I don’t know which is worse, the fail or the flashback.
Today, I was unable to come through on a deadline for shirts for one of our derby teams. I feel bad, but can’t do anything about the fact that the vendor put a larger order before ours, that’s life and if I had to make a choice between a large order and a less than 20 (shirts, not soap. An order of 20 bars is HUGE for me) I’d push the small order.
That really doesn’t make me feel any better about it, of course.
When I informed the team captain, she sounded understanding, but said her girls would be pissed. Then she said those hated words.
“It is what it is”
Flashback to my relationship with the Cowboy, who described our affair with those words. The description was accurate. You and I both know it lasted longer than it should have, that I should have walked away when he said he wasn’t ready for a relationship instead of hoping for all those months that he would develop feelings for me. I’m not saying I would trade the time we spent together, or that I regret it, but I understand the reality of it now. The reality is exactly as he put it on that last day. I was more into it than he was. It was what it was.
I realized the other day that it’s been two years since that ended. I still think of him often and hope he is well. Like any old wound though, mostly healed but maybe not completely, it still stings at unexpected times. The scar gets itchy, or something catches the last remnants of a lingering scab and makes it bleed again.
Then I started to think about other things. Other frustrations, other issues. Burn out is a problem right now. I would take a little break but don’t want to lose my responsibilities. I don’t want to quit. I remembered after an evening back at the rink how much I love the sport when I am not slipping and sliding and fearing for life and limb against floor outlets and extension cords.
Growing pains I suppose. I miss the simpler times. When uniforms didn’t have to match and I didn’t have to worry if the building was going to run out of TP. When I didn’t think that perhaps Derby had completely taken over my life…