I rolled over and looked at the clock.
Fuck.
It was two.
In the afternoon.
I raised my hand to my eyes to block out the sunlight and rolled back over to my other side. I wanted more than anything to continue sleeping. I was just so, so tired. But I had to get up.
This day, I had to get up.
Two days after my Mother passed, it was Mother’s Day. My Boyfriend and I were still at her house, wrapping things up. It was my last day before I was to return to NYC. As I’ve mentioned, I now have a really inappropriate habit of writing things in my head before they happen. Picturing how things will unfold and how I’ll feel about them. Since Mother’s Day was the day I was supposed to be in NYC participating in the race I’d been training for, I thought I would post a picture on Facebook and Instagram of my feet in my new running shoes with the caption being something about how I was supposed to be in NYC to run in the Mother’ Day Race, but instead I was home after saying goodbye to my own sweet Mother. And then I’d state that I was still going to run the four miles in her honor.
And that I loved her.
I thought this would be a lovely tribute. But in reality the reason I wanted to do it was more selfish. One thing I’d realized was that I’d rather everyone just find out at once, rather than have to awkwardly respond to various individual texts and messages from friends who didn’t know, them saying, “Hey!! What’s been going on? Are you getting excited for the move home?? 🙂 ”
Two years ago, I reached out to my NYC friends and asked them, “If you only had one more year left in the city – what would be the things you’d most want to do?” I received a really unique and fun list of true NYC experiences. I vowed to do one thing a month until I had gotten through the whole list.
Naturally, since then, I’d done none of them.
But now, because I only had two months left, I was galvanized to make my way through my NYC Bucketlist. I prioritized the things I wanted to do and set about each week making one thing happen.
It was a really amazing journey.
“Do you have any news?”
Marc shook his head as he flipped open his take-out container. “Not really. I keep hearing conflicting reports.”
“Yeah, me too,” I sighed. “I mean, it could be as early as mid-March, late as June. That’s what I’ve heard.”
“What a fuckshow,” he said and then dug into his tiramisu.
One of our office mates joined us in the conference room. “So when do you think the next round of layoffs is coming?”
Marc and I gave each other the side-eye. “Who knows?” I said airily. Marc became engrossed in his dessert and I became entranced with the snowfall outside our Park Avenue window. The room became heavily silent.
Our coworker left, knowing she wasn’t going to infiltrate this meeting.
“You’re going to FORGET.”
“I’m not going to forget.”
“TRACEY. YOU WILL.”
I sighed.
It was Saturday morning and I hadn’t even had my first cup of coffee. But McKenzie was already back from a ten mile run so she was all riled up, reprimanding me on Facebook messenger for breaking my promise in March to continue to publish here and there.
It was now the middle of April. And I’d published nothing.
“You’ve been hanging around Lux too much,” I wrote. “Stop with the all-caps. It’s too early for that.”
She ignored me. “SO MUCH has happened, how are you going to remember it all?”
“I’ve been taking notes.” And with that, I got up from my desk and set about making some coffee.
“Happy New Year, Bitches!”
I looked at the Facebook message on my phone, placed it back on the nightstand and then rolled over, pulling a pillow over my head. It was Friday, January 2nd and I was starting the first weekend of the New Year celebrating with a nap with The Cat.
The phone pinged again and I wearily reached over to pick it up. I looked at the screen.
“When do we start running?!”
I groaned, and was about to set it aside again when:
“Helllooooooooo!”
Two seconds later:
“Tracey? McKenzie?”
“Guys??????”
I sighed in exasperation. I turned off the phone and went back to my nap. When I woke up later, there were two more Facebook messages and two threatening texts:
“TRACEY. ANSWER ME. NOW.”
“WE ARE GOING RUNNING.”
Oh god.
It was Lux.
Recently I received a Facebook message from a friend telling me she was getting a divorce. This is a person I’ve known since Junior High and although we’ll comment on each other’s statuses here and there, we haven’t actually talked in many, many years.
But this is one of the unexpected results I’ve experienced from working on this blog. Because I write the way I do, people feel comfortable reaching out and telling me their stories.
It’s pretty cool.
“Um, hi,” I said and cleared my throat. I clasped my hands in my lap to steady them. “Thank you guys for coming.” I took a deep breath. “I’ve asked you all here today because – ”
“Hold up,” Floyd interjected. He was typing away on his laptop. “Every good meeting needs a soundtrack. Okay…okay,” He continued clicking. “And…BAM.” He hit a key definitively and looked up at me. “Now, we can start.” The room filled with House music.
“Okay,” I said slowly. “Thank you. Anyway…,” I started and looked over the group. I realized then how incredibly nervous I was.
Continue reading August 9th, 2013. Part One.
“Sorry, I’m late,” Archie said, as he entered the conference room, with his open laptop resting in crook of his arm. “And I can’t stay long. I’m meeting my friend.”
“No worries,” I said. “We’re pretty much done.”
“I have to go too,” Lainie said, as she rose from the table.
“Okay,” I said and looked up at her. “Thanks so much for your help on all of this.”
After the details of The Dating Intern situation had been settled, the Social Media Marketing Team had actually focused and given me some awesome ideas on how to build readership of the blog. I wasn’t sure I could implement them all before the party, but they could definitely be priorities for Year Two.
Not Quite A Cougar 