My day is just winding down. TrainerGuy kept me doing handstands (literally) this morning (seriously, the threat of smashing your face on the gym floor is GREAT incentive to not fall while doing wall walks); my job had me coding Neurosurgery this evening. Toss in some dishes, grocery shopping, laundry, and dog wrangling, and basically, that's the last 16 hours in a nutshell.
I'm ready for being "done" for the day, that's for sure.
But I have one last thing left to do.
I had hoped that My Sailor might be home around 1am this morning, but, no dice.
So I'm taking the time to write a letter to take with him in his sea bag next time he goes out 'Finding Nemo'. I stock pile these things. Stationary, photos, and note cards - writing them whenever I can, so that he doesn't have to go a day without word from me, despite the silence of the sea between us. These one-way conversations become more and more challenging as time passes sometimes, but it's better than the alternative. Which is basically nothing aside from the rare email. Even if all it says is, "I love you. I miss you. I can't wait to see you," it's something. I'm doing my best to throw in the occasional poetry slam or short story, or random photo or piece of artwork to try to keep it lively.
That said, we were looking forward to the possibility of having a weekend off together. (Well, I'd have to work a few hours, but most of the weekend we'd have off together.) We were thinking about heading into Seattle for some lunch and a trip to our favorite museum, the EMP. Or maybe catch one of the final shows of Ama Luna while it's in town this weekend, if we could get a good deal on last minute tickets.My Sailor has never seen a Cirque show and I've never seen this one, so it could have been awesome.
Could have been, being the operative words.
Alas, any ideas of a weekend alone together have been canceled. He'll be working. And the 4pm-8amish we've become accustomed to, but some similarly long form or day shift.
Before we celebrate the change to day time hours, there is very little time to make that kind of a transition, so I anticipate we'll spend the remainder of the time coping with his exhaustion. This isn't a complaint (I know, it sure sounds like one). It's just a fact of life for us right now.
As the cliche goes: "It is what it is."
I can look forward to a weekend of running my C25K program, doing laundry, dog wrangling, cooking, dishes, and probably mowing the lawn (if the weather holds out long enough) instead.
You know, in previous relationships, I'd been accused of being inflexible. True, I can be immovably stubborn when I do choose to put my foot down, or when I'm passionate about something. And, in all fairness, I have a wide variety of things I'm passionate about, though I rarely put my foot down without good reason...but I digress.
Anyway, I'm not sure if I've grown (probable) since that accusation was made, but these schedule changes don't phase me nearly as much as they would have 10 or so years ago. It would have driven me inexplicably nuts. But now? When I get a phone call saying our weekend date is canceled, my reaction is, "Whew! Sure glad we didn't spend money on tickets yet!"
I have lots of examples of my crazy flexibility - from the fact that I can reach 4 inches past my toes on a tight day, to both thumbs comfortably settling behind the knuckles of my index fingers, to touching my tongue to the tip of my nose (see photographic evidence above). As cool as all of those are (especially when I was in elementary school), they aren't terribly useful today.
The flexibility that is most vital to my happiness has been to identify what I control and what I can't, and decide what to get worked up about, and what not to. More commonly known as "rolling with the punches."
Right now, he can't control his schedule. That is what it is. He can't control his level of exhaustion. That's all natural.
I can control how I react to it. I can either focus on what we can't do, or what we/I can. While I don't consider myself a homebody type by any means, I do LOVE our house - especially when it's spic n' span. I can kill time attacking those spots in the house that have been needing attention. I can log a few extra hours at work and get some more dough behind me for the traveling I anticipate over the coming months. I can work on my fitness, which will help me feel better about everything. See? There are lots of "I cans". That way I'll be available for when he's back on his feet during the days.
There will be other shows to see, other days to go to lunch and a museum (or two) in the city. But there is only one now. I can either spend it wallowing in disappointment and frustrated with the things I can't influence (thereby making an already hard situation even harder on My Sailor and us), or I can put some of that obscene flexibility to the test, and make life easier for both of us.
Obscene flexibility it is!
Maybe this is all my way of biting my thumb at those things that I can't control...
Or maybe I actually am too stubborn... too stubborn to allow an outside force to mess with this bliss.