The Light at the End

It’s almost over.

I haven’t left my shop before 2am in two weeks.

I haven’t gone to bed before 3am on most of those days.

I’ve been subsisting on Panera charged lemonade, chocolate chips and broken Oreos.

But…it’s almost over.

Truth be told, I rather enjoy the pace. It takes me back to the mid-90’s when I opened two restaurants (not my own, mind you but I was part of the staff during the launch phase). Frenzied, hectic, almost manic. It was also frustrating. maddening and anxiety-ridden. Yesterday, I almost broke down and cried. I had a good reason, but still. Even with all that, it was a wonderful time in my life. I learned a lot about human nature, resilience and patience. It’s where I honed my work ethic, my appreciation for efficiency, and more importantly, the realization that if you want something done RIGHT, you’d better do it yourself.

But…it’s almost over. Just a few more days and the tornado of Christmas is behind me and I can finally rest.

I’ll admit that I was ill-prepared for this season. Let me clarify that- I was prepared for what was originally coming down the pipeline. Then, in early December Hubby talked his company into purchasing a few thousand bonbons for clients and everything went helter-skelter. I’m a small shop. 3,000 extra bonbons is a MAJOR undertaking, especially when I still have to accommodate walk-in customers and clients who already placed orders in November. But it’s also a lot of much-needed income, so who am I to say no?

Anyhoo, we pulled it off (barely) and can rest easy now that the last of the shipments are out the door.

And speaking of shipments…One of the projects we planned was a marketing initiative to send a small ‘thank you’ to our frequent customers in the form of a candy bar. The point of sale system I have saves addresses for our mail-order and credit card clients, so my marketing whiz was able to cull a list and print labels. The bars went out and next thing I know, I have a text from THAT GUY thanking me for the candy bar.

Que¿

It seems that he was in the system because sent I’ve him various treats over the years, and more recently returned his favorite sweatshirt via US mail using the shipping software at the shop.

Well, ain’t that a kick in the knickers.

I wasn’t upset though. Honestly, I was pleased to hear from him. Surprised, but pleased (and I was surprised that I was pleased). His text was succinct- “Thank you for the candy bar. It was very thoughtful.”

I explained how he came to receive it and added that though it was an error, I was glad it went to someone who would appreciate it, he replied “Ok. Thanks again.” I said I hoped he was doing well, he wished me the same and that was it. It didn’t really seem as if he wanted to continue the conversation, so I let it drop.

Looking back on what I wrote above (it’s now December 27th as I continue this), I realize why I was pleased to hear from him. It’s because I truly do miss THAT GUY. But what I miss isn’t what I thought I would. I miss having someone to talk to at the end of my work day. I used to call him on my way home and we’d have idle chit chat about our respective days…banal to be sure, but it was comforting. When I get home to Hubby, he’s usually parked in front of the TV, absorbed in whatever he’s watching and can barely be bothered acknowledge my presence. Granted, he’s usually been on the phone all day talking to clients and coworkers- people he’s obligated to speak to and I guess he’s ‘all talked out’. I think I enjoyed talking to THAT GUY because I didn’t HAVE to talk to him. I wasn’t obligated to- he wasn’t an employee or a customer, or my child or my husband. I had a choice.

And sure, I have a choice of whether to speak to Renee or Maria or Kristen or Jim or any number of other friends I could call on. I’m certainly not lacking for friends, whether male or female. So why THAT GUY? The answer is, ‘I don’t know’. DOC and I couldn’t really pinpoint it. THAT GUY and I hadn’t really had a flirtatious friendship in some time. We rarely agreed on much and are on opposite sides of the political spectrum. We have little in common once our clothes are on, so what on earth was there to talk about once we exhausted discussion about how his family is doing, especially considering he never asked about mine?

Again, the answer is, ‘I don’t know’.

What I DO know is that we somehow found a way to pass the time. We always managed to find something to talk about, though at present, I’m hard-pressed to recall anything of real relevance. Regardless, the point is that I miss him.

Am I going to do anything about it?

Once again, the answer is, ‘I don’t know’.

Luckily it’s technically still the holiday season and I’m sure THAT GIRL is still around so I have an excuse to keep my distance. I’m sure that by the time it’ll be ‘safe’ to contact him, the urge will have passed.

It’s still very hard to imagine that I’ll never see him again. It literally makes me catch my breath every time the realization hits me. I also feel an overwhelming panic and sadness when I think that I may never have sex again. DOC tells me that I’m being ridiculous (ok, it would be incredibly unprofessional for him to say that but I know it’s what he’s thinking). Whether I have sex again is entirely up to me and I know that. It might be time for me to think about finding someone new…someone to talk to on my way home.

I guess I have to start somewhere.