Strung Out and Stranded

I make the most of Saturday.

I clean. I cut branches. I get my chainsaw serviced. I go to the bank. The dry cleaners. The tailor. The liquor store.

I also do some more Christmas shopping. I am nearly done. Let's keep going!

That evening, as my cold starts to get the better of me, I walk to CVS to get some nasal spray and cold medicine. I need to get rid of this nastiness, and quick. I am headed out with The Girls on Sunday night.

Later that night, after a short nap, I decide to put on a Christmas movie and wrap all the gifts I have purchased. I'll start with the gifts for my office, since they take some assembling.

And as I sit on the floor at the far end of my living room to wrap the 8 gifts for my direct reports plus one for the assistant I share, I am lonely.

Two years ago, when Scott and I were first together, I remember doing this exact same thing. In the exact same spot. And I'd poured a glass of wine and put on a movie then, too. And as I cut paper and folded and taped and tied ribbon and curled each one beautifully (while Trinket nearly strangled herself with a roll of blue curling ribbon with dreidels on it) Scott and I had texted all night long. Nice, beautiful, lovely sentiments. Texts about what we'd felt in high school, and feelings that had never completely gone away. Texts that said we cared and we'd be there for each other. Texts that said not to forget how wonderful we are.

And here I am this year, alone wrapping the damn gifts.

I was longing for a nice text from one of my fun, attentive, kind friends. I felt a little alone with out them.

But it is a holiday weekend. People are with their families. This happens. Again, this is not the world's biggest tragedy. No one is sitting at their family dinner table thinking, "Oh. We should have thought to invite Liza. It is her first Thanksgiving without Scott."  Come one.

But out of the blue, Christopher sends me a message.

I had messaged him - and a couple others - the day before, letting them know how much I appreciated their completely unexpected kindness and that my faith in people was restored. 

He messaged me telling me he was really just a dork, and that life is too short not to reach out and help a friend.

I messaged that I am just a dork too, then, and thank you.

And he wrote, "Are you kidding???? You were always too cool for school!"

Really? Is that the way he sees me?  That's not the way I saw me.

I've mentioned on Facebook that I have a heinous cold. He comments to me in a message that he's sorry I am feeling yucky. 

I ask about "getting the band together" and he says he's working on it, but there are a lot of crazy schedules to deal with out there. But he'll keep plugging away.

We laugh about a couple of other topics before we sign off.

I am nearly done my gift wrapping. Trinket has eaten several inches of curling ribbon. I am drowsy on Alka-Seltzer Cold and Flu. And am feeling less lonely by the minute.