Straight out the gate, I’d like to send a shout out to the month of February … for being what I can only describe as THE perfect house guest.
I mean check this out:
- February arrived on schedule.
- February stayed just long enough.
- February departed whilst still charming.
- Oh, and February left flowers.
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FYI: The charming bit I lifted from Pride and Prejudice.
After Darcy asks Elizabeth Bennett to stay longer at the party, Elizabeth advises him that the best time for a person to leave is when people still find them charming.
Sage advice from the 1800s.
Now, onto March.
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I’ve a few medical things that I have to do this month.
After years of ducking around corners at the sight of white lab coats, I am putting on my big boy trousers and facing them head on … or, rather, mask on.
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Both were born out of necessity.
I had a nasty tooth infection that ended with the tooth being pulled. Happily so. Lucky for my vanity, that tooth was way in the back. Otherwise, I might be singing a different tune.
Then I got busted for letting my doctor’s visits lapse during COVID. The office told me in no way will they let me go further until I come in and say hello. Where I promptly got a right ‘ole talking to from Dr. Floyd.
So, I am tenderly leaning into this new world medical order.
Next Friday I have my routine teeth cleaning appointment, but not before I give more blood at Dr. Floyd’s request.
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The dentist thing I’ve got.
The doctor thing I don’t think I’ll ever get used to.
I mean, what pleasantness can come from a second helping of hemoglobin?
No matter, I’m sticking with both.
And boy does it go against every fiber of my being to do so.
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See, by design, I am a self proclaimed Emotional Runner.
Of which I take no credit.
The stork delivered me this way.
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Avoider Of The Unknown has been on my calling card since I can remember.
I maintain that an unopened box is by far the better option than an opened one.
This I will defend, absolutely knowing that unopened boxes only pile up.
Further, I’ll boldly suggest that piled up boxes can serve a greater purpose.
Grab a table cloth and voila! You’ve got end tables!
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If anyone is feeling inclined to introduce me to Erwin Schrödinger? Yeah, no need. Me and ‘ole Winnie, we be soul mates.
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Envelopes. Texts. Phone Calls. Voice Messages. Appointments. Doorbells.
You name it, in my brain they all want something from me.
Or worse, they want to tell me something that I desperately don’t want to know.
So, when that stuff metaphorically ‘dings’, my flight mode kicks in. Which is often followed by me packing a suitcase and stamping my passport.
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The paradox here is that I am a complete 180° with work.
There I get. I go. I jump. I leap. I stretch. I soar. I stay.
Hell, I make the cardboard that makes the boxes. Then I rip the seal off those lids before they even have time to dry.
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My two sides are truly the difference of Nature versus Nurture.
One I came in with, one I made.
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Which is why I enjoy working as much as I do, with pure-joy optimism.
With things of my own making, I don’t pile boxes.
There I find a cat that is very much alive.
It might be a wee bit lethargic, perhaps, but always always mendable.
I cannot say the same for the things that show up on my doorstep.
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At least there is a semblance of harmony with the two … My Nurture funds my Nature’s need to hop on planes.
Case in point.
Taking a queue from February and Elizabeth Bennett’s playbook, I’m charming up March by heading out to England in about 3 weeks.
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Happy Saturday.