I tend to anthromorphize just about everything. I talk to birds, to my pets, to pieces of furniture that jump out and bite my legs when I cut corners too closely. Days of the week and seasons are not safe either, (In fact, I've broken up with Monday more times than I can count, and he keeps coming back for more, the persistent bastard.) and my facebook feed often has a bon mot for the current day and a warning/plea for the upcoming.
I wore all black to work on this late winter workday, as one is wont to do in winter when brain cells and clean laundry are both at a premium.
BUT, along with the black sweater, black tights, black pumps, I wore a bright, salmon-pink lace skirt. It's one of my springiest, girliest things, in fact it's 100% ridiculous in its girliness, and it seemed just the thing to tempt spring to come just a wee bit closer.
I wasn't alone - several girls in the office were wearing bright colored dresses to ward off the rainy greyness of this past Tuesday.
Here's the thing: somehow? IT WORKED.
The skies cleared this morning. There was new birdsong and some sense of possibility on the breeze.
The temperature warmed up into the 50's. (The sun didn't even set until 5:59pm!)
I spent the morning doing something that I usually abhor: getting organized. I chucked a drawer's worth of old paper, filed what I needed, and got ready for the summer. I wrote a bit.
I circumnavigated the Beltway (well, Chevy Chase...that counts, right? It's a whole other STATE!) and had lunch with a mentor whom I adore, who gave me the best, most inappropriate compliment a girl could ask for. (He used to aspire to be a dirty old man. He's fundamentally too sweet to succeed, but I do love the attempts.)
A little more work, which included great conversations with treasured colleagues. I'm reminded again and again how much I enjoy the people with whom I work, and how fortunate I am to have a work family, not just co-workers.
And then? I had my @ss handed to me handily at the gym. My new trainer is upbeat and giggly and fun, but the combination of her focus on form (when suddenly everything that used to be easy is actually really difficult because you've been doing it incorrectly for, oh, forever? HUMBLING. I've thankfully never had to really do PT, but I cannot imagine how difficult it must be. Dang, y'all.) and her love of grrrrr lifting (my term - when you start lifting at one weight, and a trainer surreptitiously ups the weight for the next two sets.) makes her a great fit for me. I'm loving the discipline, and I'm especially loving the mental training she's doing - she doesn't let me punk out when I think I'm going to die. She'll spot me, help me if it gets too heavy (which I HATE, but if I can't do it myself then fine...something to work towards), and is ok with me not liking her sometimes.
Add into the mix some fun emails and FB posts from writerly pals and long-lost buddies; a Pandora station that found a song called "Polish Girl" (WHAAA??); a full pot of coffee at the office; a chat with mom and a detour through wildest suburban Maryland.
It was a good day.
And now? I've made (and eaten) a reasonably healthy dinner. (You know the workout was rough when I can barely lift my glass of wine...WHERE IS MY STRAW??) On the docket for this evening? A dog walk. Some writing time. And maybe, just maybe? A bath. Aaahhhh...
Wednesdays are not usually my pals. But today? We're totally besties.
(Thursday? I'm putting the challenge out there - we don't traditionally get along, even though I was born on a Thursday. You might not be able to top today, but I'd LOVE for you to try. See you tomorrow morning?)
Tenor Alasdair Kent in the Spotlight
1 hour ago