Oops!
I did it again! Miscommunicated with a friend. Miscommunicated with my husband. Double-booked myself.
A friend and I have been trying to get together for what seems like weeks. We thought we found a date. I put it on my calendar.
The night before I planned to meet my friend for lunch, I realized that my plans with my friend would keep me from a silly ritual John and I have most Sundays after church. We go to Costco. He buys me a Mocha Freeze. We split a Churro. “The usual.” Then he wanders off and eats samples.
On this particular Saturday night, I realized that I craved hearing my husband say, “Do you want the usual?” We hadn’t had a “usual” Sunday for many weeks. Lots of comings and goings.
Why didn’t I make this connection weeks earlier when I set up the event with my friend? Why didn’t I talk it through with my husband then? Duh. Beats me.
So I sent my friend an email. I began with a dramatic statement: “Lately I feel as if I have been on a bullet train heading no where in particular.” Probably a little overly dramatic, don’t you think?! Then I explained that I needed hubby time and asked if we could reschedule.
I felt awful. And apologized. I seem to be doing that a lot these days.
My friend’s response still amazes me.
She reminded me of words she had read in some book called Storm Sisters about asking for help. She discerned within my muddled email a cry for help, my need to slow down. And have “the usual.” We rescheduled.
I woke up today a new woman. My introverted self has gas. Seems that “the usual” refuels me. As does sitting and reading the Sunday paper and watching a little football (!) with John. And taking a walk. And putting my cell phone on vibrate and moving it to another room. And letting Ringo snuggle on my lap.
Thank you, Storm Sister, for hearing my befuddled cry for help.
Thank you, Storm Sister, for knowing that I all too often try to be everything to everyone.
Thank you, Storm Sister, for knowing that I am an introvert and need to catch my breath after lots of people time.
Thank you, Storm Sister, for staying friends with me when I’m out of whack and in double-booking mode.
Thank you, Storm Sister, for speaking my words back to me when I had forgotten them.
May I return the favor one day when I’m out of this funk?
