This past weekend, the man and I were up bright and early on Saturday morning because we had to be at the hospital for some tests by 7.30a.  Meh.  The sun was stretching its way across the sky as we drove in the murky early morning to the city.

As we navigated the streets very close to our destination, we found ourselves behind a car sitting at a green light, waiting to make a turn.  The man gave a friendly tap on the horn just as I realized there was a red arrow.  Whoops.  The driver’s arms were waving and there was no way to communicate that we’d made a mistake.

Except that we followed them the entire way into the parking garage of the hospital, and we ended up in the same waiting room with them, half asleep and filling in forms for testing.  The man felt it necessary to apologize, which he did to her strong retort of “It was a red arrow!”  Ce la vie, right?  We’d done what we thought was best.  Now on with  life!

Over an hour later, as I shuffled back into the “Ladies Gowning Room” (sounds swanky right? haha), the same girl greeted me.  She did a little bit of a double take, and then, making the decision, turned to me.

“I wanted to apologize ~ my husband was giving me a hard time for being such a bitch.  Your husband came over to apologize and I should have been more gracious ~ so, thank you and I’m sorry!  You guys must not be from Philly ~ I said that to my husband after you walked away ~ no one from Philly would have apologized!”

I smiled and laughed a little, admitting that neither of us were originally from Philadelphia but we lived here now.  I assumed she wasn’t from Philly, as her car had New York plates, but she said she lived right around the corner. So it was an interesting remark.  She was very nice and we chatted a bit after I put on normal clothing again (nothing seems to diminish a person more than the sexy gowns and socks required for hospital testing).  It was a nice way to end the whole exchange.  Human beings never cease to surprise.  And being nice pays off every once in a while.

Often, in the evenings when I’m curled up on the couch, i want to write something here, but I don’t.  There’s no good reason other than laziness ~ the man built me a desk to work from home, so my computer is now (gasp!) across the room. And when I’m very snuggled and comfy the inclination to get up … doesn’t really exist.

As I have written before, the man and I made no elaborate New Year’s resolutions, or had any expectations for this newest year.  Which, in retrospect, may have been a blessing.  At least the dismal nature of these first few months of 2014 aren’t additionally disappointing in regards to any expectations.

When your back is up against the wall, when legitimately everything feels difficult… I think that’s when your true character comes through.  I can’t say much for mine (first, because that would be weird, but also because I don’t think a person can speak to their own character, only others can).  My husband has been nothing but a positive force throughout our woes, full of the upside, of ideas, of encouragement … full of the bright side of life.  It wasn’t easy for him either, and I selfishly wallowed in my own stuff rather than being a good partner.

But I feel as though we’ve definitely been in a valley for a while, and it’s infinitely comforting to know that I have a partner in this journey who loves, understands and supports me no.matter.what.  That even when life feels like a real battle, he’s in my corner, he will fall asleep holding my hand and kiss me good morning every day when our alarm begins to ring.  He’s a man who supports me at work, in my creative endeavors and through my newest medical challenge.  Even if things are brutal, I am more than lucky to have as my person.

That sentiment extends to my crazy family, fantastic friends and lovably quirky co-workers.   Even on the toughest days ~ when our health inspection for the new restaurant is postponed again or I have new, highly inconvenient symptoms ~ I am blessed to have a core group of seriously awesome people in my life.

People who ask why I haven’t blogged since February 23rd ~ who remind me that writing is my outlet, my therapy … my honesty in black & white.  So this is my step back  … I can’t guarantee the next few posts will be good.  But I can guarantee they will exist.

Today, as the flakes thickened in their race to the ground, I made my  escape from the office at 11am.  It wasn’t a terrible drive home ~ the roads weren’t super crowded but they also weren’t very good.  Zoinks.

My amazing husband was already at home, and had shoveled the driveway three times!!!  So all the crazy driving and abandoned vehicles and fender benders melted away as we made a nice comforting lunch of scrabby eggs and smoked salmon.  I admit that as the snow fell fast and furious this girl worked (and got a lot done, btw!).  But we also re-watched Silver Linings Playbook  and enjoyed a nice bottle of red (after I OD’d on tea).

Our friends (and landlords) invited us over for dinner and as usual, they put forth an incredible spread.  We chatted about life, and restaurants and film and food and wine as the snow continued to fall.  It was a gentle almost other-worldly magical.  Sometimes life happens like that.

I love snow.  Not for the standard reasons ~ work, and having a day off and all that.  Those things don’t really exist in the restaurant biz.  I love the quiet and the beauty ~ the excuse it gives us to all be at home and enjoy each other, and be snuggled and warm.

Today was good day.  Til tomorrow.

It’s been awhile since I’ve been totally wiped out ~ as in, bed all day and in and out of sleep.  But that was my day yesterday and for most of this morning.  Even now, curled on the couch as the sun streams through the windows … yeah, I’m still not feeling great.

So lame.

Remember as a kid, when being sick meant a mother or grandmother softly tucking the blankets around you, whispering softly that they loved you, making soup or toast or tea? It changes as an adult.  Luckily, I got sick on a weekend, so my husband tucked me in, whispered softly that he loved me and, when I was able to get up, made me pancakes for … well, the only meal I ate yesterday.

This morning the man headed out to run errands (he’s much more motivated than me) ~ I stayed at home, curled up with Lucy, half awake end half asleep watching an awesome Eagles (the band) documentary for the second time.  He takes stupid good care of me and came home with lunch ingredients, juice ingredients and other fun (yes, I said fun) things from the grocery store.

I think I’m a little loopy at the moment.

Which probably means that a doctor’s appointment is necessary.

It really sucks to be sick as a grown up.

Sometimes, it takes some harsh words to finally snap out of a funk.

I was daydreaming today about homes … which included a few (more than a few?) google searches and virtual tours and floor plans and gallery browses.  And since it hasn’t been the most uplifting week, I found myself falling deeper and deeper into self-pity.

Why wasn’t I where I wanted to be … why hadn’t I achieved what I wanted to achieve … why did everything feel so difficult, so challenging?

And then I wallowed some more.

Driving home, instead of listening to a good book and escaping into another world, I called the man and wallowed some more, sniffling and hiccupping into the phone.  He spoke purposefully but with compassion.  He said “Becoming miserable can happen to anyone. Staying miserable is our own fault.”

And he said it again as we met each other’s gaze over the kitchen island.

And I knew he was SO right.

The thing is, last year, as we launched into 2013, I thought so much about staying upbeat ~ about meeting my diagnosis head on and not allowing it to control me, or ruin me.

And then somewhere along the way, I lost that outlook.  I’m pretty sure it was when I broke my foot ~ which is sad, because that happened nearly seven months ago.  My attitude was compounded by other health stuff … which might have been triggered by my poor attitude.  Basically a vicious cycle of ‘ugh.’

Even just snapping out of it tonight has made me, in a small way, feel lighter.  It really is such a mental battle.  It’s about finding the positive, and working toward betterment rather than focusing on the negative and always seeing the short-comings.  I think being negative is so much easier ~ it stems from insecurity and feeling slighted or as though an injustice has been done.  It’s harder to always work for the good.  (Sidenote:  My acting teaching in college was big on ‘por los buenos’ … aka, for the good.  All character motivation was working por los buenos ~ something that helped make seemingly dark or bad characters have believable motivation and depth).  But the thing is, quality of life exists when focusing on life’s blessings rather than life’s curses.  And as difficult as that may be, I think with practice, it will get easier.  And hopefully both I and my beloved husband can find our way back to a better mental place.

Some days are harder than other days.

Recently, I’ve had a string of bad days and it’s hard to recover from that.

Last night I said to John ~ “Sometimes, after a difficult day, or a grueling meeting, when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror I’m surprised that I’m not the ugliest hag of a troll with no brain whatsoever.  Because after spending too much time listening to how certain people talk to me, it’s hard to imagine NOT being the dumbest, ugliest, most clueless person ever.  Since that’s how I’m treated.”  And that can basically sum up a certain percentage of my days at work.

I think we all probably have days like that.  And then we come home, and make a comforting dinner, pour a restorative glass of wine, curl up to watch “Downton Abbey” … and for just a moment, things don’t seem so bad anymore.

And then the next day arrives with frightening speed.  And it just keeps happening … over, and over and over again.

It’s hard not to find some of one’s identity in the work we do, in the days spent with the same people ~ not, perhaps people that we would choose to socialize with, but people who make up the bigger picture of ‘work.’  And our self-confidence comes from that, from how well we do our jobs, from the feedback, from the way co-workers treat and interact with you.

But then there are those moments, when work has been challenging and long and exhausting, and you’re finally done, and sitting around with the group of people you’ve put all the blood sweat and tears in with … and there’s a camaraderie and an understanding.  And you know that even if you get annoyed or frustrated or just plain sick of these people, in the end, you all have each other’s back.  You’re friends on a different level, friends who all “get it.”  And that’s what makes all the other b.s. worth it.

Sometimes my brain catches a thought, and starts rolling with it … and then all of a sudden, I’m remembering things I haven’t thought of in years.

It can be a good thing ~ a fun thing.  Remembering the neighbor’s yard when I was five, and the three large stones that as kids, we named.  Thinking about the forts that my brother and I built in his closet when we lived in New Jersey, or the games we used to play on the staircases ~ ravenous crocodiles and alligators lurking on the bottom steps.

On the other hand, sometimes I remember things I’m not really proud of ~ moments in life when I wish I’d made a different decision, said a different thing, walked a different way.  Those trains of thought are uncomfortable, and humbling.

Something I began contemplating this morning was the idea of friendship.  I have had my fair share of friendships ~ good, bad, superficial, meaningful.  I guess it applies to relationships, too.  Some of my friendships have ended because I walked away, some because I was left and some were just mutual.  But isn’t it amazing, as life keeps rambling along, which friends have been around for most of the journey?

And, more pointedly, which are not?

I like being in my thirties ~ I feel more settled, more focused, more true to who I am.  I think, for most of my twenties I forgot ~ and after I forgot, I allowed (or couldn’t control?) my insecurities to run rampant and make (many) terrible decisions.  I think ~ once you lose your direction, your focus ~ if you don’t have good people around you, it’s really hard to find your way back.

And for a lot of time in my twenties, I didn’t have very good people around me.  Well, that’s not entirely accurate.  I’m sure to other people some of my former friends were, are and will continue to be good people.  But they weren’t good people or good friends to me.  And as I thought about all of that today, I got really disappointed in myself.

I very clearly remembered having moments when I wondered what happened to me ~ what happened to the person I’d been ‘before,’ the things I’d cared about and valued.  Thinking about those years of confusion and darkness was almost… sad.  And, while it doesn’t make me feel a lot better, thinking it through now makes it easier to see how I’d fallen into such a bad place   Some people head down a bad path, and never recover.  Potential is lost, and a human life becomes a cautionary tale.  I think there was a moment when I could have become stuck.  But I didn’t.  And even though remembering some of the things I did and decisions I made make me want to crawl into  a dark hole and never emerge, I guess I’m also glad that a point came when i decided I was done wasting my life away.

Friends are important.  Of course, family is as well, but friendship is something different, something precious.  I feel as though I’ve finally arrived at a place in my life when none of my friendships are toxic.  In a way, it’s sad that women are as vicious as we are ~ on the other hand, I know that the friends I have now are real, and true.  And they know and like the person I am ~ not the broken shell of a person people took advantage of for most of my twenties.

I’m glad to be where I am now.  I think I might not have found myself here if I hadn’t struggled through my twenties, fallen a thousand times and finally gotten back up the thousand and first.  But thinking too hard about it still hurts a little.  I could focus on the positive ~ I got through it, am a little bit stronger, a little bit smarter and a lot more aware of who I am.  But sometimes thinking of how many bad decisions I made, people I trusted … shudders.

On the plus side, it was all in the past.  And remembering it will hopefully help me from making those mistakes again.