Today was one of those days where I just didn’t seem to have it together. I told myself that I was fine. I even wondered if I should have gone back to work this week instead of taking the extra time off. You see, BoBo had asked what do I do all day, and it just didn’t sound like I was doing enough. I wrote out a lot of thank you cards, and also wrote down 22 more names of thank cards that needed to be sent. I called on Tom’s 401K from the company that laid him off many years ago (*that* was a turning point for him in terms of financial security). I was told to call his old employer…who told me to call back Fidelity…who told me to call the old employer. It just doesn’t seem like I am actually accomplishing much – if anything at all.
Still, I keep telling people, who ask how I am doing, that I am “fine.” I then began to wonder about my being “fine” when I showed up at the Social Security office 24 hours prior to my appointment. Come to find out, my appointment for tomorrow (rather than today) is actually a *phone* appointment. I could very well have screwed up on Wednesday too, had I not found this out. I suppose that I could take credit for finding out this information on time even though it seems like I should have had it clear from the beginning. Now, is that a product of how I am now, or how I was when I made the initial call to the SS office?
Later on in the day, I showed up at BoBo’s baseball game, glanced at the field and determined that the players looked too big to be the Frosh-Soph team. I didn’t walk far enough in to examine the dugout. I would have seen BoBo if I had done that. Instead I made the leap that I was at the wrong field. I made a phone call and was told that the game was at another school.
I went to the other school, watched for a 1/2 inning when I discovered that the guys in the white jerseys weren’t our team. The other team on the field was in red. This was very puzzling because BoBo doesn’t have a red jersey. I looked around and saw familiar parents (not that I have been to enough games to know our team parents).
A minute later, BoBo’s football coach came over and sat down beside me. He asked me how I was doing and I replied fine. I still thought that I was. Then he said, “This is the varsity game, Julie.” I tried to recover by saying that I heard that the nachos were good here, and took a bite of YaYa’s nachos.
There just was no recovering. I guess sometimes it seems like all is well when it is just a facade. What-EVER. It is actually just good ol’ Julie (without her Outlook Calendar or PDA) in action. Oh well, at least I got to run today. Something good had to come out of it.