March 1--in like a lion. Or whatever

Patience is a virtue, they say. But “they” are always saying something, as Pap has often said. Still, I think it’s a great plan for me to become more comfortable with being patient with myself, and with those around me. I shouldn’t have to feel pleased every second of the day to be OK, should I? I have to let it go when someone cuts me off in traffic, or when Trish cuts off a client in mid-sentence, or when I cut my nails too short. So one of my new goals is to seek patience so I don’t drive myself nuts and drive others away.

I know what you’re thinking, I bet. You’re thinking, “yeah right, let’s see how long this Zen attitude lasts, if it even starts.” Am I at least close? Thought so. I’m pretty impatient and anxious by nature, so it’s no surprise that I just spent the month of hell freaking out over Alex. I really don’t know what the fuss was all about—is that evidence perhaps that the Celexa is finally starting to work? I really hope so, because I’ve been feeling mostly down about my life and prospects, as evidenced by my two blog posts on Feb 27. But I’m starting to feel like I might be entering a period of good luck, or at least not indifferent luck.

I hope the same for Pap, because he could really use some good luck about now. He’s still having trouble with his knees, and it’s painful to think that just a few weeks ago, he was striding better than he had in years. I think it’s due to the cold, wet weather, so maybe once things warm up and dry out, he’ll improve again. But he’s also seeming a little confused or slow these days too, and I’m worried that this might have something to do with the strokes. I can’t imagine him not being in my life the way he has been all these years, so I do hope I’m just overreacting. It doesn’t help that he’s pretty socially isolated and has no close friends to talk to about his condition and what he’s been going through. All he has is his family, a bunch of blood-sucking whiners. No wonder he’s maybe starting to forget stuff, because really, who’d want to remember that kind of crap?

On a happier note, Joy’s thirty-first birthday is on Sunday, March 4, and we’re planning the usual dinner and cake thing in the afternoon. Guess I should call people—Bev, Jennifer…oh, that’s right, John’s moved to LA and Janee still lives in Sacto, so I guess I don’t have to put them on the guest call list. Maybe we’ll have some pizza and salad, but that’s boring. But I’m not feeling particularly Martha-like these days, so maybe that will just have to do. IT would be nice to cook something, though, so maybe Jon can help me brainstorm and execute something nice.

And the SF Chinese New Year’s Parade is this Saturday, and I’m trying to get Jason to agree to drive us all. Maybe we can even go to the Montgomery St. gym—much nicer than the one near my office—beforehand. Jason actually, finally bought cross-trainers, so now he has no excuse not to work out. Geez, he’s being so lame, insisting on joining the gym MONTHS ago, and then refusing to buy shoes to actually get some exercise. It’s been a serious annoyance, but there it is.

Lauren’s farewell cocktail thing is tomorrow night, and since I’ll be in Berkeley already, it’s a no-brainer. Can’t wait to see people—Shane, especially. It’s been a minute since we talked last, but that’s my fault. I didn’t call him back when he called, like, 3 weeks ago. Duh. So I’m in for it. It’ll be amazing to have her working at my company, albeit in SF. She’ll do a great job and take to the work quickly, I just know it. Woohoo!!