It’s getting late, and I must say words. My feet hurt. Can I stop now?
Mondays are always hard, but Mondays after a tragedy are the hardest. You can spend the weekend surrounded by people who love you, quarantined from the outside world and the potential judgment that half the time never even comes. In your little cocoon, everyone is on your side, and everything is going to be alright. But come Monday morning, you’re forced out into the world again, where things are possibly harsh and definitely uncertain.
My anxiety was through the roof this morning before I left for work. I was worried about what people were going to say when I went back. How would they take it when I explained to everybody what happened? They were actually really nice about it, but I’m never sure how much of my private life I should be sharing with my temporary co-workers. I’m such an oversharer. It’s a hazard.
I calmed down around lunchtime when Geoff texted me to say he has an interview tomorrow with the same temp agency I work for. They’ve been so great about finding me work, and Geoff has so much more experience and so many more skills than me, I just know he’ll have something by Monday.
Geoff’s friend also came up with a brilliant idea for the wedding reception if we can make it work. It sounds like the aquarium is going to be cost prohibitive, so the new plan is to try and rent a house in Waimanalo and have a potluck reception in the backyard. I wanted to have a backyard wedding all along, but didn’t have a backyard available. I never thought of renting a house.
The trouble is, a lot of the nicer ones are a five night minimum. I could afford one or two nights, but not five. I wish I’d thought of this earlier, I would have just had all my family stay there and we could split the cost.
Fingers crossed that we find somewhere with a beautiful backyard and an ocean view. I’ll make burgers if everybody else will chip in. They keep saying they want to help. Well, guess what, folks, I may be putting you to work making food for the party I’m supposed to be throwing for you. Sorry, Charlie.
Still taking deep breaths. The waves are big these days. I’m ready for things to quiet down.