colonoscopy, so most understand why I was unable to attend the meeting. I will return to day. Should I order a breakfast and pay for it just to compensate for the once a month one I missed? I never eat breakfast anyway. It is just the idea.
Coffee will be my order. Sometimes I am able to ruminate about minor things.
I was scheduled for a 45-minute phone consultation with the anesthesia department. They were to call between 9-11 am. I arranged clients accordingly. They did not call. I called them. “Oh, my, I need to talk to the supervisor; you were supposed to be the first call.” Another call comes in. It is the person I was scheduled with, apologizing for being late. We went over the prep and arrangements.
I chose to remain optimistic that their timing will be accurate during surgery.
When I turned forty, I decided to not refer to people by their titles anymore (Dr., Mr., Mrs., Ms., Professor, Father, etc.). I was an adult and we could all be on a first name basis. I have followed this decision. I encourage my clients to call me Natalie, not Dr. Gelman. I respect whatever choice they make.
Last night I went to a small social gathering to interact with the new Rabbi of the Temple I belong to. A woman asked her what her first name was. She replied, “Rabbi.” She clarified that she would not share her first name because she wants to be called Rabbi in any setting that has to do with her professional role.
I respect her decision. I will not be close to her.
Yesterday was Sunday. I had no plans until noon. I began by making baby back ribs. Then I washed the upholstery on my sofa; there had been a couple of stains. That meant adding some laundry to the wash. Then I washed the windows on the inside. Then I wiped the front of the refrigerator. Then I went to Rhythmix for a special event. Then I came home and read. Fixed dinner. Discovered that my DVR screwed up my recordings and spent the remainder of the evening on the phone with AT&T, the second time this week.
I went to the gym this morning and worked off stress.