Typically, Friday Isn't My Favorite Day of the Week

Most people look forward to Fridays - "Workin for the Weekend"...  I'm not one of them.  Ask me sometime and I'll tell you why. As #7 used to say (sing) while watching "The Lion King" as a young, pre #7... "Be frefared".  I can make it a pretty short story, but if I've had a cocktail, it can be colorful commentary.

Yesterday was a little different.  We'd been dismissed at 3:00 p.m. on Tuesday, prior to the holiday... and then on Thursday, the day after.  That "announcement" came early on in the day - both of those days.  Yesterday there was no notification that Friday was going to go the same way.  But it was a Friday, we were that close to the weekend, I was in shorts, the sun was shining and I was feeling nearly "caught up" - which I will never be in the LIVE T.V. industry.  But I felt pretty good.  It also helped that the day before I had gone to my family doctor for yet another bout with hormonal imbalances/issues - something???

No... I'm not yelling at anyone.  I'm not crying.  I'm not anxious.  I'm not hungry.  I'm not unhappy.  I'm not manic.  I'm fine.  I've been so fine that 2 months ago I went off of that pin drop of hormone lotion that they prescribed about a year ago that caused me nothing but headache ~ scratch that ~ weight gain for upwards of 3-4 months until it stabilized. So over time I went from twice a day to uhhhh never.  Who'da thunk it?  But in the last 9 days I gained 9 pounds.  NINE.  One a day - if you averaged it.  I think the first week was actually 7 pounds.  I called THEN but couldn't get in until Thursday of the "Second Week of Bullshit, inexcusable, unexplainable, WTF did I do - Weight Gain".  So I knew something was up.  My daily intake goes like this:  5 ounces of milk with half a Carnation Instant Breakfast.  Go work out, come home and have one fried egg.  Drink water, gatorade, take my black cohosh and off to work.  Eat an orange, apple or banana around 11, home for lunch where I eat either one piece of all wheat toast or a small serving of leftovers.  Back to work.  Home.  Make dinner.  The end.  My portions are good.  I work out close to 75 minutes 5-6 times a week.  So..Blood checked (it's STILL not my thyroid), measurements, pounding on my stomach, checking nodes...  Nada.  So he gave me the thing that helped out last year - and said that, since I use it so sparingly and it's once a year - (assuming it works again this time) that next year - when (if) I feel my weight spike in a short time period - to call and the prescription will just be written.  So there's that.  BUT - the reason I go into detail is because my little pill that has to be taken prior to 10 AM on the days I take it - gives me a good zing of energy.  Because I'm not energetic enough...  

So it's Friday.  I'm feeling good (better).  Program changes came across and they were for next week (some of them) so I took the bull by the horns and attacked them.  I usually don't because they are a lot of work, or can be.  Ugh... but some of them were for, as I stated, next week so the job had to get done.

As I was getting them printed off, fired out a few changes to the reps the receptionist rang thru to tell me I had a call.  I RARELY get calls.  I got more this week than any other due to my boss being out of town.  So I quickly weighed whether I wanted to potentially get interrupted from my progress and said "OK".  Phone rings.  This is my best recollection of how it all went down ~ at least a very small part of it:

Me:  This is Kathy.

Voice:  Kathy?

Me:  Yes.

Voice:  Hi Kathy.  This is Lynn Fiorillo, (quickly here I think, "wow, that's a coincidence... a rep/buyer with that last name"... she contines) Pat's sister.

Me:  Oh.  <stammering> Hello.

Lynn:  I wanted to call and tell you that I read your blog every day and to tell you that the things you write about Pat mean so much to me/us.  

Me:  <a bit speechless and not thinking this is the right thing to respond with says>  Welllll, uhm, thank you. <?>

Lynn:  It's nice/comforting <?> to know how many people Pat knew, liked, touched...

And so it went.  I found myself choking up a few times in our conversation and we talked about Pat, his trip to California just weeks before he "left" us all, to see her son - his nephew, Cameron, play baseball at the University of Redlands.  She talked of his courage on that trip - which wasn't even a question mark for me (or her), knowing Pat.  We talked a little about my not looking forward to "empty nest" and she thanked me again for my words.  To which I said... "I loved Pat.  Robin was his in home wife, I was his at work, naggy wife." and something about how I was glad I could keep Pat "alive" out there for her (them).  

I called The Dad right afterwards, after I collected myself and told him about my call from Lynn.  He said I should feel good about it.  And I did... I do.  I can't put my finger on it - she didn't make me sad, I was so glad to have touched her, but for some reason, I mostly felt a sadness.  Again.  

About an hour later - I got this text:

(Side note:  The "asshole" part is about The Dad getting Thursday and Friday off after the 4th).

So at this point, I'm wondering what is going to happen on this particular Friday.  July 6th once held no real meaning for me - but I don't think I'll ever forget it now.  It will be a part of me.  The phone call.  The text.  Two things that just shouldn't have "happened" on July 6th, 2012.

<sigh>


At 3:03, the big boss came by and said "Bye Minnerly".  I said "You leavin?"  He said "No... same thing as yesterday and Tuesday.  Take off."


Friday the 6th just looked up a little... 

Lynn - when you read this (and I know you will) - please know I am so, so so so... SO glad you called.  I told Robin that I knew as I teared up while telling "The Dad" about it that Pat would like to slap me at that point.  He'd tell me to pull up my big girl pants and get to work.  And so I did.  Call again... anytime.