Spun Out

I used to date this guy who would say, "Bonnie, I don't know how to handle you when you're spun out".  The first time he said it, I just looked at him with a blank stare.  He said, "You know, like in Nascar".  Another blank stare.  (Side note: It's helpful if you read this next part aloud like a good ol' boy, cause that's what he was.) "You know...the car is just going 'round and 'round the track...doing just fine...nothing wrong at all...maybe even winning the race...and then BAAAAAMMM!!!! It just starts spinning and spinning 'round and ain't nothing gonna stop it unless it hits a wall or just runs out of steam.  Sometimes, well... you kinda do that."  


I had a little spun (spin? span? I hate that word) out episode this week.


Let's get one thing straight before we start this:  I'M TIRED.  This job is making me so tired.  I don't even work that hard;  I just have no concept of "night", and then I can't sleep during the day because this god-awful school bells rings every 42 minutes or something.  For example, the other night I was talking to David and I spent a solid 60 seconds straight trying to say "peripherally".  (Please don't ask me why I was trying to say it...sometimes our conversations take strange turns and we're not sure how it happens).  Finally, after patiently listening to me sound like my teeth had fallen out, he said "It's peripherally."  I then tried to repeat it and still couldn't do it.  Let me make sure you understand that: I could not say the word, even call and response style.  I'm not entirely sure if I finished what I was trying to say or if I just gave up and started talking about something else...  So, yeah, I'M TIRED.


Without making this any longer than it needs to be (I mean, it's going to be long...I'll wait for you if you want to go grab a snack), I'll just say I had a little episode and lost it a little this week. Sometimes you just spin out, and you're not going to stop until you hit the wall or run out of steam.

I texted Holly on Friday morning and asked if I could come spend the night.  I know that me sleeping on the couch means the cat sleeps on the couch which means the cat doesn't sleep with Holly (and since Holly and Baby are not exactly BFF, it works out for everyone).   It's still pretty cool that her door is always open for me to come whenever I need to (I guess literally and figuratively since I have a key, but that's not the point and I need to focus because this post is *long*).

I went to El Cazador Friday night, and then went to Rojo with Julia and David (David G., not David S....he's coming up in a minute) to meet Holly. I was already thinking at this point that this is exactly what I needed this weekend...just being with people that I enjoy talking to.  I left Rojo feeling accomplished, and kind of a little better.

I went back to Holly's house and had a phone chat with David S.  I *love* watching the people that my kids become, and I *love* becoming closer to them the older they get.  I also *love* that tonight I told him that I had really good ex gossip and he immediately replied "SPILL".  We're a couple of facebook chats away from being put in a retirement home for old Jewish women so we can just gossip all day, but that's totally not the point here and I need to keep this sucker moving.  On Friday night, we had one of our good long vent sessions about work, school, exes, entitlement, football (just checking to see if you're paying attention...focus please), paper towels, yoga, haircuts...you know, the normal stuff.  We're living parallel lives right now, and I think we both just need sanity most of the time.  Sometimes your sanity is the person you least expect it to be, but it's kind of cool.  I'm also pretty pumped about exchanging all written communication on paper towels from now on.

Shawn (bless his soul, most patient man alive) and I had breakfast Saturday morning.  Shawn has seen me at some of the ugliest times of my life, yet he's hung around for some reason.  Anyway, I was 15 minutes late to the restaurant that I was 3 minutes away from (the restaurant being McDonald's, because S-Dawg and I like to keep it classy).  I slapped my bacon, egg and cheese biscuit on the table and opened with "I know I look terrible. I know I have a gimpy eye. I hope it's just allergies and not pink eye.  I'm so sorry."  He just kind of shrugged, took a sip of his Coke and said "It's fine.  Good to see you."  That, ladies and gentlemen, is a good friend, cause I'm not gonna lie, I looked rough.  Like, Britney Spears (post-Toxic era) rough.  We talked, we laughed, we cried (well, *he* did when I told him I hadn't ever waxed my car much less buffed it, but I think we're going to be able to move past that).

I went to see Holly's show Saturday night with Reid.  I adore Reid.  That's all I really need to say.  Reid listens when people talk, and I appreciate that.  Even though we didn't talk about any of my spinning out issues, it's still nice just to be listened to sometimes. And we enjoyed a straight play and it wasn't a comedy which is a pretty big deal for us.  And we were fortunate enough to sit beside this woman who knew everything about theater in Birmingham (just ask her) so we were able to learn a lot from the experience... :)

After Reid and I finished our post-show parking lot talk, I went to the already-pretty-much-over football party at Lee's.  My late arrival was actually perfect, because Lee and I had the best porch talk (which BTW was my second great porch talk this weekend...I didn't forget about you Holly).  I learned things that I needed to know.  Like, really needed to know.  I shouldn't have doubted myself about a lot of things, because I was right and I deserve something better.

One thing Lee and I talked about is how we both don't show a ton of emotion but experience it so intensely. I'm a pretty intense person, in case you haven't noticed.  I am *not* mushy, sappy, touchy or any of those things.  But I hope that each person mentioned in this post knows that I love people intensely, and you are one of them.  Honestly, if you're taking the time to read this, I probably love you intensely.  This is, like, my sappy quota for the year on my blog, but I'll say it anyway:  This weekend I was loved, and I needed it.

I NEEDED THIS WEEKEND.  I needed each and every one of you.  So, thanks kids.  It's been real.