Image by alexis22578 via Flickr

Some days just seem to require a lot of energy. I’m not really sure why the universe puts them in, except for maybe variety. But, the other day certainly was one of those high energy (required) days.

The morning started started with a good nights sleep. I went to bed by 9:30pm the night before. That’s a record for me. I opened my email while making my husband’s lunch. I had an email from someone who I work with, occasionally. One email was titled “urgent” while the others had text that begged a phone call. The emails were sent at 1:30 and 2am, whilst I was blissfully asleep. So, I sent a quick email back, at 5:18am, wondering if now was an okay time to chat. After my husband left, I would be able to have an uninterrupted phone call. He replied, yes, to please call.

In this group where we volunteer, he had inquired about a possible paid position, and was greeted with enthusiasm to this inquiry. When he checked on the position a few days later, whatever was said, in this exchange, he heard that he wasn’t wanted. Suddenly, his enthusiasm was traded for feeling undervalued and not wanted. This meant he couldn’t sleep and was wracked with insecurities. I tried to give him comfort and reassure him that at least I valued his insights. I had to get ready for my day, so after twenty minutes, I told him I had to go. The conversation reminded me of the importance of being present and mindful.

Despite my planning, good nights sleep, and getting up early, I still found myself rushing around. Rushing to get myself ready. Rushing to get Levi’s lunch together. Rushing to get Levi together. Finally, we left the house, and zipped as fast as I will, across town. When I drop Levi off, we crass MAX tracks, and then, when I round the loop to work, I cross them again. Each time, when my back wheels were on the tracks, the “train is coming” lights came on. I missed the train, twice. Usually I get stuck with the train, so despite the heart flutters from hearing the alarm while on the tracks, it was a happy coincidence.

Then, I got into work. While I was checking my email, pre-urgent phone call, I had an email exchange with our tech guy. One of the laptops I routinely use didn’t work a few days before. I restarted it, twice, but the keyboard would not respond. The function keys didn’t even work! He sent me an email that it worked fine when he started it up. So, I responded in the only way that seemed reasonable stating, “That’s simply not fair!” I really wanted to stomp my feet.

When I got into work (after missing the train twice) he had left a sticky inquiring to the wherabouts of the power cord. I briskly walked to the laptop’s storage place, opened the case and fished out the cord. I put it back and briskly walked back to my desk. I chirped to him, while he was chatting with another, that the cord was where I left it. He didn’t believe me and demanded I showed him. Gladly, I did.

After I pulled out the cord he said, “That’s a figment of your imagination.”

“This?!” I squawlked pointing to the cord, “is a figment of my imagination?!”

“Yes,” he affirmed.

I laughed, “Welcome to my imagination,” and walked back to my desk.

That day was also board meeting day, where my role is not to participate but to take notes. I can’t help but nod occassionally or laugh when something is funny. It takes an inordinate amount of self control. And, for the most part, I think I accomplish it well (to zip it and only take notes). This day, the Board President made a comment about the wisdom of the board indicating more than half the members and their gray hair. My hand instinctively combed my hair, suddenly paranoid that the 8 I’ve been tracking multiplied in that moment.

My boss whispered, “That was a bold move.”

I wasn’t meaning to be bold! The energy of the day overwhelmed. Maybe my hair isn’t as dark as I think it is! Maybe it’s time to dye!

Alas, I’m okay. I think I even combed out 6 of the grays in my brushing this week.

I ended the high energy day with cleaning the bathroom, long over due, while Levi took a bath. At least things got done, even if my risk management skills leave a lot to be desired when combing through my not-so-gray hair.

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