Sunday, April 15, 2012

Let the Games Begin!

I love walking/running around Greenlake – it always makes me feel better.  Not because of the exercise, but because there is always someone out there worse off than you.  After the long dreary winter, we have all gotten a little pallid and paunchy – some more than others and I am afraid I am in the “more than others” category. 

Today was a gorgeous spring day, like yesterday, and I was outside to soak it up.  After I got home from work both Saturday and Sunday.  At noon.  Poor me, I have a job I love and sometimes they make me work extra, I know I sound like a wuss, but couldn’t they have made me work extra in January?  Oh wait.  They did. 

Saturday was epic.  I had contractors at the house, a yard to mow, a meeting to attend, clothes to wash and then a charity event.  It was going to be non stop running no matter what.  Then I checked my Blackberry.  Shit.

DO NOT check your work email on the weekends, it can only lead to very bad things. 

I had gotten a request from our attorney that I knew would likely mean I would be rewriting the carefully prepared document I had spent the past two months writing and past six months researching in time for a morning committee call.  Yep, Sunday morning conference call.  I cried, I swore, I was able to get the document he needed from a colleague and do a best rewrite in a few hours while the contractors were here and mowed the lawn and did laundry in between iterations.  It led to some awkward moments – me telling the contractors I was going to have to take a shower while they were there (it just seemed like a really bad porno), me coming out of the shower in a towel to answer a call from the attorney and throwing around sentences like “409A valuation” and “salary compression compounded with increased market activity in the informatics sector” while dripping wet with soap left on my face and a half unshaved leg as they pretended I wasn’t really there and tried to look away in shame.  This was only a few minutes after they witnessed me throwing the weed-wacker across the yard and telling it to fuck itself.  They got really big tips. 

I was in a rush because I needed to get dressed for an annual charity event I attend with one of my oldest friends.  (Names WILL be changed to protect the uninnocent.)   I made it just in time for my meeting and showed up at a classic Seattle hangout dressed for a cocktail party.  Everyone else was in biker gear or goth cloth.  I took off my suit jacket to show off my tattoos so they didn’t flip me any shit and I kept flexing my pasty white arm (yeah!  You scared now!).  I hit three hipsters on fixies on my way off the Hill to make it back to pick up my reliable non sexual male life partner, Max, for the event. 

We arrived a little early and decided to class up Fremont by taking a walk down the Burke in dinner wear.  Then we entered the Hall of Darkness.  Or Fremont Studios or whatever.  The point is, the floor is uneven concrete and everyone at this event wears 8 inch heels, so we were all walking around trying not to fall onto the auction items or each other. 

I like to give a chunk of cash to charity because I think it is the right thing to do, and as a non profit veteran of 11 years, I know it funds the programs and salaries to support the key missions of the organizations I support.  Last night it was the Progressive Animal Welfare Society.  It holds a special place in my heart, because my mentor and manager at the City of Lynnwood, Robin Hall, SPHR, was on their board for years.  She died two years ago of cancer and the ache of losing her advice, friendship, wisdom and counsel - many years after I had moved on - is still there.  Plus, she convinced the Police Chief it was OK if I wore glitter on Fridays. 

So I bid on, and won, the cat topiary.  OK, you don’t “win” a topiary – you bid on it and hope you are more outlandish than the next person.  I won.  A cat topiary.  Which I have named Robin.  I have to water her every day.  Interestingly, the only living plant I have in my house is one given to me by my colleague Tracy at the City – it is still alive after 12 years, despite the fact that I am a vegetarian and it should be afraid of me.  Anyway, I now have to water the cat every day.  Hee.

The benefit was awesome – kitten kissing booth (with real kittens!), photo booth, live auction, silent auction and free wine.  Again, as a non profit veteran, the mantra is “get ‘em drunk and make ‘em cry”.  They succeeded.    As designated driver, I abstained even though my host had bid on a sommelier for the table for the evening and “won”.  I think I vaguely remember this from last year.  I think I bought Max.  I am not sure.  Or a beaver costume.  Whatever.  It is for charity. 

Let’s just say that a good time was had by everyone but me.  I cried, but since I couldn’t get drunk as the DD, I had to just sit there and be annoyed with everyone else.  Someone kept yelling “penis”, someone else was stealing votives and everyone else was sneaking the free wine into non portable containers.  I have always preferred hosting luncheons.  No one gets tossed and steals the Girl Scout cookies.  And no one dare yell “penis”. 

After efficiently (and bitchily, I will admit) taking care of the final details, I drove home to try and sleep before getting up at 6 a.m. to prepare for the committee call and finalize the documents.  My CEO thinks I am kind of a spaz (and he is kind of right, which is why I put it in my performance review and he initialed it, unedited), but I wanted everything to be perfect.  So I could not sleep.  I think I took 12 hits of Benadryl.  I hallucinated, but didn’t sleep. 

Finally get up at 5 a.m. and go in to work, rewrite everything.  By 9:30 a.m., everyone has changed their minds and we are back to the original document.  By 9:45, it is changed again and we are on our third revision, then we just declared a universal “fuck it” and let it roll.  Let’s just say that the call went well and I will be living at work between now and the Board meeting.  Send caffeine.  And maybe some sailors. 
After the call, I tried to sleep, but THE SUN was OUT, so I hoofed it down to Greenlake for a walk around the lake.  I lost my iPod to my EE (Evil Ex) but still have my fake mpg thingey.  It was gorgeous!  And everyone was as winterlogged as me (except for the 4 year old girl in a princess dress and razor scooter – I think that is taking the princess thing a little too far, man).

When I got home, I found I was sunburned.  Which is fucked up because I am from Hawaii and we are born with SPF 30.  Oh well, I cracked a new book and took it out on my hula hoop for an hour. 
(Boss, this means I won’t be at work for weeks due to my impending hip and knee rehabilitation). 

Welcome to Seattle, summer!  

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