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And Just Like That-2020 is Gone. And Just Like This-2021 Is the Now!

Ahhh. Where do I begin?

I’ll start with two minutes prior to my sitting down at my laptop and welcoming 2021!

The start of a new year!  It’s very much welcomed!

This morning, at the start of this New Year, I woke up at 7:30 after going down for the count at approximately 10:00 PM last night. There was no fanfare to welcome in the New Year.  No midnight Champagne. No banging of the pots and pans.  In fact, my pots and pans were resting from being constantly heated and assisting in the Holiday cooking and the comfort cooking to expand my body.

My goal was to watch Anderson and Andy. However, my husband had other aspirations of watching his Netflix mystery series so he fed me wine. I fell fast asleep.

It is a well-known fact that wine puts me to sleep. Therefore, when my husband wants to watch his TV shows, he offers me wine. And I don’t refuse.

And so, I woke up rather well-rested on this January 1st after 9 ½ hours of slumber and was ready for my coffee.  With no goals set aside for this New Year, I decided to face reality instead.  This came to fruition while in the bathroom to do what was surely needed other than to empty my bodily wastes.  I got on the scale. I figured that after the huge amount of toxins that exited the orifices of my being, perhaps the numbers would be slightly lower.

The shock of my life.  It is with deep guilt, anxiety and stress that I can now announce to you and the rest of the world, that the 20 pounds I gained have risen to 30 pounds. I’m weighing in at 170 pounds. This didn’t happen magically. It simply happened because I did nothing but shove cookies, bread, butter and any stray bits of food, with exception to Chippy’s kibble, into my mouth.

 

And this is how we gain 30 pounds!  The Angel Gabriel didn’t magically make my gut, arms, chins and thighs bigger. FOOD did!

At that point, I decided to move my body and get some well-needed form of exercise by lifting the newly air-dried clothing that hung over my bathtub and taking them downstairs to iron them. After all, walking down three flights of stairs to iron and eventually up those stairs after doing so was exercise enough for the first of the year. I do believe taking baby steps will be more beneficial in the long run.

And while ironing I thought how easy it is to take that hot steam and iron out the wrinkles in clothing and table linens but at the same time how difficult it is to iron out the wrinkles in our lives.

’tis so much easier to iron out the wrinkles in clothing than in life–dontcha agree?

A spray bottle to make ironing easier wasn’t needed because the salty tears falling from my now chipmunk cheeks were making the cotton fabric nice and damp—so much better for ironing! And completely natural too!!!

Why bother to use a spray bottle to dampen the clothing when I can just cry onto them?  It’s really more organic anyway!

And upon smoothing out my shirts and napkins, I returned upstairs to strip myself of the filthy pajamas I wore. They were replaced with a clean pair of leggings since nothing else fits me’ and a gray Henley shirt which I immediately spilled grease on.  Yes. I’m multitasking. The chopped meat for Bonaparte’s weekend chili is cooking and in my adept gift for soiling my clothing, grease spilled on the shirt.

Once a hot mess-always a hot mess! Within moments of donning this shirt–I got grease stains on it!

Sigh. At least my underwear is clean…….for a while at least.

And with that, a step back in time will be taken.  I’ve been on a bit of a hiatus for the past month. Trust me, it wasn’t self-imposed. It’s just that life had a way of telling me to just stop and rest my mindless mind. This made sense because my body doesn’t move.  I may as well rest my spirit and brain.

My last blog post was written December 13, I wrote about our cancelled visit to Oona and Sam’s home for their first Christmas. I’ll take it from there….

It was upsetting enough to not visit Oona for Christmas. Jake, my oldest son had cancelled his visit and was staying put in L.A.  Thankfully, Roman would still be coming to visit so I wasn’t completely depressed. I was more agitated that due to the pandemic, I wouldn’t be able to see Oona in her last trimester. (Actually, that might be a good thing—for her, simply because I have an innate tendency to be annoying.)

And then it happened. My laptop just kind of died.  With the camera not performing correctly and the issues I was having with everything loading, it was too much.  So off we went to the Geek Squad only to find the battery exploded and there was mold on the inside of the computer.  Could it possibly be because I never even bother to clean this godforsaken piece of technology?  Hey. I’m only human. It’s a clean house and an organized cubicle at work. Everything else gets thrown to the curb.

We left the computer at Best Buy and got it back within a week, only to have the suggestion of bringing it back for a complete rehaul. After agreeing and quite willingly I might add, I left my laptop’s future in the hands of these computer geeks to perform a miracle.

Another week of a computerless existence.

The next morning, I got into my car to head to work.   Happily, nestled in the driver’s seat and enjoying New York Jazz Trio’s Christmas Album on Spotify, I started daydreaming of living back in Manhattan.   In my mind, I’m driving down Broadway admiring the Christmas decorations from the apartment buildings and shops.  And reality, once again, slaps me upside the head.

This little gem of an album turned out to be my favorite Christmas one of 2020!  I’m still listening to it!

I felt a kind-of rumbling coming from my back tire. It didn’t sound good. A passerby walking his dog yelled to me and pointed to my back tire. It was flat. In the timespan of less than two minutes, I left my driveway happily listening to Christmas music and received an early Christmas gift in the form of a busted tire due to the possibility of a stray nail that many neighbors’ tires had also received.

This was not what I was looking forward to–especially at the expense of the roofers who don’t clean up after themselves!

Back to the driveway, and having my husband chauffer me to the office, I was now cursing having a car as opposed to the NYC Subway system, spewing foul language about living in the Philly suburbs and going off the deep end because the goddam roofers in the neighborhood were not picking up nails after doing work on other homes.

Needless to say, the tire was fixed and it was a nail that was deeply imbedded into my tire.

Now we’re inching upon Christmas.  Still no computer but…my girlfriend MaryBeth messaged me that the book series she was reading mentioned my husband’s grandfather in the book “Rich People Problems” (which are problems I’ve never known and never will) the third of the Crazy Rich Asians trilogy.   What better time than then to order the three books on Amazon and treat myself to reading about the tribulations of rich people?

This was so cool–and I’m deeply shallow enough to have ordered all three books due to this paragraph!

Now, in the meantime, I got my laptop back. It was cleaned and rehauled and working but only after it took me an hour to figure out just how to get back on.  Yeah. I’m that person.

But I decided to procrastinate writing and rather, opted for reclining on the loveseat in our sunroom.  It was the weekend before Christmas and we would be traveling to New York to pick Roman up. I was on a hiatus from everything but work and Roman was about to embark on a two-week hiatus from work.

 

I read……

…and I read until Chippy joined me to let me know he needed to be fed!

We drove to the City to pick him up and I teared up at how beautiful NYC is in the winter. I know.  I know..as much as I adore the hot weather and not having to wear shoes, there’s something about winter I find comforting. It’s the same with the communal living of an old pre-war NYC apartment building.  But that’s another blog post—so I’ll continue with this.

While I realize living like this isn’t everyone’s cuppa tea, it makes me so comfortable and as though I’m nestled in a cocoon.  You have no idea how much I miss City life.  I cry when I look at this photo!

Back home, with my son and my husband, I was looking forward to just shy of a week off from work. I went into work on the Monday before Christmas with the remainder to stay home and cook and eat and bake and eat and eat and eat. And read. And relax. While preparing for Christmas, Roman and I took a drive around to put us in the spirit of the season. It worked.

Next to city living, I’m a sucker for big old homes like this.  There is character and a story to be told. Aren’t this homes just so Christmasy?

On Christmas Eve, after a delightful meal of just the three of us, I was looking forward to blogging. I figured that Christmas morning would be quite the good time to wake up early and write.  But that changed.  A rain and wind storm were Mother Nature’s Christmas gift and our internet service was out. As was our landline phone (Yes. We have an old-school phone—strange but true). As was our cable TV service.

The table was set in a different tone this year. I went with black and cream. It just seemed appropriate for 2020!

You know what? It wasn’t that bad.  We opened up a few gifts and enjoyed the remainder of the day.

I got a robe. And slippers. Give me another week and this robe will be food-stained!

I also received some great skincare and cleansing products. I think it was a hint to perhaps take a bath.

The meal was great.  It was wonderful to have one of my kids at home.  And eventually, Verizon sent a repair guy to come and make thing right. In fact, he arrived Sunday morning just hours before we drove Roman back to New York.  The damage was, in fact, due to the storm and now everything is back to normal.

 

As I write the ending to this blog post, I’m happy that 2020 is behind us.  Who knew what last year was to bring?   I’ll admit.  I did a lot of crying this morning.

Pretty much sums up my feelings about 2020!  Oona sent this to me because she knows me so well!

I cried because I gained 30 pounds. But I’ll lose those pounds and have begun a plan to do so. I won’t do Weight Watchers. I won’t do Noom.  I’ll just do Willpower. It won’t be easy. In fact, it’ll be very difficult. Food is my comfort. Food is my happy medication. Food is my stress-reliever.  And I have to stop that behavior. And garnering up all my inner strength, I’ll do it. It will take time but I’ll do it.

There’s a lot more of me to love–or despise depending on how you feel about me.  Oh My Gut!  

I cried because I miss the kind of job I used to have before I had children. I was an executive secretary on Wall Street. I worked for a company that took care of me and I was loyal AF.  After years of being a stay-at-home mom and re-entering the workforce at 50 plus years old, I realized what true ageism is. And it hasn’t stopped. I’ve never had another job to equal my beloved job at Morgan Guaranty.  The company I’m with now, only cares about profit and not me. It’s a sad truth. But—in this time of difficulty, I’m fortunate to have a job. I’m fortunate to work for two great women. I’m fortunate to have medical insurance.  And I have to stop that behavior of looking back at a time when companies took care of their employees and corporate loyalty.  I can look forward to five o’clock when I can come home and concentrate on writing!  I need to move ahead!

This is where I worked. The building on the left–across from the NYSE.  And my salary was higher back then then it is now. I had free lunch.  Working after 5PM? A car service drove me back uptown.  Those days are over and I need to move forward!

I cried because the aging process has left me with a sagging body and with more wrinkles than I could have imagined.  I cried because I miss that luxurious head of hair I used to have.  I cried because the woman in the mirror looks elderly now.  I don’t know the exact moment when it happened. When did I lose my youth?  I can’t be that old—or can I?   But I’ll deal with it.  I’ll continue to enjoy my time every morning when I transform my aging face with its spots, uneven coloring and lines, scars and wrinkles into a better version of myself.

The pity party ended.

I picked myself up, dusted myself off, and realized what I’m going through is normal.  2020 was a year we all want to forget.  Many of us gained weight. Many (oh I’m jealous) actually lost weight.  We were worried and stressed and felt like we aged ten or twenty years.  Our social lives came to a halt. We couldn’t see loved ones.  (Sorry but Zoom and Facetime aren’t cutting it for me).  2020 was the year when we ceased going to a weekend movie. We couldn’t make plans to meet for a drink. We couldn’t call a friend and meet for dinner.

It does seem that way–doesn’t it?  Hopefully during this new year the world will reopen!

2020 brought serious polarization.  More hate. More viciousness. More rebellion. It made many of us rethink the kinds of people we do want to be with and those we don’t want anywhere near us when this virus ends.   The pandemic changed life as we know it. That was 2020.

Sorry Charlie but your behavior is NOTHING to be proud of. It’s vulgar and violent.

Perhaps 2021 will be better.  We have hope for this new year.  A vaccine could be just the thing we need. But more than that, we need to believe things will get better. We will be social once again. We will see our loved ones and hold them and hug them and enjoy them. We will be able to enjoy an afternoon at the movies again—and escape the hot weather with two hours of luxurious air-conditioning inside a theatre with surround sound while watching a story play out on a big screen.  We will be able to meet our friends at a bar or restaurant.

Let’s welcome 2021 as we would welcome our loved ones or friends.

I got rid of the grease stain!  Have a great New Year all!  

It’s nice to be back!

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