Boy, do I have some Tales to Tell...
When you think about it, getting rid of a pair of pants is really insignificant. But isn't it? If they no longer fit, then it's not as hard. But what if they still do? Should the act really be that difficult?
I have been wearing this specific pair of jeans for a long time. Okay, long time for jeans for me means five years. I bought them five years ago. I bought two pairs of them at the same time because they were so comfortable. I can't remember but these may be the jeans that I bought after staying away from denim for almost three years. I did everything in them. I loved them. I still have both pairs.
But, alas, I think it may be time to get rid of both. One pair became threadbare at the knees and a hole appeared one day. That rendered them unwearable to work. I hung on to that pair because I reasoned with myself that I could still wear them when just futzing around town. I don't. I've never been the type of guy to wear ripped jeans. I never have and never will be. But there they are, hanging in my closet.
The second pair held up a bit longer but this past Christmas Day, as I walked around Chinatown for dinner, I noticed how they just were slightly "overused". They just hung wrong. They bunched differently at the ankle. They felt tired. I got home, took them off, began folding them, and realized that they had become threadbare in the crotch area. Actually, they are basically see-through in the crotch. Not something I really want.
So, it's time. Time to let them go. I hate this feeling. They're just jeans. Let them go. There are more out there. Many more. Ones that are not worn out. Ones that are not falling apart. Ones that are comfortable. Some that fit better. Some that make you look adorable. Some that make you feel sexy. They're just jeans. They're not that important. Or are they? Later.
I'm going to ramble on but since it is my blog, I can.
The husband left yesterday morning for Philadelphia. He is spending Christmas with his Mom & Dad. I am choosing to stay home. Trust that there was much to be said about me making that decision. But, I am 37 (and about to turn 38) and I don't need to explain why I am choosing to not go to the "in-laws" for these holiday-things they choose to celebrate. I will miss him, especially since he won't be back until Wednesday afternoon.
Cute story: his mother told his grandma that I was not coming for Christmas. Grandma was agitated and was worried that we were breaking up. We had a good laugh. We're too old to break up. Plus, we are still too in love. Sick, no? Plus, he makes me laugh so hard and so much. Which is all that really matters. Really. Everything else is tertiary.
But, now I have the entire place to myself. Unless you count the needy cat. Except she isn't too needy right now. She's passed out on top of the love seat in the den. Oblivious to the conspicuous consumption happening in the world right now. Good for her. All she needs is Fancy Feast
and my love.
Speaking of consumption, aforementioned husband bought me an iPod nano with video
. I spent all of last night and most of today putting songs on it. No videos and no plans to do videos. Maybe some pictures. Mostly about the music. To say that I spent 80% of my last 24 hours downloading songs would probably underestimate what I did. I did head to the gym for a back, shoulder, and bicep workout. Also knocked out 3 miles on the stationery bike. The bike is my new thing. Going for 30 minutes eventually. That is after 20-30 minutes on the treadmill. The new iPod nano should help. Woo hoo.
Speaking of the gym: been hitting it quite hard. Getting looks from some of the regular muscle boys. One asked me to spot him. He was explaining what I had to do then abruptly stopped. Gave a smirk and said, "You probably know what to do better than I do." I hope they all realize that I fake my way through most of this shit. Except the stretching part. Now that, I get a ton of stares from everyone. Although it could be the tight, supplex shorts
and muscle tee
. Who knows. Truthfully, who cares. I am seeing and feeling the results.
Had a brownie that Mike brought home from work. A client sent a bunch as a thank you for the business gift. Did not sit well in the stomach. Didn't sit long but didn't sit well. I have been eating extremely differently lately. At least 90% of my intake is plant-based. Very little animal product. I checked last week and most of the products that I eat are either organic or organically-grown. Don't do it on purpose. Working for you-know-who helps. Still eat meat but only buy it at work to avoid hormones and antibiotics. It scares me that people eat some of the food they eat. I can't even imagine ingesting fast food. You see what the brownie did.
Had to buy one gift this year since I could not get out of the Secret Santa thing Mike's family does. Thank goodness I got my sister. Supposed to be $50 or under. Got her something at Lululemon
. Nothing there is under $50. At least nothing I like. I wonder if I fit in a women's size 12? There are some really cute things. Plus I am getting leaner again (see above). Except the shoulders are getting wider. Oh well. I do fit their men's medium quite well. Again, the salesman kept complementing me on something I tried on. So I bought it. He probably wanted a sale. Even I liked my ego stroked once in a while. Especially by a hottie half my age.
Christmas. Lunch with my sister and some co-workers. Thought I would take on the theme that Jewish friend offered. She says they always have Chinese food on Xmas since they tend to be the only places open. So, I am making my own versions of various Chinese dishes. Let's call it Chinese-fusion. I hope the Meat Department at work ordered pork belly like I asked them to. I may have to find a suitable alternative. Here's to hoping.
My sister and I are having Christmas Eve dinner together. Ham, mac-n-cheese, and salad. Yum. Sounds like the start of a nice tradition. I'm supposed to bring the ham. May bring some dessert as well. Oh yeah... Happy New Year to all. Later.
One of the best things about who I work for is that if we call out from work, we don't have to tell them why. They aren't even supposed to ask. There is a certain level of leadership that can show concern but, legally, we do not have to give an excuse for a one-day absence. We do have certain guidelines for calling out and we are very strict about them. But, if you follow them, and they are easy to follow, they are absolutely so easy.
So, no more fake coughs over the phone. No sniffling. No fake scratchy throats. Nothing. Just a simple, "Hi, I am not coming in today." They will ask what time you are supposed to be in and, if unknown, what department you work for. But that's it. Isn't that nice?
So, I called out this morning. Truthfully, I just wanted an extra day off from work to recharge my mind. And I had nothing heavy planned for the work day. So, today will be all about me. I think I'll hit the gym, do some personal shopping, have a slice of pizza for lunch, do some laundry, and do some household chores that need to be finished. Glorious. Later.
This morning, after getting up from a night of drinks and food with these two
, I felt slightly under the weather. I had some breakfast, some coffee
, popped some Wellness Formula
, and chewed on some Zicam
. I was hoping to stave off the cold I felt coming on.
I headed to work. As I walked into the store, I couldn't help but feel limp. It was that moment that I thought, "I wonder if this is just a hangover?" My next thought was, "Oh lord, let it be a cold because that would mean I am losing my tolerance to alcohol."
Is that bad? Later.
A long time ago, I told my parents and sister that I was no longer taking part of the madness of the holidays. They accepted it reluctantly but accepted it. I also told them that I would rather celebrate our family after the holiday madness had died down. So, we always got together in February, the month between my sister's birth month and mine. It worked out well. Our time together was not rushed, nor did it feel forced, and we all really enjoyed just being in each other's company. No worries about presents or the such.
Then, I met Mike and joined another family. One who celebrates the holidays... routinely and traditionally. I played along. Until this Christmas. The other day, my manager asked me to work later on X'mas eve because she wanted to leave early. She also asked me to come in the day after X'mas as an extra pair of "supervisory" hands. I agreed and realized that I would not be going to my "in-laws" for X'mas. I told Mike. He asked if I could come for just the day. I said no. I just don't want to. He was not happy. Today, he told me he understood. I won't be spending Christmas with him. I don't mind. The day doesn't really mean anything to me. If you work retail, I am sure you can relate.
So, my sister and I will be having lunch together on Christmas day. I will cook everything. I'll invite anyone who wants to come. It's just lunch. No biggie. We won't be exchanging gifts. We won't be rushing anywhere to be with loved ones. We won't be forcing ourselves on each other. We'll just be spending a day off together. Eating whatever we want. Probably drinking something mulled. Probably calling our Mom & Dad to wish them well. Just like old times. Just as I like it. Later.
I guess that a consequence of getting older is that you have to make more decisions. And, as you get older, the decisions become more consequential. I had to make a decision yesterday. Nothing bad at all. Actually good. But still a decision. A consequential one.
When I was little, I had a very hard time saying goodbye. I had a hard time saying hello but I always got over it. The goodbye was always difficult for me. I remember my family having visitors and me being too shy to say hello. About 15 minutes later, I would be all friendly and jolly. But when it came time for our friends to leave, I would get upset. I remember a time when I would ask them not to leave and then, when they did, would go into the bedroom to cry. I remember my mother comforting me.
I remember when my sister left Nigeria for the U.S.A. She was leaving to attend secondary school in Liverpool, NY. I remember being inconsolable at the airport. I watched her get onto the plane. I remember pressing up against the terminal window, screaming at my mom to bring her back. I remember, in the car going home, asking my mom to call the airport to tell them we made a big mistake; to send her back. I wonder how my mom felt at that time. I was three. I remember it very well. It may be my first heart-wrenching event. I remember crying for the rest of the day. To this day, I get teary thinking about it. I wonder what my parents felt that day. I can't even imagine.
So, tomorrow, I will be notifying my current leadership of my intent to move on. I'm looking to move on to another location. Not leave my company. Same position. Bigger tasks. Almost double the staff. I am excited because I get to work with my company idol/mentor. And I get to work with other great people. More importantly, I think if I join the team, we can make strides that will become the company gold standard. Pretty lofty vision.
I also feel sad because I may have to say goodbye to some people that I love. People that are so comfortable to me and me to them. I hope that I don't start crying when I talk to them. Maybe, I'll just sweep into the office, announce my intent, and then step away to do something... something busy. Something where I don't have to feel like I am saying goodbye.
Something consequential. Later.