Another Toastmasters Board meeting this morning, and I got a huge vote of confidence. Somehow, I knew that I’d be challenged as incoming president. It’s mostly my own fault— I’m secretary, right now, and I sent the minutes to the members, not just to the Board. I meant to do that— some people don’t read them, but some people do, and it’s a way to get people thinking about what it takes to run the club, and the fact that they have a voice. I got approached last week at the potluck and asked by a non-Board member whether I was going to be the president, and a woman mentioned she wanted to join the Board and casually said she wasn’t sure what position— maybe president.
I find myself in an interesting position. A month or so ago, a woman joined our choir. She was someone I’d seen at church several times, and I perceived her to be not glad to see me— things like refusing to hold hands with me (but holding hands with her husband and kids) when our community typically holds hands to pray, not quite having time to shake my hand at the sign of peace, and edging away from me in the pew, if we ended up in the same pew.
In my day job, one of the things I do is convert video-recordings of presentations given at my organization’s live events and turn them into OnDemand products.
So how’d it go?
It turns out that all my uncomfortable conversations are going to find me this week. Grey Area Guy is back and I’m going to have to say what I need to say there, it turns out that the friend with the mid-week event where there was subtext is an occasional reader of the blog (hello, IRL friends! I’m glad you’re here and I’m sorry if I sometimes say things that make things awkward!) more conversations about family… all of it. Right now.
And Mom has started openly rebelling against the Arbonne thing. So many lessons, so little time. Fingers crossed that I find some grace to navigate these waters.
I had that unpleasant conversation with the BFF last night. It had been awhile since we talked and I kind of thought we’d start by catching up on life, but she’s like a dog with a bone and when I tried to talk to her, she started right up with “so I’ve got to get this scheduled…” and I said “I’m sorry, but at the end of the day, I’m not comfortable committing to a trip that long, this far out.” She argued with me: “but you’re never really going to know what her health situation is…” and I agreed with her. It’s possible that Mom’s health will decline more slowly than I think. It’s possible that I’m cutting myself off from fun things I can do now. But I’d rather not commit to things that have me out of town or out of the country for that long while I’m her primary support. Italy was different, for me, partially because I could see that this time was coming, and partially because it was a trip that I had felt really strongly about for 11 years. I offered to visit her, instead. I made clear that this isn’t about not wanting to see her or spend time with her, but I’m not willing to plan to be away for more than a week at a time, at this point. I’ve also said that I’m floating the idea that other people who love my mother could spend more time with her, and that might free me up to make a plan like this, but so far, that’s just a bright idea on my part— nobody’s offering to step in and time a visit so that I can bug out for a bit. Continue reading
I don’t know if I chose it or it chose me, but suddenly I have a social life.