Over the last few months, despite the need to readjust to corporate life (yes, the slave has been recaptured), to the kids going back to school, to helping out Mel’s family through the tragedy, to finally committing to building our dream house, I have been surprisingly calm … freakishly zen. It took a journey of many ups and downs; but I think I am finally at peace with the world. Even in the gravest circumstance, I see hope. My sister continues to inspire me to reach for certain ideals I thought I have long abandoned. My husband and my kids make me laugh and keep me focused on what matters. I have found my center.
But then again …
At the gym this morning, a guy was screaming at the top of his lungs by the women’s locker room entrance: “Jane! Jane!”. Five minutes into his repetitive speil, I walked out. ‘Couldn’t help myself — I had to say to him, “Maybe she’s still in the shower,” and as soon as I turned my back, I mumbled, “… Tarzan.”
Okay, so maybe I’m not quite there yet.