Wednesday, December 7, 2011

2 + 2 = 5

2 + 2 = 5? IS it? Sometimes the simple answer is right in front of us. Most people simply miss it by thinking too much.  Even the smartest person can actually miss the point. Have you missed the simple answer by over-thinking? Do you think too much?  Thinking. Thinking all the time. Thinking so much that it isn't fun. It should always be fun. For moi, less thinking more action. What say you? enjoy. kisses. m.


What am I thinking? Too many things all at once. All the time. Things that aren’t necessary and most likely will never be said. It is insanity, but I will do this tomorrow and the next day and next. The woman standing next to you or me on the train, the bus, or at the store will be doing the same. Internalizing and overanalyzing. Perhaps there’s a husband, boyfriend or child that she can not stop redirecting her thoughts toward. Or something at work that requires more thought than is necessary. There are too many things that it could be and not enough things to stop it.

How short should my dress be? Where are my keys? Will I have enough time to change my eye shadow to match the other shade of lipstick I decided to wear? Good morning darling. He’s already to go. Tells me that his lunch hour has changed and that he has to leave earlier. Why didn’t he tell me about taking an earlier lunch yesterday? We could have had lunch together. But that’s not what he wanted. Probably didn’t tell me because there is something to hide. He hates this dress. I can tell. Never tells me anything. Especially not the truth. 

I’m thinking too much and now I’ll be late because I think it’s me that really hates this dress because it is far too long. I don’t care why he changed lunch but I will probably pick a fight about it at the wrong time. He reminds me that I’m running late and smiles before handing me a cup of coffee and keys. It’s time for him to leave. Kisses me on the cheek and gives me a once over. He hates this dress but won’t say it. There he goes out the door. I need to change. Oh what to wear. The door swings back and his head ducks in. Tells me that he forgot to say how great my dress is. Liar. Why is he such a liar lately? I can ‘t stand this. We need to talk. I walk over and kiss his forehead then remind him to have a nice day. I’m late now. Only enough time to grab my keys and leave.

On the train with my portfolio, wandering through my notes when I realize that I forgot the plans for the fabulous master bedroom with the amazing view. Its then I think who really needs to see an amazing view on paper. When I think there ought to be photos depicting the before they bulldozed a hole in the yard to open up the view a woman sits next to me reading a magazine. Not an ordinary magazine but the kind that only shows the worst of the worst events spread across the page. I wonder why she would choose to read such things instead of a romance or normal newspaper before thinking that she’s one of those people that enjoys other people’s bad news. She smiling and laughing under her breath at the caption on the front about a man leaving his wife for another with money. I’m thinking silently instead of out loud when she makes eye contact with my stare as the train slows. Instead of thinking I smile and pretend that this is my stop and get up and move to another car.

It’s 11:35 when he calls me and tells me we’re having lunch. I wonder what made him change his mind like this and agree like it’s something I want to do rather than disagree because I haven’t had enough time to decide otherwise. Then I think about how people say yes to things without thinking them through. Someone has you pinned in a corner by or on the phone or messenger, at any rate when you’re dead-lined into a response all you will do is say yes. Besides you can always say no later. Can’t you?

Anyhow, I think about twenty more of the worst things while I’m listening to him talk about his morning and tell me how great I looked in this dress before hanging up. Then I stop to question whether he’s right about this dress. It’s always been in the closet. Maybe it isn’t so bad? Or was he just deflecting because he’s has something to hide. It doesn’t matter because I’m late for a quick chat with Simon the VP while my 18-year old temp secretary is waging emotional warfare on the mail boy because he broke up with her for the copy girl, who isn’t so shy.  

During lunch we make the same kind of small talk that normally occurs at home during meals. I keep listening to his stories about work and multi-tasking my thoughts about other things. The sneaking suspicion that he was hiding something never leaves my mind. I can’t shake that thought of him doing something without my knowing although I did get a pedicure without sharing but that’s not the same because he doesn’t get lunchtime pedicures. I smile at his story about work involving something inappropriately timed and ending up perfect instead of picking the fight that’s on my brain I give my thoughts a rest. After lunch he walks me back to the office, says goodbye with a kiss then tells me how great I look and hops into cab before disappearing back into the rest of the afternoon.

Between the hours of 3 and 5 I repeatedly try to reach his phone between meetings. I can’t and my rested thoughts start to turn once again. His work says he’s out and can’t be reached. After a period of slow and noisy I let my secretary go for the rest of the day cause I’m thinking that she can sleep off her emotional vendetta with few cocktails and her girlfriends. As I pat her on the shoulder sympathetically all I can think about is what time my best friend will be by to pick up her plans for the new loft she’s renovating before wondering if the other client will hate the bedroom without seeing the amazing view. The view can’t be duplicated by floor plans but clients don’t always understand that. I take three calls and leave the office for thirteen minutes to get some air. When I return I’ve missed his call that tells me to be home on time or I’ll miss him and not to change my dress.

My friend drops in to grab the plans and drops the bomb about needing a room for a nursery before the clients tell me they hate the living room without a view, but love the idea of a bedroom with a view. Their two children move the coasters on the conference room table while we keep talking about plans and views. The woman, the mother is distracted from the meeting by her children and she’s only giving the presentation a 35% attention while focusing across the room. I can’t help but notice that her eyes wander over and under the boards to catch small glimpses. Its then I wonder how much of her day is consumed by this responsibility. The small lives that she guards and watches over must come before so much more than this change of address.

Halfway home, I decide to walk. Thinking and walking are never bad partners. All things that I keep thinking about picking a fight over are not important. It’s not exactly lies that I’m upset over, it simply inconsistencies and things left unsaid. Thinking of this dress that’s too long and tomorrow’s plans on the agenda aren’t enough to distract. Even thinking about my friend’s loft and her news of a baby on the way doesn’t shake the feeling of not knowing and questioning from my mind. Truth isn’t what I’m missing it’s the things that he’s not sharing, but as I reach the door I realize that he’s not like me, not always thinking, instead he’s saying. If there’s nothing being said then maybe there’s nothing missing.

As I turn the handle and open the door there it is the thing he isn’t sharing with me right in my face. Happy Anniversary, I love you. The thing I forgot to remember because I couldn’t stop thinking. Thinking so much about nothing in the dress that he gave me for last year’s gift and missing the most important thing, that I love him and while he’s standing in front of me showing me what am I thinking? Nothing of shorter dresses, makeup, missing keys or even later or early. I’m thinking of nothing when I close the door and show him right back.

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