Kind of a low-key, uneventful for blog fodder day.
I ran into another training tribe member this morning I have not seen in a few months. This was a rare Sunday gym visit for me, because I missed on Wednesday and am still relatively obsessive about my 6 days gym time schedule. But it was good to see her, catch up on all her milestones and continuing good health efforts. I so love that. I love seeing others make their own incremental forward progress and know that I’m not so isolated in my own nemesis stable of exercises. Sunday mornings can also be busy! I had no idea.
M and I went out for lunch today. Nearly every weekend we eat a meal out, typically Saturday dinner, but that didn’t work yesterday so it was lunch today. Nothing fancy – Islands for a burger for him, a chicken caesar salad for me. Food was good, service was crap. Our order was taken, drinks (tea for M, water for me) was delivered, food came promptly … and we did not see our server or any other for the rest of the meal. I finished my water, M his tea, and I really would have enjoyed my meal more with more water, M with more tea. And then she finally comes by to take our plates and ask if we’d like dessert (ummm … no thank you), no questions about refills, another 15 minutes waiting for our check, and then another 10 minutes after that to get my credit card back and he the receipt to sign.
It’s rare for us to eat out and tip less than 20%. I waited tables right after high school and in my first year of college and know how difficult the job can be. Plus we are in general pretty generous souls. So for me to leave less than usual tip means I am genuinely annoyed by and unhappy with the service received. Yet here I am, feeling guilty about a measly 10% tip. For lousy service. What other people do is none of my business; what we typically do is the source of my mildly guilty conscience. Perhaps she will learn something from it. Perhaps she just figures we’re some cheap-ass middle aged couple. Perhaps she was overwhelmed and unable to do more for us. In the bigger picture of my life and times, probably our paths are unlikely to cross again and even if they did, how likely is it she would remember us? Probably we were completely forgotten within minutes of walking out of the restaurant.
Small comfort. But not enough to have me driving back and leaving a better tip. Yes, I have done that in the past, when I felt like I stiffed our service for some random, truly unintentional reason.
From there it was off to Costco. On a Sunday. What were we thinking? M was in search of a specific supplement that he was sure we purchased there as well as a can of mixed nuts that have been gnawing at him, so we dived into the fray that is Costco on a weekend. Any weekend. It was unpleasant. Everyone around us seemed to be suddenly stopping in the middle of aisles as if they were alone in the store rather than shopping cart to shopping cart with everyone else. If that was not stressful enough, the number of children running amok without supervision or attention, falling down, screaming, crying, nearly getting run over by people not expecting to have some 5-year-old dart suddenly dart out in front of her cart. While I am someone who generally likes and enjoys children, I kind of hate their parents. While we did not find the supplement he was seeking we did come home with fresh berries, enough ingredients for salads and fresh vegetables for the week, and my favored protein/nut bar substitutes for candy bars. Crazy town. At least we do not have to return for at least another week, 10 days, and I am already swearing to myself it will be after work during the week or on my work-from-home day.
The new week ahead is looking and feeling better. Mostly. The Wedding is like the theme song from Jaws playing in the background of my mind. I keep imagining all the things I could be missing, all the things that potentially can go wrong. My worst nightmares of people I barely know showing up at my house and leaving hungry because I ran out of food or totally mucked it up is a recurring bad dream most nights. Friends assure me everything is under control and it will be fine. I am not yet to the point of breathing into paperbags over it but it’s early yet; it could still happen, although I do hope my hyper-responsibility gene does not flare up to that degree.
This brief exchange with J confirming our training appointment tomorrow is the encapsulation of how I very, very briefly felt today:
And to which he replied:
So true! One of many things I treasure about trainer J, he gets me. Of course, I do not think I’m all that complicated to understand in the first place, being practically a single-celled organism on the interpersonal maintenance scale.
I am anticipating a great week ahead. Nothing on my work horizon that indicates stress or drama, and I have nothing – gloriously NOTHING – social on the calendar after work all week. Well, we are having dinner with C and A on Tuesday night, but family does not count as a social commitment.
A couple of MIA friends have resurfaced which always makes me happy. Those with kids at home always disappear for awhile in August in preparation for the transition to a new school year, so it’s always nice when they return and to hear the tales of day-to-day parenting. Most of my friends, at least when they are talking to me, are realistic about how it is, why it is they feel stressed and stretched thin. There is none of the drama that comes from “feel sorry for me! I’m depended upon to be super parent because no one else can handle the mantle …” that happens far too often for my realistic comfort.
I was reading on a budget forum about salads in a jar. Because I am a non-foodie and such things generally sound both trendy and complicated, I tend to be a late adopter or tester of new things. The salad in a jar thing, once I understood what it entails, sounds like it has real potential to work for me. It definitely sounds simpler than multiple containers of various salad pieces and parts I am hauling into the office on the days I choose salad for lunch. Only I have precisely zero mason jars or anything approaching appropriate jar size needed. On top of which – I have no idea where to buy such a thing in the first place, other than Amazon. Domestic or cooking diva I am most definitely not.
And while on Amazon, I also indulged a recent thought that has taken over in the back of my mind – an apple peeler/corer. Now, I have never in my entire life made an apple pie from scratch and have very limited to no intentions toward trying my hand at pie making one in the future. I mean, Claim Jumper frozen dutch apple pies make M’s eyes cross and have him starting to drool just thinking about it for pie-worthy occasions, so I see no reason to try and do better when a perfectly fine product is available for the few times per year he so strongly desires an apple pie. But I am not immune to the call of apple cake and apple muffins. Anymore I prefer to make my own baked goods because then I control the ingredients and know how much sugar and fat and other stuff goes into it. I actually bought blueberries today because I am in the mood to make some muffins. That’s on my list for Wednesday night to take to the office on Thursday, assuming they turn out well.
Shopping until I about drop over here. But all good, stuff I have thought about to the point of considering it a specific purpose indulgence. I have high hopes for the salad in the jar thing.
And that’s my Sunday recap. As you can clearly read, nothing exciting going on over here today, and I believe both M and I prefer it this way.
Have a great week everyone!