Bumping into Zaza

Wouldn’t you know, I just ran into Zaza*, my assistant from work, as I was taking out the trash this evening. I hadn’t seen her for months even though she happens to live just around the corner from me what with me hardly ever getting out. I like this girl a whole lot, but I have to admit that when I heard her call out my name, I felt trapped, caught with my pants down, in other words, just a tad anxious. Thank god I’d at least taken the time to brush my hair before going down there, because the truth is, I’ve never been this unkempt for quite this long before in my life. I was even self-conscious about having no makeup on, even though I normally wear very little of it, but just enough to look fresh and healthy, as opposed to unwashed, overtired, sun deprived and in remission from a long illness. For me, there’s rarely been an occasion that doesn’t call for mascara and lip balm at the very least. I was also worried that she’d I had nothing interesting to say. All this was going through my head as Zaza was making her way through the slush and snow while holding her grocery bags to cross over to my side of the street .

She just looked so pleased to see me and we kissed each other on the cheek the way us frenchies do, which put me a little bit more at ease. At least she didn’t seem to find me as repulsive as I thought I was. She asked how I was doing and what was new of course. Questions which fill me with such dread lately. I told her I was keeping to myself and mostly spending time on my blog, but I found myself apologizing for things that I have no reason to apologize about — that I’m not being a productive member of society or making any meaningful contributions. I guess much of my insecurity stems from the fact that I’ve had countless nightmares that people I work with — and there are many what with the countless freelancers I hire — are saying that there’s nothing actually wrong with me, that I’m just faking it all and just being an over-pampered princess.

I’m always so shocked by the radical difference between the way I see and talk about myself and the way others react to me. I wish I could learn to be kinder to myself, that I could learn what “having fun” means because it seems that the kinds of activities I find entertaining don’t officially fall under the “having fun” category. Not that I really care about being different than others, but it’s just that I keep wondering what I might be missing out on. Blogging to me is fun. I’m lucky that there are plenty of others who seem to think that way too.

Of course I asked how things are going at work. It took her a while to adapt to my departure, but everything is rolling along just fine now, which was good to know. Again, countless nightmares of everything going wrong while I’m gone and people cursing me for not having held the fort though thick and thin as I had done up until I couldn’t any more. I’m sure my boss is curious to know what’s going on with me, and what I’m considering as my next move. Zaza didn’t seem comfortable when I asked, but she indicated that she sensed the same thing. That would be normal — they can’t take any permanent decisions or give my job to someone else as long as I’m on disability leave, and I’m sure that must make a certain amount of planning difficult. They aren’t allowed to ask me any questions or put pressure on me that way either and I sometimes feel guilty about not being able to give them any indications. But what can I say, after all these moths… sure I’ve made lots of progress, but there’s still a good way to go. I wish I had some answers, but I don’t yet. It is what it is. I guess things will happen in their own time. No sense in pushing myself only to end up with another crisis situation when I buckle under another stress overload. And I do seem to have a knack for biting off more than I can chew. No. But a walk with Zaza now and then when the weather starts warming up again might do me some good.

I can say that these last months have finally taught me to accept that sometimes we just have to let go and see where life takes us. I’m not even a little bit curious to find out where this is all leading to right now. Only the future will tell, and I’m okay with that. For now.

* not her real name.

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