Take that, divorce-driven anxiety and sadness!

It’s been a good weekend so far. Yesterday I peeled myself out of bed sometime around 6:45 in the morning. Shook off grogginess, stuck a baseball cap on my head and made it out to the community garden by 7:30.

Nobody was there yet, as expected, so I opened the shed and started pulling out tools and staging plants for the day’s gardening. There were ducks talking in somebody’s yard nearby, and the flats of basil smelled amazing. I was enjoying the quiet and enjoying the feeling of doing tasks that I wouldn’t be evaluated on.

Then another woman showed up early to the garden and I had a new work buddy to chat with. Yay! She helped me put out the rest of the plants (the tomatoes also smelled wonderful) and we ended up planting a few rows of basil together. Then I left to go to my job.

For any random person who stumbles across my blog and is an extrovert / some other combination of intro-extrovert and actually manages to get out and do things regularly with other humans called “friends” during something called “free time,” lemme tell you: I hate you. No! I don’t. Really truly. What I want to say is, I struggle with this. I struggle with the time aspect (I got none) and I struggle with the social anxiety aspect (I got some). But I’ve been chipping away at the anxiety over the years and with the sudden change in my family structure I am trying to allot more time to being social. I am more likely to enjoy myself when I go out these days than I was, say, 5 years ago (let’s not even talk about 10 years ago). And that is a Big Fucking Deal.

So, I had fun at the garden this morning. Yay!

Work at the office went fine, I got some stuff done on the computer, blah blah blah. I chatted with the volunteer who was helping to keep the visitor center open, and I was glad to see how good she was about interacting with the people who came through. She was pointing things to one group out the viewing window, and waving goodbye to another group while telling me they were on a trip from the Netherlands. Other volunteers take a more hands-off approach with guests and just let them roam, which is fine. But this volunteer was one of the ones with the social spark, and it’s a pleasure to see somebody who is good at interaction and really enjoys it. It strikes me as both funny and weird that my job is a “people job” that requires me to interact and coordinate with people on a daily basis. Truly, when I stand around chatting with volunteers at work, that is part of my job. I would have been terrified of this position a decade ago. And I would have been terrible at it. But during my mid-term review my supervisor made a point to say that was one of my strengths. Maybe I should print out that part of the review and frame it for my wall at home. Big life lesson: Social skills can be learned. And it is easier to enjoy things that you are skilled at.

Funny that we have to learn that lesson over and over in life. Individuals do have inherent strengths and weaknesses, but I think we put too much importance in that and not enough importance in our learning abilities. I remember when I was an art student, listening to people in a drawing class talk about how they avoided art classes because they were no good at them. What I knew about art and what they didn’t was that becoming “good” was a matter of practice. If you don’t want to practice, okay. Go pick a different hobby. But it seemed like such a sad thing to me, to avoid doing art because you were no good at it.

Different subject, same conversation.

I ended yesterday by going thrift store shopping. I don’t have many professional clothes. My current work “uniform” consists of t-shirts (I do have two collared shirts– fancy!), a sweatshirt, a long-sleeve work shirt (that is too short, because apparently I am not built like other humans), and a baseball cap. But I’m going to be applying to other jobs soon, and maybe in the fall I will be working in the school system. *gulp!* (I would be glad to have that kind of nervousness in my immediate future — first I have to get hired to be even in the substitute pool.)

Shopping for clothes makes me angry. It takes up a lot of time and I never know if I’m going to find anything that fits. But sometimes thrift stores can be gold mines. Yesterday I bought 5 cardigans, 5 shirts, 2 infinity scarves, 1 skirt, 1 brown, faux-leather jacket, and 1 hat (the hat was not professional wear, but I like hats)… all for $55.


at 9:00 I was going to go out for drinks and food with a handful of moms from the parent group, but they cancelled the meetup at the last moment because everybody backed out. It was a little disappointing, but I didn’t care so much. I got takeout from Panda Express and crawled into bed with my extra evening time to read “The Martian,” by Andy Weir.

It was a good day.

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