Monday, June 30, 2008

We're fine! We're fine!

One afternoon a few years ago, Ann and I were driving to the Studio in Cambridge. I was at the helm of her car, which is how we roll. Right near where I-84 spills into the Pike, a vehicle came to a dead stop right in the middle of the fast lane, which is where we were. Since all the lanes were nearly bumper-to-bumper, I could do nothing but slam on the brakes.

It was really scary. But the scariest part is the part where I started shouting, "We're fine! We're fine!" over and over again, at a point where it was not clear that we were nor would be fine.

Perhaps it was the power of my positive thinking that helped us narrowly escape a giant highway pileup. I would like to think that it helped in some way.

We drove a distance in silence. We were a bit shaken (not stirred) by the whole experience. Suddenly, it blew over when Ann began openly mocking me by shouting, "We're fine! We're fine!"

She asked with a laugh, "What was that, 'We're fine! We're fine!' thing all about?"

Hell if I knew. But it's become a thing we shout when things are more stressful than we'd like. We've even shared it with some colleagues. Every now and again, you'll hear cries of, "We're fine! We're fine!" coming from our area of cubicles followed closely by laughter and hard work.

We're basically in a constant state of, "We're fine! We're fine!" in the house right now. Things are just starting to shape up and seem almost like it's a place where people can safely live.

Scott's doing much better than I am. I have a hard time with chaos, and have been falling apart regularly due to same.

I've been trying to keep it together so I can get things done, but sometimes I find it pretty paralyzing. Also, I have been having the racing thoughts about everything we need to do. A couple nights ago, I came undone reciting lists of things we had to do. I kept listing all the things and talking in circles and making just about no sense. When I had worked myself up into crying out loud, Scott handed me a clipboard and some paper and advised me to make a list.

So I did, and it really helped. Now we have the clip board and a dry-erase board with the stuff we need to do and want to do ranked by when we want to do it and how big the job is. This is progress.

Moving is so hard. I don't know how people do it. I know people who move every couple years and I, frankly, don't know how they maintain any level of sanity. I really don't intend to move ever again. It may happen; since I am not a seer, I can't know what the future holds. As far as I'm concerned, however, I'm here for the long haul.

We made some real progress over the weekend. My dad and I hooked up the stove and lit all the pilots (scary) on Saturday. When I say, "my dad and I", what that really means is my dad did it while I stood by and handed him things (and worried just a little bit about blowing up). On Sunday, Margaret came over for most of the day and helped me set up the pantry and unpack all the kitchen stuff. All of these things mean I can cook up proper meals again and we can stop eating take-out and mooching off our friends.

Also on Sunday, the Comcast man came and fixed the internet connection in the house, so now we're online. I can't seem to get the wireless to work properly, but at least we can plug in and have a connection.

So, in sum, we're fine! We're fine.

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