I was supposed to have guests right now. Erica and I were supposed to be hosting a mystery quilt day. The early preparations went well: we picked a pattern; I did a test block; we spent an afternoon pulling fabrics from our stashes and cutting the pieces; we decided on a menu. Early this week, our good karma seemed to be faltering just a little, as first one person and then another had to drop out due to illness, but the women who were going to be able to come were still excited about it. I was falling a little behind with getting ready, as I had to drive to Cleveland Wednesday night for work, then chose to stop Thursday evening on the way home to spend some time with a friend I don’t get to see very much instead of rushing back to shop and clean. I’d just have to be focused and efficient on Friday night.
About 4:30 yesterday, Erica called me at work. She was crying and said she wasn’t going to be able to make it. Between sobs, she told me her dad was in intensive care, not breathing on his own, and she was headed to Indiana to be with him. Man, and I thought I’d been having a bad day. Yeah, I had too much to do at work and home and too many pounds on my body and on and on, but whining about that stuff seemed really, really petty after talking to Erica. We agreed to cancel the quilt day and try to reschedule later. I could have hosted by myself, but it was Erica’s party, too, and it didn’t feel right to me to go ahead without her.
So I called people to tell them about the change in plans and then instead of cleaning and shopping, I stayed a little late at work (since Mr. Karen wasn’t at home waiting for me) and then came home to work on my own quilt project. Today I’ve been doing normal solo Saturday stuff: laundry and listening to NPR, filing, sewing. Not the fun and festive day I’d been looking forward to, but that evidently wasn’t meant to be. In a little while, I’ll workout, hoping that will lift my mood on this cold and grey day.
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