not crying, but there are tears

Whatever crying I do is done in private.

Quietly. 

In my room, in the shower, in the darkness of a theater. 

Silently. 

Without witnesses and very little evidence. 

But this isn't about crying. 

It is about tears. 

Allergies have attacked my eyes which have produced tears. 

A lot of tears. 

Additionally, I'm not sleeping very well at night and as a result grow very, very tired during the midst of my workdays. The train rides home turn into yawning marathons. 

Serial yawning produces tears. 

A lot of tears. 

Most of the other commuters ignore me and my waterlogged face. Some pretend to ignore but are clearly disturbed. While others, disturbed and concerned, ask outright, "are you okay, is there anything I can do for you?" 

Nothing to be done except take the anti-allergy meds, try to get enough rest, and keep my pockets stocked with tissues. 

never let them see me cry*

the week tested my mettle in more ways than one. it made me cancel plans to celebrate with my very dear friend one of those milestone birthdays. missing the event pained me deeply and will haunt me for days, if not weeks to come. it made me concerned over my financial present and scared me shit-less over my financial future. it made me cry. it made me sick. it made me tired, weary, and just . . . damn.

but.

i held it together, mostly.  thanks in large part to the presence and help of a new friend.  her listening to me this week, the silver around all the clouds.

she and i are navigating a path toward being more than friends. but for now a friend is what i needed and a friend is what she's been and for that i am truly grateful.  that said, traveling the path toward more . .  the thought, the moves, those feelings made the week bearable and the prospect of beyond, brighter, no matter what.

*six word saturday submission   

Moving to Living

Our little family of companies has been moving this week. It feels deja vu-ish as it was just June 2011 that we moved to where we are moving from. now. Still, as familiar as many of the activities are, this move feels different in a way.

First off, the owner bought the building that we're moving into and that has an, ahhh...finally, a home, kind of feel to it all. Secondly, the building we're moving into has some history. It recently housed a museum and some of the artifacts were left behind by the most recent owners.

Our owner decided to keep some of those, at least for a time. Fun, that.

As excited and eager as I am to settle into our new space, there is also a sense of nervousness. This move comes at the heels of the most challenging 18 or so months of my working life. Business has been bad and we've squeaked by but we are all showing the wear and tear of frustration. And the move? It will either finish us or be our saving grace.

If I were to bet, I'd place my chips on survive and thrive for a number of reasons a couple of which are the owner's commitment to success and the number 3 in our new address. This is my 33rd year with the family of companies (in its many incarnations). The most recent previous location aside, there has been a number 3 in every business (and home -save one-) address of my adult life.

I'm not superstitious or anything, but . . . well, it's THREE.