Thursday, December 5, 2013

Aren't You Glad, Aren't You Happy, Aren't You Proud?

Lady Darcy and I were friends with a sweet and deeply gay boy our freshman year who used to say this. (But on reflection, how did we even know that boy? He lived at Kresge and we were down the hill at College Five. How did we know anyone at Kresge?! We never hung out there.)

Tonight was one of those crazy nights where everyone had to be in several places at once:
  • Mimosa had Into the Woods rehearsal in Watertown (a half-hour drive away) starting at 6:30
  • Husband and I had to go to Li'l Martini's parent-teacher conference at 6:05
  • Husband was scheduled to lead the Worship Associate meeting at our church at 6
  • I had my final zumba class with Shy Jeny at 6:30, I've missed so many of her classes, and tonight is the last one of this session (well, technically Monday was the last one — I'm registered for Mondays — but I've only been there for two of those. Monday is a terrible night for me, I fear!)
Something had to give!

(And keep in mind that as I prepared to micromanage all this, I wasn't sure whether I'd even have a car. But saints be praised, my car was back in my hands yesterday at 4. It's a Christmas miracle!)

Last Monday night, during the Into the Woods parent meeting, I was a woman with a mission: Bond with the other Arlington parent in the cast and convince her to be my new best friend and carpooling buddy.

And . . . success!! Mimosa got a ride to Watertown tonight, and Husband drove everyone home.

But after figuring out all the moving parts and running around all day — and feeling stiff and tired and arthritic and a hundred years old, plus it is cold and dark at night — the idea of not going to zumba had INCREDIBLE appeal.

Nonetheless — I did it! And Shy Jeny was so happy to see me, and I promised that I would be a much more regular attendee for the next session (Thursdays, in the church at the bottom of my hill), and also one of my church pals Dr. Robin was there, and she's a cancer doc, so she and I had a long informative talk about my breast cancer marker — which, you know, wasn't fun, per se, but was a good talk.

Anyway — I am very proud of myself. It would have been so easy to stay home, but I cowboyed up and did the right thing. Yay, me.

And now I will take a hot hot bath and soak these poor ancient creaky joints o' mine. Tomorrow Li'l Martini has an early-release day, he'll be out of school at 11:15, and he's agreed to go grocery-shopping with me and then out to lunch at Madrona Tree. Fun fun, I love dates with my boy.

What a week!!! Crazytown.

Zen, zen.
—Lady C, bathtub bound


  1. Your blog has a thrilling twist and surprise ending -- you went to Zumba! Good on ya.
    Mrs. Cynicletary

    1. Yes, it's totally a living suspense novel around here. Will the pile of clean dishes topple before someone finally empties the dish drainer? How can Lady C make a delicious and nutritious dinner from three carrots, a pork chop, and some aging lemons? What atrocity will the cast of the Nativity Scene commit next? (more on this to come) And . . .

      . . . who keeps moving the fugly bean wreath Mimosa made in third grade to the front and center of the tree, despite my attempts to relocate it to a discreet back branch???

      I'm living a Lee Child book, I tell you.