It's been a long, grinding week, work-wise. Life-wise, nothing much has happened other than the following:
Get up early for work.
Drive to work.
Get to work.
Work some more.
Forage for dinner.
Lazily read/watch tv/get ready for bed.
Go to bed.
Sleep (fitfully. Stressed about work).
Wake up intermittently.
Wake up in the morning.
Repeat whole exercise all over again.
Nothing has really varied from this list.
I did have dinner with two good friends one evening.
I did have a therapy appointment where I looked at the carpet a lot and off into the distance (pure exhaustion) and I did manage to get all tax stuff together, mail it off to the accountant, and
be done with it.
All the things in the week add up to me having to think alot, 'exercise my brain' as work piles up and people need decisions made that they cannot make themselves. It's been a lot of very long days and for me, the ultimate-non-morning person (truly) it's had a tiring effect on me.
So last night, when I had to attend a short work-event (an opening of a new site) I was particularly exhausted.
I drove west to the location, on auto-pilot really, prepared to make a quick entrance and exit, show my face, and be done with it.
I arrived, parked, got out of my car, and then froze.
The glass-fronted room where the opening was taking place was packed with people. A faux-red carpet led up to the door, and all could see who was going in and out.
I am not kidding, a wave of shyness overtook me, in my ballet flats (I've been trying to not wear heels that often as my feet suffer for running when I do), my black pants, flared cut with a cuff, and my bought-in-Ireland-lends-me-credibility raincoat, and cashmere gloves (I noticed, en route, that a slight worn patch on the right thumb had now, morphed into a true hole). I almost turned around. Lots of people, a hum of conversational noise, how tired I look(ed), and how little make-up I was wearing.
But I had to go in. I had to see the kitchen I designed. I had to say hello to my clients. I had to make an appearance. My boss was on his way. We both had to be there.
I walked in, alongside a couple of strangers. Almost immediately I spotted one of my clients and quickly said hello, making my way to the back of the room, where the kitchen was, where all the samples I'd helped choose were laid out. In the company of cabinetry, I felt the pull of the familiar.
A waiter, dressed all in black, offered me a smoked-salmon-something. I gratefully accepted, took the small morsel of food, and took my time chewing it thoughtfully, while walking around the small, crowded space. Another waiter. A mini-burger. This was harder to eat, but I did it, self-consciously, and then finagled a glass of champagne from a tray in the kitchen I'd designed. I thought it funny that a tiny condo-sized kitchen was being used as a catering base-camp for an event that was over-flowing to well over fifty people. A second client, this time with a camera, my photo snapped.
I kept walking around until I ran into a woman with a hand-bag so delectable I had to compliment her on it. We struck up a conversation, easily, and I congratulated myself on my networking skills. We talked for a bit, my client came over, and I had another conversation to start. We concluded.
I hung around for a bit longer. I thanked my clients for the invitation and gave them a sincere compliment on the space, the event, the turn-out.
Walked back to my car, still shy.
Drove back home to downtown.
Proud of myself.