Yesterday was a very odd day. Not a bad day, mind, just… odd. It started out with the annual Christmas Luncheon for Job 1, the one I was in charge of, the one that involved lunch for about 60 at a local restaurant. I’ve been in charge of it for a few years now, so it was a little sad that this is the last time I’ll be doing this. So I dressed up extra pretty, put the felt ornaments I made for all my various bosses in a gift bag, and headed off. Everything went smoothly, we had a great turnout, and everyone seemed to like the location. And then the real merriment began. Big Boss was determined that this year we would have a Proper Christmas Luncheon. It seems that, to Big Boss, a Proper Christmas Luncheon includes beer with lunch, cocktails in the bar afterwards, then bringing a few bottles of wine back to work afterwards, and spending the rest of the afternoon hanging out in his office with a few of the Cool People drinking them. The Cool People, in this case, includes myself, Boss J, Big Boss, and a few others all crowded around his small meeting table, drinking wine out of coffee mugs, and trading war stories, and trying to figure out where to have my Good-bye Luncheon. (For some reason they think the back room of Tank’s won’t be big enough.) It was pretty awesome.
Then a bit after five, when we decided that we might as well tidy up our desk and head home (or off to the college basketball game, in the case of Big Boss and Boss J), I looked at my calendar, and realized that I was supposed to be at Hospice training down by the Dayton Mall by 6pm. Well, at first I thought I was supposed to be there by 5:30, but then I double checked the start time and just about melted in relief. So I hustled myself out the door, and headed to my third session of training to be a Vigil Volunteer.
So by the time 7pm rolled around, I’d already gotten drunk and sobered up again, thrown my last Christmas luncheon for my division, and spent about 45 minutes thinking deeply about death and the dying process. I was due for some down time. Wednesday night is swing dancing, but that doesn’t really get going until about 8:45 or 9pm. I thought about going home for a little while, but the idea of fighting the holiday traffic twice really didn’t appeal. So I ended up heading over to one of the Big Bookstores, and settling into a chair with a silly romance for a while.
Then, of course, I had a hard time getting up out of that chair again. I almost didn’t bother. What made the difference was that I knew that a particular guy was going to be there. You see, there’s this guy who used to dance in Dayton. He’s actually the one who taught a lot of the people who taught me. A while back he moved out to California, and now he only comes back to Dayton once a year at Christmas. So one night a year, he shows up, and I usually get a dance with him. He never remembers me, but it’s always a really great dance, and the last two years it’s included him telling me what a wonderful dancer I am. That’s almost as awesome as the dance. 😀 So even though I was tired and in a very weird head space, I got off my duff and went to the dance. And I’m glad I did. I kept putting off asking him to dance – first he was hanging out with the people he knows a lot better than me, and then the music wasn’t stuff I wanted to dance to, and then I was getting tired. But right about when I was ready to leave, a song came on that was just right. He seemed deep in conversation with one of his friends, so I got Mr. Zoot to go ask her dance so that I could snap him up. And it worked. And it was a really great dance. And now I owe Mr. Zoot an R2D2 beanie.
Today is another weird day. It’s my last day at work before Christmas, and I’ve got Senioritis real bad. You know, when you won’t be here much longer, so nothing you do seems to matter all that much. I’m doing my best to combat it. I brought in Cinnamon Raisin bread from Panera for the office, and I’m drinking my coffee and trying to stay motivated. But all I want to do is listen to the same three songs off of Michael Buble’s Christmas album over and over again (White Christmas, Blue Christmas and Cold December Night), refresh Handmade Ryan Gosling looking for updates, and think about sneaking off to the bathroom to knit some more on Mr. T’s Christmas socks.
Man, this is going to be a long day.