Sigh

I finally let go of a great deal of stress.  Finally.  It only took a good fall, an emotional breakdown (which occurred the week after I hit the pavement), and a rescue by my best friend, who whisked me away to Palm Springs for an overnight stay.  "You're not getting out of this," she said. "We are going.  The room is booked. And before you can say anything about money, I used miles. So there."

Do you see why I love this woman?

Los Angeles, or at least her beach cities, has been shockingly cool.  Not as in "über hip", but as in "bring a sweater".  The marine layer, rain, record-breaking lows -- this is more of what March holds than July or August.  The 120 degrees of "dry" heat and ample sunshine was a welcomed escape. Vitamin D, poolside booze and a good friend cures all.  After a two-year writing binge, I am very proud to report: tanlines.

It's the little things, people.

The irony in all of this is that, now that I've let go of all this stress, I'm so effing tired I can barely move.  Um, yeah, guess I was running on just a little adrenaline.  In the last week, have been sleeping like a hibernating bear.  On Thursday, I was in bed by 9.  NINE! That only happens when I am really, really, really, really sick.  Like with a fever.  This was simply sheer and utter exhaustion.

In spite of my excessive slumber, I'm still tired.  Less tired than I was.  Not exhausted all the time, but still tired.  And still yawning.  All. The. Time.  I've taken up regular afternoon latte runs, something I've eschewed for years.  I've lied to friends -- LIED! -- and passed up dates because I had "plans"...plans to eat dinner and go to sleep.  That's not very cool, I know.  I don't like to be dishonest.  But, what am I supposed to say?  "I know we haven't seen each other in ages, and I love you to bits, but I'd rather go to sleep than go out with you?"  Exactly. "Plans" sound much better.  White lies, people.  Every once it a while they make sense.

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"I don't want you to take this the wrong way," my bestie said to me last week, "but you seem like a different person. I mean that in a good way."

The funny thing about Aries stress (and, yes, I'm going to get all astrological on you), is that we think we are handling it very well.  And, for the most part, we do.  We are analytical about it:  Here are the facts, these are the realities and this is how I'm going to deal with it/them/that. There isn't any denial. No facade.  We really can handle it.  For a long time.  Until something like a stubbed toe brings us to our knees, and leaves them bloody.

I've been handling my tense situation in a dandy manner, I'd like to think, for the last three years.  Three years is a long time to hold one's breath.  Waiting for a resolution.  A miracle.  My hard work and patience to pay off.  And, for an Aries to have any semblance of patience, well, that is worth something pretty grand.

I've lived in the lands of Almost, Soon, Close and Nearly There for a little too long now.  That's just the bitch of working toward a dream.  On the outside, it has to look pretty stupid.  On the inside, it can feel pathetic.  I'm always surprised, though, when a friend will say how brave they think it is. They usually say this over a cocktail they insist on paying for.

Have I mentioned lately how much I love my friends?

I would tell you more about the situation -- something I did promise at the beginning of the year.  I am a woman of my word.  I will, I swear, tell you the ins and outs of what has been going on -- no "plans" will get in the way of that, promise.  But, another aspect of an Aries (or, maybe just me), is that we don't like to talk about it too much.  We don't want to jinx it.  And I am close.  We are close.  And, soon, we will know more.  In the interim, I sleep.  And sigh.  And smile.

For the first time in a long time, I am happy.  Not that I was unhappy before.  No.  It's just with that layer of stress removed, I'm freer to feel.  It's easier to laugh, and not just at the irony abounding.  It's easier just to be.  The facts and the realities remain.  There is a clock, and it ticks.  Time moves really quickly, and there's plenty to fret about.  I'm just not going to for now.  I'm simply going to enjoy what's left of this winter-like summer before my tanlines fade away.