I have found it is much easier to appear busy if I am typing. People see you typing rapidly and they assume you are working very hard. It doesn’t really matter on what. You are actively doing something. I use the term “actively” very loosely as I spend all day sitting in my ridiculously overpriced chair. In fact it dawned on me today that I spend most of my week sitting and/or laying. Let’s just look at the last 24 hours: I spent the better part of yesterday making it a truly Lazy Sunday. I rarely left the bed. Then slept for eight or so hours. This morning, I’m up and about for about a half an hour and then I’m sitting in the car for 20 minutes. Then I walk down three stairs, get on an elevator and spend the rest of the day in my chair. At one point today, I came back from the kitchen, sat back in my chair and actually reached back for my seat belt that obviously doesn’t exist. There were people walking by so I tried to turn it into some complicated Bikram yoga stretch so as not to look stupid. I accomplished neither.
So I haven’t written in awhile because of the holidays and such. Actually having to “work” (what is that about?), needing to get things done around the house to make it livable (Note to self: you could write a whole blog on how much you hate doing laundry), and trying to put up Christmas decorations, which never happened by the way. I hope all none of you that read this had a great Thanksgiving. Mine was fairly uneventful. The most comedic thing that happened was actually before my husband and I even got there. We were running a bit late (in our defense, we were told to arrive sometime between 2 & 3. That’s a long ass time.) and were pulling in my sister’s neighborhood about five after 3:00 p.m. when my cell phone rings.
Sister: Hey where are you guys?
Me: Just pulling in the neighborhood.
Sister: Oh good. We started to say the prayer when Jordan realized you guys weren’t here.
Me: …(pause)…Um, OK? Thanks?
Granted, I have three sisters, a brother, 10 nieces and nephews not to mention parents and such around the place. So yeah, it is pretty easy to miss two people. But I blame this on the side that we brought. We brought a (delicious) salad. But it wasn’t mashed potatoes, or gravy, or, I don’t know, the turkey, so when it came time to say, “OK, do we have everything?” there was an emphatic, “Yes, yes we do!” and off they went, circling up for prayer, and forgetting Husband and I in the process.
I would normally become indignant over such an oversight, but the older I get, the less I care. Being the youngest of five, and the fact that 10 years separates me and my closest sibling, I tend to be forgotten. I wish I was exaggerating my plight, but it really happens all the time. My brother got into a life-threatening accident and no one called me for three days. One of my sisters announced her pregnancy and I found out thru a friend (not even a close friend; like a “friend of a friend”). My parents left the country for a month; I didn’t know until they got back. Some people would maybe welcome such anonymity but when your mere existence was “not a mistake, but a surprise” (and I quote my mother on that), you always feel a little left out, even after being on the Earth for almost three decades. But that’s fine. I’ve gotten better at dealing with it, mostly by incessantly beating my husband while he sleeps, but I digress.