Chris left this morning for an all-week work trip, so I was left to my own devices today. I didn’t have much desire to leave the neighborhood today, so instead, I spent most of the day obsessing over the cleanliness of the apartment by vacuuming and dusting pretty much every crevice this apartment has. I had already deep-cleaned the bathroom yesterday. Then, I proceeded to hand wash my bras, disinfect our toothbrushes, wash my makeup brushes, and even buff some of the stainless steel appliances in our kitchen. After a 90-minute intense workout at the gym, I showered, did the laundry, went to buy some groceries, and made fresh almond milk and my quick dinner. And with Anthony Bourdain on Parts Unknown in the background, I polished my toe nails and masked my face. I lit candles in the living room to create mood lighting.

I have a hard time staying still. I get annoyed when I feel like I am not doing anything, so then I go find something to do. Anyone who lives with me knows this. My last roommate thought I was crazy. Chris still thinks I like to “fidgit” as he says (I don’t even know how to spell that, but that does not look right). It’s not an entirely bad thing because it means that things get done, and things certainly get cleaned, but it’s bad in that I really don’t know how to relax. I constantly feel like I need to be doing something, producing something. I know I get this from my mom. She’s the exact same way. She feels like she has to be doing something all the time. 

I guess the apple never falls that far from the tree.

It’s as though the morale is so down in our current office that they decided to fly out one of our team managers to host a happy hour for us tonight at a fancy cocktail bar half a block away from our office in the Flatiron. We already had a happy hour to increase team camaraderie last Thursday, but we had to have yet another one today. It’s not that I am complaining about it; it’s more that although I do like nice, well made cocktails that I don’t have to pay for, I think the problems are deeper than what can be solved by getting tipsy with my colleagues.

I originally thought I’d only stay for a drink or two, but I ended up staying out until nearly midnight, which I definitely did not plan at all on doing. Two venues, four drinks, six hours later, it was as though everything just felt like a big blur. But I was extremely cognizant of everything around me. I could feel myself enunciating every syllable clearly to detract from the fact that the alcohol was seeping into my blood and affecting my head. Is this period just a phase, a big haze that will eventually end and morph into something else? I kind of feel like I am floating and things aren’t quite real right now, and I’m not sure why. That then reminded me of this poem I enjoyed by Edgar Allan Poe when I was 13, studying his poetry and short stories. It’s when we ask ourselves what is real vs. what is not, yet we think everything we are experiencing is real. The poem goes something like this:

The world feels like a blur. The mood today is like this song from Death Cab for Cutie. My good friend from college got me into this band at a time when all I knew was mainstream pop music.

The Atlantic was born today and I’ll tell you how…
The clouds above opened up and let it out.

I was standing on the surface of a perforated sphere
When the water filled every hole.
And thousands upon thousands made an ocean,
Making islands where no island should go.
Oh no.

Those people were overjoyed; they took to their boats.
I thought it less like a lake and more like a moat.
The rhythm of my footsteps crossing flatlands to your door have been silenced forever more.
The distance is quite simply much too far for me to row
It seems farther than ever before
Oh no.

I need you so much closer [x8]

I need you so much closer [x4]
So come on, come on [x4]

Tonight, our building’s handyman, who is now one of our friends, invited us over to his place for dinner with his wife and his big (and very diverse) friend crew. We met the week we moved into our building last July, and it was like “like” at first meeting. We immediately bonded over cooking and food, and we won him over by giving him a taste of some whisky we had. He loves bacon and applying sous vide to anything; his wife bakes obsessively and has even catered sweets for one of her good friend’s baby showers. Occasionally when I am planning to cook something and I run into him in the building, I describe what I am cooking, and he will stop by and have a taste or two. “If you make it, I will put it in my mouth,” he always says. There are few things more satisfying than hearing that someone has so much faith in my cooking ability that he will literally eat anything I put out.

It was his turn to impress us tonight: he made pernil (slow cooked pork shoulder), baked mac and cheese made with smoked gouda, dubliner, and gruyere cheeses, and sous vide fried chicken drumsticks. His wife made a lemon tart, a three-flavored cheesecake, and all the appetizers, including deviled eggs that were made with pickled beet dyed egg whites. The sous vide drum sticks definitely won me over, and now an iteration of that is on my list of things to make with my own sous vide precision cooker. What was even more exciting was that a bunch of his friends also love to cook, and so we had a very interesting and intense session of cooking technique discussion while watch

One of my colleagues I’m friends with was in town this week for work, so we organized a small get-together for dinner and karaoke after our scheduled happy hour with our cofounder, who was also in town. I think after a lot of the announced changes this week, we were really due for some fun and relaxation outside of the office, so this night’s outing could not have been better planned coincidentally. We went out, talked about senseless but funny topics, and sang about three hours of karaoke until our vocal chords were cranky and strained. It felt really good to let a bit loose and to just not focus on all the serious and annoying things that have been going on.

I have a subgroup of colleagues I can actually call friends, people I somewhat trust and can feel like I can be myself around. Tonight was kind of evidence of that – no judgments. We’re all in this together, and we’re supportive of each other. It’s a good place to be even in difficult times.

Communication is always key in any relationship. It occurs in multiple forms that continue to evolve as technology evolves. There’s the in-person communication, which, to most normal, rational people, should be considered the best and highest form of communication. There’s video and/or phone communication. There’s e-mail, which most people universally agree, sucks as a main form of communication. There’s also text, electronic chat, Snapchat, Facebook messenger chat, etc.

So when it comes to things like big team announcements, like who a new leader may be, wouldn’t it make the most sense to make it the most personal and to announce that in a live team meeting rather than in an impersonal email?

E-mail is seriously the worst. So much for respect.

My colleague and I were having a conversation about stress management and how people in general take life too seriously and do not enjoy the moment. We both love dogs and think they’re one of the best stress relievers, one of the easiest ways to put smiles on our faces in the office (when we are lucky enough to have a four-legged visitor, that is). I told him about the time I went with a fellow colleague to an animal shelter because she was considering adopting a dog, and there, I fell in love with the most adorable white terrier mix fluffy dog. It was love at first sight. His fluffy fur, his big smiley face, his tongue hanging out, his speedy wagging tail, his energy. He was so enthusiastic and eager to see and play with us… but both of his back legs were out due to an abusive situation he was rescued from. He didn’t seem to mind, though; he continued running around like a happy dog and as though he had no care in the world. His two back legs were dragging, but it was as though they didn’t exist to him. He just wanted to play and be loved. When he goes on walks, he actually has a “wheel chair” for his two back legs so that they don’t drag. In a few days, he would get picked up by his new owner, who had experience caring for handicapped dogs.

So then we said, what would it be like if we could be more dog like, if we could just live and enjoy and stop stressing as much as we do? We’d have less trouble sleeping and concentrating. The past would truly be in the past. We’d focus on what’s right there in front of us instead of worrying over the future and what’s going to happen in a week or a year. Dogs just don’t care what their disabilities are; they barely know they’re disabled (right?). They live and enjoy the moment, then pass out and sleep.

“Be more dog,” my colleague said. “Maybe tomorrow will be more dog like?”

It’s rarely that simple, but at least we can strive to be more in the moment for just a few seconds extra every day… is it possible?

And like it wasn’t already enough for our office to deal with, another sales person who I get along with well, the only female account executive in the New York City office, announces today that she’s resigning. What fun.

“It’s going to get worse before it will get better,” my colleague friend says to me to reassure me. “I think she’s the last shoe to drop for now.”Let all the flies drop and then we can celebrate. All the volatility, all the changes, all the angst… we’ll be okay eventually, right?

I blasted sad love songs the rest of the day. And continued listening to them when I got home. I’m way too invested in this place.. that is why this is all getting to me and making me sad. When did I suddenly become so obsessed with this company and my work?? Why do I care so much?