So, my creative font has ALREADY been stymied. Since I'm leaving for Spain in a mere two weeks, I thought I should try to keep myself a busy beaver at work, especially since every day I read some horrifying thing about the economy and jobs and blah blah doomsday prophesy. But friends, wow, did I choose poorly. One half-idle conversation with a partner pal on Thursday about wouldn't it be great if I could find a very short term something to keep me a little busier after one of my cases settled mutated into me agreeing to be staffed on a Very Intense Hearing In a Week case that has consumed my every waking moments since Friday.
What? You noticed a coincidence between me being work crazy and a sudden cessation of blog entries? A cause and effect? A yin and a yang? You don't say.
Anyhoo, worky weekend, a semi-lovely, semi-shitty Valentines. I do secretly get into such schmaltzy things and have a dormant crafty side, so I had a lot of fun making a 3-D valentines card-mobile that DK hung up in the study and it pleasingly spins when the heat comes on. And he loved the present (I finally decided on one) -- I found a great class run by an NYC cheese-haven institution Artisanal (think Murray's Cheese) on Spanish wine and cheese that occurs right before our trip. And I bought hothouse tulips and decorated the table with bud vases and cut out hearts in different papers and fanned out strawberries to serve with homemade buttermilk waffles. All that is the lovely part of the day. The shitty part is not worth getting into, except to note that DK and I both got hit by the stress stick and we (cough) (that is me being diplomatic; I am internally screeching HIM HIM HIM HIM) (but maturity? hello?) (fine, WE) did not deal particularly well. Which made for us eating the Chinese food and fancy champagne I brought home in separate rooms, in stony silence. Love! It makes the heart sing.
Don't fret; we made up one shrimp dumpling and an episode of Gossip Girl later (though it really took another day for me to forgive him in my heart to be totally honest). In the past day or so, I managed to get a little perspective and having someone who wakes up early to bring me cups of tea to help me get out of bed in time for an 8am conference call (on a Sunday, good lord) and fix dinners and scratch my back? Who checks in and writes silly notes and kisses me until I go weak in the knees? Who tucks the crossword into my bag so I'll have something fun to do on the train to the client's? Well, that someone is a year-round Valentine. Done and done. I think I have an expectation problem which makes me flirt just a little with my genetic birthright of Gagy-"Burnt Toast Is Fine For Me"-Robertsonesque martyrdom (I can all but feel her on my shoulder sympathetically clucking as I subconsciously create a mental checklist of How I am Long-Suffering and Wonderful and How He Is A Cad Who Didn't Even Buy Me A Card, Egad). Oh Gagy, I mean this is the most loving way: please go stick it.
I'm out. Here I am saying mean things to my poor dead granny in heaven and outing (our) bad Valentine's behavior. Clearly, bed calls. There are miles to go of work before I sleep, but frankly, those miles will be there in the morning. I'm going to grab the shut-eye while it's in the realm of the possible. Nighty night.
Hope you had a good night's sleep.
Posted by: hazelblackberry | February 17, 2009 at 04:13 PM