Take the Stairs

I've written at least a dozen posts in my head over the past month or so, but there's a slight problem. When I have the energy to write, I don't seem to have the time. And when I have the time? I'm too fried to do anything but sleep or gaze blankly at QVC. (Or both ... I often wake up to the midnight announcement of the TSV -- Today's Special Value for those in the know.)

But there are a couple of posts that have kind of clung to my few remaining brain cells, begging to be written. So I'm going to try to squish them all into one. Bear with me.

Take the Stairs

First, the title of this post: Take the Stairs. This was one of my New Year's Resolutions. (There were three. And in a remarkable triumph of memory and intention, I remember all three and have actually done them.*) When I made the resolution, I meant it literally: walk my ass up the f*ing stairs instead of slouching to the elevator to my 4th floor office. Every day, every time I go in or out of the office. Because it's easy, cheap exercise and I feel less lazy when I do it.

But over time, that phrase started to take on some larger meanings ... take the high road, don't slip into the "lazy" old patterns; don't take shortcuts, if you're going to do something, do it right. Take the stairs. And for the most part, I've done that, especially in my relationships. Oh, I've stumbled more than a few times. But I've learned a lot, too. And each time, it gets a little easier to be nice to exH, to be rational and secure with P, to plow through work stuff I'd rather not do, to be kinder to those coworkers I'd prefer to strangle, to be patient with Lulu and Boo. Practice makes ... perfect-ish.

Do You See What I See?
I had a moment last week that I think may have actually changed my life. I know, sounds dramatic, but in just one conversation, I suddenly began to question how I see the whole world.

So here's the backstory. A couple weeks ago, P and I went to NYC for the day for a work meeting. L, a colleague who lives in New Orleans, came with us. Here's what you need to know about L: she's very pretty, super-stylish, and is living with one of P's closest friends. She and I are friendly, but not close. She and P are friends through his friend. In the days leading up to the trip, P and I had been under a lot of pressure and hadn't seen each other much. So that's where we start.

Here's how the trip went from my perspective: P was happy and friendly with L, even a touch flirty, perhaps. He barely talked to me, but seemed to pay attention to L's every word. They chatted about P's friend and reminisced about some crazy parties the three of them had been to. I was pretty quiet most of the day, feeling like a third wheel. When we got back, I dropped L off at her hotel, then took P home. He didn't invite me in and I left convinced he was done with me.

But here's the twist. The next night, there was a party at the office and L and I got to talking. She asked how things were with P. She mentioned that he seemed so "happy and relaxed" around me and commented that she was thrilled to see us so happy together.

What?

Since I'd had a few gin and tonics, I poured out my side of the NYC trip. She was genuinely stunned -- she hadn't seen it my way at all. To her, we seemed fine -- great, even. She said she'd never seen P so happy.

Is it possible that I'd had it all wrong?

And if so, how many other scenes like that had I completely misinterpreted? I started thinking back to all the times I'd been in similar situations, wondering if just maybe there was another way to see things. Have you ever seen this optical illusion? If you look at it one way, you'll see an old lady; look again and you can see a beautiful young woman.

Is it possible I've spent my life only seeing the old hag and missing out on the beauty?

Stay tuned for another post on recent revelations. Right now, I need to check out the latest TSV!

*The other two were to wash my face every night (gross, I know, but I never used to do it and now I do!) and to "rise above" all the crap. I'll give myself a C+ there.