Friday, February 29, 2008

I'm not moving, and you can't make me.

Any workweek that starts with news of your boss taking his own life promises to be emotionally charged. And it was. And I'm glad it's over.

A former boss of mine is a huge movie fan. We were going to get together after work on Monday to discuss the Oscars. He cancelled because he had to have a biopsy! Hopefully we'll be able to get together next week, after he has the results and can share the good news with me.

While having a lively discussion about American Idol, during which we amused ourselves by speaking in Randy-isms ("you're hot, dawg" "you gotta bring it," "just keeping it real," etc.), I realized that my friend John has never updated me about his conversations with his doctors regarding an implantable defibrilator. He hasn't filled me in because there's nothing to say. He hasn't talked to his doctor about it this year! He just doesn't want the procedure done. I just don't want him to die. As soon as the subject changed to his heart, he suddenly had to go. This conversation will be resumed at a later date, I promise.

Then the friend of mine who separated from his wife in January checked in. When he moved out of their home at his wife's behest, he was sure it was temporary, that they could work it out. Instead he told me that on April 1, he's moving out of the tiny room in his brother's apartment and into his own apartment. He sees his kids twice a week and every other weekend, which is often for a divorced dad, but he doesn't want to be a divorced dad. I thought they would live happily ever after. So did he. I hate this.

Then I got a call from a prospective employer asking me to provide a reference for my friend Kathy. She began registering with temp agencies two weeks ago and had hoped to have an assignment by now. She's very broke and I'm worried about her.

My oldest friend is having troubles with her teenage son that have thrown her for a loop.

Everyone seems to be dealing with intense shit and it's left me tired. I have to remember that I'm fine. I haven't mentioned my therapy much on this blog, but this is a recurring issue during my couchtime. I must remind myself where my friends end and I begin. I can't be of any help to anyone if I allow their problems to weigh on me like gravity. It's like the flight attendants tell us at the beginning of each flight -- you know, remember to put your oxygen mask on first before you help anyone else. I must figure out how to love these people without letting their problems sink my spirit.

So I'm going to withdraw into myself this weekend. Recharge my battery. Prepare myself for the world again.

PS My best friend had a little good news for a change. On Sunday, his whole family is going to a reception at the public library. A painting done by his younger daughter (second grade) was one of a handful selected for display! He's so proud of her, and I'm so happy for him.

I'm still not moving, but I'll be a little happier as I hibernate.