This week was not a great one for me on a personal level. But I’ve decided I’m not going to dwell on the fact that this week saw an almost four year, on again, off again, relationship breathe it’s very last, fairly agonizing breath. I’ve made a point of deciding not to meditate on the gut-wrenching, heart breaking, guilt inducing, shame invoking, or immensely frustrating negatives. No. I’m not going to focus on how this was no Romeo and Juliette ending either. I’m not going to harp to myself repeatedly about how it resembled more like a gory, slasher, horror movie type ending. Nor am I going to imagine how the scene would play out were it creatively transposed into a murder scene in an old Hitchcock film, the relationship playing the part of the helpless victim.
No. No melodramatic ranting or raving to myself at 3am in the kitchen over multiple tubs of choc-chip Haagen Dazs.
No crying pools of tears on the light wooden and completely impractically unsealed wooden floors; pools deep enough to drown a small rat. (No thinking about drowning small rats either for that matter). And absolutely no, under any circumstances, NO staying in on Friday night’s in my remarkably sexy over sized moo-cow PJ’s and fuzzy slippers to play pick-up-sticks with the 12 year old kid I watch. No. I have decided to engage in absolutely none of the fore-mentioned activities whatsoever.
What I have decided to focus on instead, are the many little blessings that are sent my way each day. And the wonderful family I work for and live with at the moment have done a really, really fantastic job of helping me out with this.
Bare with me.
As each horror film tends to have one pinnacle scene, one really gruesome, memorable climax that makes the viewer squirm and grimace in disgust, so did the horror of this past week. That scene’s title: “Wednesday”. And let me tell you, Wednesday, for lack of a more eloquent word that better captures the essence of what I felt, Sucked. (Yes, with a capital S). It really Sucked. If fact, it Sucked so much, that I (much to my embarrassment) ended up bawling like a baby – at work. (My points on the professional scale continue to soar to new heights). My poor 12 year old, being quite taken back (I try not to make a habit of this, for obvious reasons), didn’t quite know what to do with herself. She did however do a wonderful job in the hugging and “there there” departments – her scrawny little arms trying to assume a safe and assuring position around my violently shaking shoulders. In true 12 year old style, out came the sweeties and blankets, girlie preteen hate music, and puzzles (I wasn’t sure, but I went with it).
That evening we fetched her father (my boss; middle aged, German, high profile and type A) from work. My dear kid proceeded (in true, excited, child like style) to tell my boss just how upset I’d been, and how I’d spent the entire afternoon sobbing (she meticulously left out no details, which thrilled me). Mortified as I was, as I drove us all back to our apartment, I was met with only empathy and understanding. Unexpected, undeserved, but extremely welcome.
However, my greatest surprise greeted me the following day. After horribly oversleeping, completely missing my morning work shift, I stumbled out of bed at 2pm and aimed for the kitchen. Now not only was I feeling painfully sorry for myself, I was feeling very guilty too. Great.
As I approached the entrance to the kitchen, I noticed something odd. The kitchen table was… clean. No used cutlery or dirty napkins creatively sprawled across the surface. No half empty coffee mug or bowl of soggy Nestle Clusters. No crumbs? No cold, hard, barely touched baguette either. Just one clean, almost empty table. But what was equally as confusing to me was what WAS on the table. One side plate, in my spot, with something on it.
As I approached I realised that on this plate was one banana, one boiled egg in an eggcup, and a one small cherry tomato, also in an eggcup. My little, tired brain was doing it’s best. Confusion was still in the lead.
And then I saw it. As I took one final step right up to the subject in question, standing directly above this cause for bewilderment, a broad, somewhat goofy smile broke out almost contagiously across my face. The subject smiled back.
Turns out, my poor boss was obviously more concerned about me and my emotional hiccup the previous day than I’d realised. Also turns out he has a more varied sense of humor than I’d realised. Staring back at me was breakfast. And today breakfast had two eyes (one larger, one, well, not quite there but trying) and an unmistakably large grin.
Convinced that this was my kid’s doing, I pounced on her as she walked through the door that afternoon. Nope. I was wrong. She had no part in any of it. It was my boss. It was all my boss. They didn’t oversleep and skip breakfast. No. They woke on time (even though I didn’t) and ate breakfast. They then left the kitchen spotless (I usually do the cleaning bit after my breakfast at a more civil hour). And apparently my boss decided I needed to have a better day after the previous one, and that one egg, one cherry tomato, and one banana, all strategically placed on a side plate was JUST what I needed. Funny enough, he was right. It cracked me up (excuse the pun). I was in hysterics. I was also rather moved by the very sweet, unexpected and strangely thoughtful gesture. But mostly, I was in hysterics.
Naturally, I grabbed the camera. Way I saw it, something that was able to put a smile on my face when the corners of my mouth were fighting a loosing battle against gravity, would hopefully put a smile on yours too.
Have a great week all!
P.S… Sebastian, for your Hitchcock DVD’s, try next to the projector – top shelf. Just a hunch. Also. Um. There’s a very small chance we may be out of ice-cream.