The Midlife

I love Sundays, especially when I’m not working and am off with my husband and daughter. Correction: I love Sundays until about 4:30 pm. No matter what I’m doing, whether I am enjoying a full day of lounging or power cleaning or fill in the blanking, 4:30 pm brings my doomsday thinking. Oh, no. It’s time to go back to work tomorrow. Just another Mundane Monday. I kid a little bit because I really do enjoy my job and the mandatory routine of getting out to go somewhere. But the Ugh feeling stems from another week of having to actually leave my lovely condo cocoon where stretchy pants are the ultimate costume. And by stretchy pants, I’m really talking about pajamas that look like athleisure-wear. But they are undoubtedly pajamas.

I love the ritual of getting up, making coffee, and getting ready for work. I like listening to The Today Show and packing my daughter’s school snacks. I basically need that or I would revel in the complete opposite of that constantly. I would never leave my home. I loved Little House on the Prairie growing up. I’d love to walk into town to pick up some feed for Pa. I could be that kind of recluse. Not because I don’t enjoy people, because I do. I just don’t enjoy the irritating ones you will most likely encounter the longer the amount of time you spend amongst other humans.

Now, before you misjudge me as some sort of above-it-all snob, please note: I’m not everyone’s brand of nut. 47 years on this Earth, I’ve come to that realization. I know I probably irritate people in large doses. That is probably why I enjoy mostly a life of solitude. I don’t visit with people often enough these days because of the whole Covid thing, but even if there was no Covid, my life of the party days are mostly behind me and my sweatpants. I’m OK with it.

Which leads me to something I continually find irritating. I think I may have mentioned it here before, but I am finding it particularly hard to stomach when people don’t say Hi back to me. I know that may seem incredibly small in terms of life’s grievances. And perhaps calling it a grievance is not accurate. It’s more like the irritation I feel when I get a robo-call reminding me about my car’s extended warranty. I just don’t like it.

I work with some amazing people. But on more than one occasion, I’ve said Hi to a couple of them in particular, with no returned Hi response. Now, I’m going to give them the benefit of the doubt; sometimes my voice is quiet. And probably even more so with a mask. But I can’t help to notice a pattern with these two individuals. I just realized as I typed this that they probably don’t like me. OK, I get it now. I thought about maybe just saying Hi in a much louder voice, but then that might seem weirder than just walking away from the rejection. What do you think?

The rejection is endurable, because ultimately it builds great character, and there is no way I would be able to work from home on a full-time basis. I’d be too bored and husky eventually. So endure the Sunday Blues, I must. Today, I will make a conscious effort when 4:31 pm hits; I’ll smile. Pull on my big-girl sweatpants and get ready. C’mon new week, I’ve got this. And you do, too. Have a great week!