Country Club Series 1/2: It’s the Most Aunt-Flo-der-ful, Country Club Series 2/2: Aunt Flo Strikes Back
Biggest. Party. Of. The. Year.
Two giant tents – filled with properly-placed napkins and gourmet picnic food on silver chafing dishes. A live pop cover band tests their equipment, which means you don’t have to bring your 9-iron today. Or plaid pants. Unless you really want to.
A country club 4th of July in the midwest. Could there be anything better?
Or longer? I will log in more than 14 hours at work today. No, I don’t get to eat the food, but I get to welcome some nice folks. It’s, like, one of my superpowers. After all, I’m the public face of our country club.
How could that happen? How did this goofy, casual, broken, divorcing, left-leaning questioning-her-sexuality woman get to this place? It’s called a worry drawer. When I get to work, I put myself in my worry drawer. Woke up crying? Tears pour in. Can’t stop thinking about the kids? There’s a file for that. My dad often said when I was young: “Shield’s up, Heidi. Time to go to work.”
Don’t worry, I have a breathing drawer to combat the worry drawer. Contents: meds, band-aids for high-heel blisters, chocolate (always), graham crackers, notes from friends so I remember I am loved, and some Gingerbread tea that I don’t like, but that someone gave to me for Christmas and I don’t want to waste it.
The Wrinkle
While I love welcoming, I don’t love: today is my bad period day. A day to bed-cocoon with brownies. But it’s all-hands-on-deck. And I only have one patriotic outfit: a blue blouse that hides my post-mom pooch and some skinny white jeans. So. Effing. Dangerous.
Anyway, I am thankful for the first welcome shift. Mostly because of some rumors running around that our boss got so drunk last year that he jumped in the pool naked. And I don’t want to see if that movie has a sequel.
The welcome desk reminds me of a red carpet: members saunter in with their newly-of-age children who look like they have a Dawson’s Creek soft filter on. Seriously, it’s the closest thing this Southsider has seen to royalty in this here corn country. I felt I was witnessing a new civilization; like a caveman crawling into Buckingham Palace.
What I do love about today: My period gives me an iron-clad excuse to go to the bathroom. Which really means I can soothe my feet on the ceramic floor. And it’s sooo deliciously quiet in that dimly-lit sanctuary.
My 14-hour mark hits around dusk: I’m all done. I can tell Aunt Flo is about to leave, too. Thank God.
A question floats in my head: why not stay for the fireworks? You deserve it.
I do? Yea. I do!!
I look up: a co-worker flags me over from on the far side of the green. A bunch of other co-workers gathered around: a cooler. She offers me a beer. The next 20? 40? minutes were a dream. I unpacked some of me out of the drawer. I stay for the beginning fireworks and head back to the office for my purse.
I took a few steps. Oh shit. Something isn’t right.
Read on to the red-cheeked conclusion!
POEM: Not yet
On a grittier note, the poem this week outlines the Me who was kept hidden in my worry drawer that divorced, reconciling year, before I made friends with humility and grace. Inspired by the Brandi Carslile song, That Year.
I have been listening for hours today. A song, sad. Me, numb, crouched, buckled from the pain of my current life. This song, coupled with my usual exhaustion, releasing cascades of tears from within, about forgiving a best friend who committed suicide many years ago. I finally pause my waterfall. Before it begins again, redoubling, as I write, trying to forgive myself for being asleep these many years. And, hoping, someday, I will say I’m my friend, again.
The SoulJourner QUESTion
That year, I was kinda like a swirly egg that came out brown most of the time because all my colors got mixed up. It just seemed safer to stay hidden in my drawer. Most of my brave energy was spent on the divorce. In retrospect, it was doubly-exhausting.
SERIOUS: Have you ever felt it was safe to just hang back and not be “yourself” too much? What do you think the pros and cons of that choice were?
FUN: Name a mentor you have in life and how they have inspired you to feel good with being more You!
