The Only Thing Better than an Hour of Tennis is Two Hours of Tennis
The Facebook, G+ and Twitter fast is going better than I’d ever imagined. I have seen a drop off of readership here and I’m sorry about that but I try to tell myself that at some point my friends will think, “I haven’t heard from Jessica in a while. Maybe I should check her blog.” Or maybe not. Maybe I’m missable. That’s okay with me too.
I had a tennis match at 9 this morning and typically you have 90 minutes on the court before someone gives you the boot. Sometimes that’s frustrating, sometimes 90 minutes is more than enough time to humiliate yourself. This morning I had a match with an actress. The pro had told me she was an actress and he’d also told me that he expected her to win the ladies 3.5 singles tourney (in which I’m competing). Actresses are my least favorite people, they’re sort of like bloggers with body dysmorphia thrown in and have a habit of actress avoidance.
The actress was very unactressy and that was just the beginning of a mostly perfect day. Of course she was tall and thin and she sort of lept across the court and she even beat me (but I really don’t think that will happen again). She was really nice, really fun to play tennis with (we were stuck at deuce a zillion times) and when we stopped to chat and catch our breaths she was really insightful and curious. So when I got a text that my 11am meeting was pushed to 11.15 and it was 10.40 and 4-2 I was thrilled to be able to finish the second set. Of course it was a 55 degree morning and my arthritis hates the cold so it was absolute kismet that I would have a 1.45 acupuncture appointment.
Is there any cliche I haven’t become?
From tennis there was a meeting with Glass Elevator and every so often I pinch myself because I realize that I’m working with women who are bright and creative and articulate and I’ve somehow fooled them into taking me along for the ride. We are SoClose to being able to share an exciting new project with the world that will have you laughing and loving the way we communicate.
And to round out the perfection it’s my husband’s first night away. I love that man but I love the first night he’s gone. I’m going to sleep diagonal after watching Downton Abbey or some other estrofest and in addition to not having put on any makeup I haven’t brushed my hair nor do I plan on it. That first night away is good for both of us. The second night I really miss him and the third night is downright lonely. The fourth night is miserable and I usually start inviting people for dinner and I’m thrilled to say that this time there will be no fifth night. He’ll be home for Super Bowl.
Which reminds me of my own pending travel and the fact that I’ve booked airline tickets for myself and my son but not Mr. G. His new work schedule has been so awful that we are doubting that he’ll come along for spring break so rather than buying and not using a ticket we’ve decided to roll the dice and if he can join us he will. Jane will be in London and Alexander and I will return to Amelia Island with a friend of his. It’s our first time doing anything like this and I see it as a sign of marital strength even though it has me feeling lonely and overwhelmed in advance.
2013 will be the year of independence. Unwanted independence for both of us. I’m not worried about if we can do it. I’m just a little pissy that we have to.