Monthly Archives: August 2015

The Zen Zone

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Do you ever get irrationally flaming pissed and call your friend that you know will agree with you anyway? You know, the one who is all like… oh no that heifer did NOT wear pink today, you OWN that color! I love that friend but sadly, I’m not as good at being that friend. I mean, I totally can but if you don’t warn me that you need that, I will go all how-do-we-fix-this friend instead.

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I was meant to be a healer and consoler and shoulder to cry on because of what we will call The Zen Zone. The Zone is what happens to me in an emergency/high stress/adrenaline situation. My husband calls me out on it because it makes him laugh. When we totaled our car, it came out. He was in a panic and I was even calmer than usual. When a friend or one of the teenagers calls me crying hysterically, it comes out. When our wedding season came and everyone thought I would be freaking out, I just moved in and stayed a month in The Zone. It’s lovely there.

The physical pieces are easier to spot. My voice lowers and quiets. I use “uh-huh” and “okay…” in a soothing way almost like I’m trying to coax a baby to sleep. I ask a lot of questions that I know the answer to like “do you think he is just scared” or “you think maybe you should breathe a minute”. The mental pieces are not as obvious but are there. I clear my mind, focus on one small thing, give the best level-headed advice I can and try to be super supportive. I can make split-second decisions like a boss. It’s what I do.

But sometimes people don’t warn me that they don’t want The Zone and I piss them off. I get called a bad friend, yelled at, unfriended, you know… all the fun stuff that happens when you tell someone the truth instead of agreeing that girl is obviously fatter. I should have two phone numbers and you call the friend you want. For irrational, supportive friend press 1 and to get Zen Zoned press 2.

Why did I tell you guys this? Because I got hung up on for telling a friend between their sobs that they weren’t going to actually run over someone with their car. Apparently they pressed 2 when they really meant 1 and it was too late to change my answer once I heard the click on the other end of the line. Oops.

Weekends Rule

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I really, really, REALLY love weekends. I could keep myself quite busy if I didn’t have a job. Some of my friends say they actually enjoy work. What? You would rather go to work than do something else? I don’t understand that logic at all. I work so they give me money, don’t you?

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This weekend while our tiny spawns are out of town we are going to live it up! Tonight we are going to pick up Agent K’s 7th grade schedule (what?!) and then go to a fancy dinner at a little place I like to call Taco Bueno. Then we are going home to do laundry and prep our house for the arrival of the girl teenager tomorrow. I MISS HER ADORABLE FACE SO MUCH!! Sorry, I’m missing my teenagers. Anyway, after Husbando and I go to Wingapalooza (yes, its a real and very magical thing) tomorrow she will be moving in for a couple nights of fun! Pitch Perfect 2, pizza, YouTube videos, sleeping, and ice cream are all in the plans. Sunday is for being lazy and maybe some shopping or swimming.

See how busy I could stay? I’m not even getting into scrapbooking, cleaning out closets, helping kids with homework, crafting, home improvements, working in the yard, etc. I could be a Pinterest Professional if I didn’t have to make money! Y’all would get better Christmas gifts so it would be win-win if anyone wants to pitch in to let me have a weekend every day! Really, I’m just excited about this weekend after a hard week and I’m excited to see my teenager. I need to win the lottery :/