So, I welcome 2012 with open arms, I really do. 2011 had its ups and downs for me but overall I'd call it a mediocre year at best. I learned a lot about me this past year. I also learned a lot about how other people see me. Lately, I've been on this running binge. I say binge because I'm sure it won't last. It never does. Its not even a New Year's resolution. I tend to be an over-analyzer and can't get my head to shut up so in an effort to quiet down the chatter, I run. That's all it is. I put on my headphones and hope something speaks to me, distracts me....or hell, that some hot guy in a Jeep is thinking "Heeyyy Baby" and stops to take me to dinner. Omg, totally kidding. I just totally admire those people that can hit the pavement effortlessly and run like gazelles. I mean, I huff and I puff when I run...mouth open and my throat burns from sucking in the cold air. Yeah, its not cute but it feels good. When I'm done, it feels really great.
Since November strange things have happened to me. I say strange but other people roll their eyes at that. I feel that people have been overly generous and kind lately. I'm not one to kick a gift horse in the mouth but really it puzzles me. Because of my innate need to analyze every single who, why, how and what, I have spent the majority of the past two months trying to figure out why certain people are so nice to me. I think I figure if things get too good or are going too well, I'll get sucker punched with something far worse than all the greatness combined on a polar level. Skeptic? Cynic? Overly cautious? Paranoid? Crazy? Perhaps all of the above.
At any rate, let me let you in on my today. My planning for today had actually started last night. Sitting all day in my apartment after my NYE at the cabin and catching up on some much needed rest and relaxtion (sans children), reading and watching television, I decided that I needed to get out and about today. So, the issues weighing down my thoughts here of late involve a situation with a boy. I'm not going into details about who this boy is. If you know me, you know who it is. Strike that, if your name is Carly, you know who the boy is. If you don't, you don't need to. At any rate, I can't figure this species out. Who is the closest person I can talk to that would help alleviate this puzzle? My brother, Quincy. Quincy, the eternal bachelor. If anyone can explain why some dude is being a complete idiot or douchebag its probably Quincy. Not because he is one but because he has that wiring.
I decided to go to the driving range with my brother. Learning to golf is on my bucket list and has been. I have my mom's starter set of clubs, shoes, etc. so I have no reason not to go. I actually like the driving range. And while I have 2 golf pros within reach, I needed some time with my brother. I rarely am around him without my boys and they hog all of his attention. Q accepted my invite. So, we decided on noonish to meet at Mister Tee and we did. We were there for almost 2 hours. I know I read too much into everything and while I don't make New Year's resolutions I do have a list of things I'd like to change or tweak or modify about me. Lesson from the driving range: When swinging a club, it is more natural for me to swing it more like a baseball bat hitting a baseball. Ironically, and in the same breath as that last statement, when I don't think about all the things put into a golf swing, I actually made contact with the ball and would even go as far to say it was "good"...On my drive home, that echoed in my brain, "...as unnatural as it is, stop thinking and it becomes natural..."
I didn't really get to chat with my brother about the issues that were weighing my head down so much here lately and realized that I didn't even think about those issues while at the range. So, it was a great distraction. But upon departure, a truck pulled in the parking lot....the same kind of truck that "he" drives. Ok, Khaki, you're retarded. This is enough. "Hey Q, wanna go to Chikfila for lunch?" And he did. So off we went and we discussed said issues and I realized that I was correct. It really isn't about me. Its him....the dude. And that perhaps I should just "Let it Go" and go and not take things so personally sometimes. Note: I'm a work in progress.
So, I am heading home from all that golfing and decide that while I consumed the most unhealthy choice at Chikfila (chicken strips with mayonaise and polynesian sauce and waffle fries dipped in the same) it may not be a bad idea to knock out a few miles....or 3 before I get inside and lay down and either fall asleep or the soreness from my swinging sets in and I start making excuses not to run. I grab my headphones and start to run. I ran really hard after my .10th of a mile warm-up. I was feeling good. Rihanna was jamming out and I was bringing sexy back....all was right with the world until all of a sudden after mile 2, I felt this horrible burn in the back of my throat and I couldn't even spit to make it better. Yeah, I tried. Gross, I know. Get over the visual already. So, I'm walking up the hill and feel like instead of overkill on the exercise today, its time to go in and focus on the relax part of my day. I don't normally cut through the entrance over by the leasing office but I did to see if the office was opened because I need to drop off rent. I always like going in and talking to Orion if he's working. I saw an elderly woman walking with a cane who looked beyond frustrated. She is trying to walk up the stair but there is no railing. And she's grasping for it and shuffling her feet but cannot make her legs lift to take that step. I kind of panicked for a second and ran over to her for fear she may fall. She was alone. I offered her my arm to help her up the steps and she is yelling at me. Not out of anger towards me but out of frustration because, "Everytime he leaves, things just fall apart. The kitchen sink is about to flood the apartment and he's not home. I need them to come fix it. I have no water. My TV is out and he's going to have to call someone to fix it. Oh why does the world fall apart when he leaves? He's on that cruise with her and left me here. Oh, oh, oh. I don't know what to do!!!!!!!" Immediately, a smile so big consumes my face and I could not be more eager to alleviate all that is going through this woman's mind. Like almost a feeling of "Thank you, God...for picking me on this one."
Now, I love people. I love old people. I love young people. I love helping people...I think I was put on this planet to first, be a mother. Second, to help people. That's why I'm torn at my job right now. I love the people I do have the privelege to help and interact with dearly but that is only about 10% of my job. The other 90% is producing financials which means being married to Excel and Access and well, not my idea of a dream job.
So, the leasing office is closed. I have my cell phone and I call the emergency number and leave a message with the service. This woman has no phone number though. I can't give a call back number for her because she said, "He took his phone and I don't know how to use the phone." And in my mind, I'm wondering who the hell is "he" and what was he thinking leaving this woman alone. Good gravy!!
If there's anyone on the entire apartment complex that has the direct number to the maintenance guy, Dwayne, its probably me. Sidenote, Kasyn has clogged our toilet with more superheroes than I can even count. Dwayne is one of 5 boys raised by a single mother and he told me one time that watching me handle my boys makes him call his mom and thank her. I live behind the leasing office where the maintenance golf carts often gather in the mornings. Dwayne has helped me unload groceries, let us swim after hours with the boys, fixed things in my apt on the sly without a formal request to the office, etc. Oh Miss Cornelia, do not worry. I can help you.
I called Dwayne and he said he would be over in a second. The lady, named Cornelia, did know her apartment number. So, off we scuffle, back to her apartment. Umm, her apartment was a nice big fat zig zag away from mine/leasing office. At the pace we walked, I'm guessing it took her an hour to get there. I cut through breezeways. She did not.
The whole walk back she is still panicked over being left alone. It crossed my mind on the way back if I her sink was really flooding. I have an 85 year old grandmother that lives with my mother and I have the privelege of watching from time to time. I get it. I learned from Miss Cornelia that she was born on March 20th and that "every March 20th is a splendid Spring day"...I refrained from telling her that last March 20th it was a cold dreary snowy day. I only remember this because it was the first time my twins saw snow. She asked me my name. Rather than get into all the complications of a name like Khaki....I simply told her my name was Kady. My initials are KD and my dad used to call me Kady. My name was really irrelevant. It worked. She paused and told me that I was an angel. She kept pinching my arm and asking if I was real. I told her about my three boys. Several times she insisted that she was too much trouble and interrupting my day and that I should just leave her. I refused and told her that she had no idea how happy I was to have met her and there is no place I'd rather be than walking with her back to her apartment. She cried. I found out that her son was on a cruise with his girlfriend. She didn't like his girlfriend. And his girlfriend "isn't even half as pretty as you are Kady"...(insert shaking head and smile). Aha, we make it to her apartment and she cannot use the key on her wrist to open the door. And I have to question how she even locked the door in the first place. So, I help her unlock her door and guide her in. I ask her if I can take a look at the sink.
NO water is running. No noise is coming from this apartment. I walk over to the kitchen sink. She grabs my arm and yells at me not to touch it because it the handle is broken and it's going to flood the apartment. Umm, no it isn't, actually. I tell her to leave it alone and Dwayne will come in a second. I ask her if I can get her a drink or help her get situated. She tells me that her television is out and her son will have to call the company out to fix it. Oh I really know this drill. This is Nanny 101 for me. I fix her television to the news channel. Again, she pinches me. I'm an angel sent from God and am not real. I just laugh and shake my head. "Miss Cornelia, what else can I do for you? I really think you should eat or drink something, that was a very long walk for you." She asks for milk. There is very little. She starts to cry. She doesn't know when her son will be home to get her some more milk. And she can't drink water because the sink is broken. I tell her I'm going to go to the grocery store and get her a gallon of milk. I check the labeling to make sure I get the right one and am ready to go. She reaches into her pocket and wants to pay me. She wants to pay me for the milk, for the walk, for calling the maintenance guy, for fixing the tv. I told her that there is no way on earth I'm accepting any money from her. She is a very stubborn woman and hands me $1. Then says, "Wait, take $3 because I'm wasting your time." I laugh. I take the money simply because I've had this argument with my grandmother before and really, its pointless. I also know what its like to want to give so much more back to someone helping you than you are able. I go to the store and come right back. Omg, she left the front door wide open. I knock and hollar for her almost afraid of what I might find. She's playing a game of Solitaire on the kitchen table and smiling and she's singing. I approach her and put the milk in the refrigerator. She smiles and claps her hands together, "Kaaaddyyyyy!!! You came back! I left the door open for you." I set the receipt for the gallon of milk that cost $2.98 and set the $.02 right next to it. She is so adamant about me keeping the change. All two cents. She holds my hands and thanks me over and over and tells me how so many good things are heading my way. And just like that she starts to cry. And I just know what she's about to say to me. I interrupt her...."Miss Cornelia, is that Solitaire? I don't know how to play Solitaire. Can I just watch you for a few minutes?" I sat and watched her so calmly but with very quick hands, play her card game. She is the fastest Solitaire player I have ever seen. I smiled and gave her a hug and headed for the door. Without looking away from her game, she hollars to me, "Kady, you forgot to take your change." "Oh yes, Miss Cornelia, I did. Thank you." And I picked up my two cents and headed home. I've thought about her non-stop since. I'm going to go check on her here in a bit. She made my day. A little niceness goes a long way.
