A few Monday mornings ago, I awoke with a sore throat. I immediately dismissed it as allergies and went about my day. By midday, my throat had worsened, and I had the tiniest smidge of a fever at one point. I texted my boss while crawling into bed. Andrea threatened to isolate me. I told Georgie I’d leave him my office couch in my will.
“Ugh. I’m going to get the ‘rona because I went to Target for a picture frame and all the college kids were there! This is how it ends.” I moaned to myself as I fell asleep.
I quickly slipped into a weird dream. In it, I sat down in a classroom next to a Senior Vice President of my company and said, “Oh! You’re taking this class?” We exchanged small talk and, realizing I’d taken the class before, I slipped out of the room only to realize that I was supposed to be teaching the class. I hastily found a replacement. Many of my dreams are filled with dead people. My dad. Jeanette. My grandma. I don’t understand why they keep showing up. For weeks, I dreamt I was in a hotel and unable to find my room – when I google what this mean I learn: When you get lost inside a hotel and can't find a hotel room, it represents the lack of direction with your short term goals. Huh. Whatever.
Earlier this summer, a friend of ours had a baby and had taken to social media the next day to announce the baby’s arrival to expectant fans. I let Andrea know that the baby had arrived and then said, “Wow. She just had the baby yesterday! If I had a baby the day before, I’d be lying down, ringing a bell for you to bring me things.”
Andrea sized me up and said, “Let’s be honest. You’d be ringing a bell for the next 18 years. Maybe more…”
True. I’m a terrible and dramatic patient regardless of the circumstances.
Andrea, a stickler for bedtime, put us to bed early the night of my ‘rona scare. I awoke around 3 AM. Wide awake. Sore throat cured. I guess it wasn’t the ‘rona. I got out of bed and the dog followed as I slipped the room.
Andrea texted at 531 AM: “Where did you go?”
You would think we resided in palatial mansions for the number of times we haven’t been able to locate one another in this home and the one we lived in prior, but that’s not the case.
“I couldn’t sleep.” I texted back as Andrea shuffled out into the hallway, muttering, “The stars are still out!”
“I was awake for hours so I’m reloading the dishwasher. Would you feel better if I came back to bed?” I offered.
“Georgie – back to bed. You can stay up.” Andrea shuffled back into the room, Georgie following sheepishly. I shrugged at him.
A year ago this past week, I drove Andrea to Logan Airport so she could interview for the position she is now in – the position we moved to Virginia for. For a time being, following this move, I kept questioning why this move at this time - during a pandemic. I’ve shifted my perspective slightly – considering, “What is the lesson in this? What’s this trying to teach me?” I’d like to tell you that zen AF is my baseline. In reality, I have been taking zen enhancing classes which are responsible for this perspective shift. I’ve been taking a Mindfulness Based Stress reduction course which is a prerequisite to a course I’m taking this fall through Mindful Leader. I’m still taking a class to teach children (and their parent) to meditate – and with the amount of homework in that class, I feel I should be a Ph.D. when it concludes. Instead, I’ll have a certificate.
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