As predicted, my Friday night also didn’t work out as expected. When the contractor made plans with me, he gave me a heads up that depending on his work schedule it may not pan out. Having dated several contractors, I’m now pretty knowledgeable about their work life restrictions, so didn’t expect to see him.
At least he didn’t ghost this time. A long text arrived early Friday morning that he had to work late that night and all weekend. It was no problem. Ann 2.1 welcomes time to write.
I worked late Friday night and left the office only when my stomach told me I should. Zane once asked when I “got off work” and I had to explain it simply doesn’t happen that way for me. I work until what I need to get done is done, but I also often control the schedule and can choose to leave at 4 pm on a Friday and do the rest over the weekend. But not this Friday.
I intended to have an early bedtime. It was a complete fail: I got into “The Crown” and didn’t go to sleep until 2 am. Instead of work, I focussed on personal writing instead. It was a perfectly fine night with my wine, my computer, Netflix, and my couch.
Due to some classes Will is taking, I have Liam every weekend this winter. I signed him up for snowboarding lessons for 8 weeks since a friend of his is also going. Since I was committing to being at a ski resort every weekend, I decided to try skiing again. Because why the heck not?
It has been 20 years since I was on skis and given my freak accident last year, I was doubly scared. But I figured I should face the fears head-on. But hopefully not face first.
Having no idea how I would do, I booked a private lesson during Liam’s lesson.
It felt awesome.
The father of a very close family friend died a week ago and the funeral was on Sunday. I knew him as well: it was a very sad day. Far too young and far too sudden.
Several speeches highlighted how much he supported “wild women”, which was my experience with him as well. Having spent time that morning writing a post about being able to share my whole self, it hit me even harder than it normally would.
Cue the tears.
The men in my life who can accept me for my whole self are rare indeed, and I cherish them.
Seeing my friend at the front of the room, this tall, buff, tattooed man crying at the loss of his father… it broke everyone there.
Liam and I spent the rest of the day at the wake at my friend’s house. He’s married to a woman I’ve been friends with since we were little; she’s a sister to me. They’ve been together since late high school. So their close friends I’ve known that long as well.
Including the man who was one of the last I had a flirtation with before I met Will.
A little while into the party, he came over to talk to me. We stayed in each other’s atmosphere for the rest of the afternoon and evening. At some points, he stood very close and it was a little hard to breathe.
He’s tall, handsome in a rugged way, and… a firefighter.
He recently shuttered his business as… a contractor. Of course.
It had been many years since we’d seen each other. He’s married with four young children and miserable in his marriage. I’ve gotten the occasional updates about him through my friend, so it wasn’t a surprise to hear him tell me. Later, he confided to me that despite creating a reduced workload to try to repair things at home, it wasn’t working and he expects to be separated within the year.
I’d heard he wasn’t always faithful and despite the way he looked at me, he didn’t hit on me. I was relieved to not have that moral dilemma.
I have plenty of decisions to make already.
Image from the 1959 Italian movie “…and the Wild Women”