To Stress or not to Stress
By Nannygoat Totes on September 15, 2013
I had never considered myself a stresser. My sense of humor and patience usually carries me through the tough days. Usually. Yesterday was an exception. After working overtime the latter part of the week and into the weekend I found myself starting to get a bit agitated. Too much going on, not enough hours in a day, and I forgot to recharge my phone. Saturday morning I was supposed to be at the farmers market "selling" my tote bags, purses and other home made items. After the market we all were going to the local cafe to talk about how to make the market more successful next year as this year the most tables at one time was four--yes 4. The town we are in is a very small town and it was not a good year for produce and they have not had a farmers market for three years and we were hidden away from the flow of traffic. There are probably other reasons that this year has not been a success for any of the marketers. I do have to say that because it was located near a lake the sun sparkling in the quiet early morning along with the birds and conversation with fellow marketers and wonderful people who stopped by did make it a nice way to spend the morning. But this morning I was at my full time job. We weren't even told how long we were working. I was hoping we would get off at noon so I could at least still make the lunch uptown and make my views known about the market's location. While all this was going through my mind I was thinking about the usual Saturday things. The laundry,my sewing, the housework, my sewing,and all the while thinking about the class reunion that Chubby Hubby and I said we would attend that evening and what was I going to wear? At break I was talking too much (this is a sign of nervousness) I had another diet coke and thought about how I was going to quit the pop-not today!We got off work at 11:30. Good, I ran up to the market to let them know I would be at the lunch. No one was there! Ok, for whatever reason nobody made it today. It was a chilly morning. It did look like rain. But what about the lunch at the cafe? I swung by the cafe. There were two cars there. I didn't recognize them. I waited. I went inside and looked around. No one I knew. I checked my phone. Not noon yet. I waited in my car feeling quite anxious. Noon came and still no one showed up. I waited five more minutes then gave up. All right two of the stressers down, next... I grabbed lunch for me and Chubby Hubby and continued with this too busy of a day. I washed two loads of clothes planning an outfit or two in my mind for the evening with total strangers with whom I spent 12 years of my life (40 years ago). After shower, hair, and makeup I tried on one of the outfits in mind. No good! Another outfit. No good! I was wishing I had gone shopping for a new outfit, but the last time I did that I didn't wear it anyway. That's why there are clothes in my closet with price tags still attached. I decided on jeans and a nicer t-shirt, covered with a blue hoodie. Age apropriate? Probably not! Underdressed? Most definately! Done deal, not changing again, running out of options. Chubby Hubby was wearing his one pair of good pants held up with suspenders and a fun buttondown shirt with 30ish pin-up girls print. He lives in sweatpants so is physically uncomfortable wearing dressier clothes. That, along with the fact that he believed no one would recognize him was enough to make him very willing to skip it. But because I wanted to go he felt he must. We graduated together so one of us there without the other would require an explanation. The class reunion was held at the American Legion in our home town. It was crowded with the class of 73 and a party going on for a returning soldier from Afghanistan. I was very uncomfortable walking in, but so happy to walk in with my Chubby Hubby. We were greeted with hugs and smiles. The whole night was wonderful. Everyone seemed genuinely happy to see everyone else. It seems the older you get the more you want to connect with your past. The pretty girls were there smiling and talking to everyone. The shy guys were no longer shy, but had very interesting lives. Some of the classmates changed so much I didn't recognize them, others hadn't changed a bit. There was a bouquet of daisies(our class flower) for the classmates no longer with us. One girl admitted to still wearing short skirts, even though she had great-grandkids. Another says she still loves to party. At one point I checked the clock. After ten. Past our bedtime. I found Chubby Hubby still going strong. I talked to the girls I was in girl scouts with. We remembered trying to hypnotize one of the girls once on a camping trip. Another of the girls said she found her biological family. It was, as she said, like filling a void in her life. How nice for her! The next thing we knew it was nearly midnight and we were driving home after more hugs and smiles and exchanges of e-mail and phone numbers. We are both glad we went. Chubby Hubby isn't that skinny long-haired hippy anymore, but he still is the same guy. And I'm not that super-quiet wall flower I used to be, which I think suprised some people. Chubby Hubby and I sat up another hour after we got home just going over the night. We had such a good time I think we'll be talking about it for a long time. "Precious and Few" was our class song. I think memories like this night at our age are precious and few.