June 30, 2009

Hazards encountered in warp drive

This is how our life works right now. It’s pretty confusing as we are traveling in two different time zones, literally and figurally. I stay here in Denver taking long naps, watching TV, and exercising my arm while my brain moves at 25 MPH. Esperando hops around like a flea all over North America commuting for his job between the San Francisco Bay Area, Vancouver, Santa Rosalia, Mexico City and Denver, mentally and physically speeding around at Mach 10. Two days ago he was on his way up here from Baja, but because his flight was delayed by three hours he missed his connection in Los Angeles and had to spend the night there. He got up to go to the LAX airport at 3:30 am to start wait-listing for the earliest possible flight out and arrived in Denver mid-morning yesterday. The first thing we did was go buy him a new suitcase as his current one is trashed; he travels so constantly that he goes through a suitcase in about 6 months. When we got back to the house, he worked the rest of the day stopping at 6 pm to grill lamb burgers for dinner. This morning we took the dog for a walk, then I went to yet another doctor appointment while he packed to go to Washington, D.C. for some important financing meetings.

My new doctor is a back specialist. I have been having problems with my lower back for the last two months and it took about a month to get an appointment with this guy. I was still struggling to fill out the paperwork that the doctor’s office gives you when you start out as a new patient and was shown to an examining room when my cell phone rang. It was Esperando wanting to know if I left the suit that he wanted to wear to D.C. at the cleaners after the Brainy Blonde’s wedding in May. “I think it’s the one I gave away to the Goodwill,” he muttered as he hung up. I was still trying to focus on the forms and not think about the suit when the doctor came into the room. I must not be the only one who is behind the eight ball filling out these forms as there was a ‘bone pile’ of about ten discarded pens lurking on the table beside me from others who had been finishing up their personal data. The doctor decided I would probably get better on my own, but need some physical therapy for a bulging disc. Oh boy, more physical therapy!! He sent me off with a couple of prescriptions and a new appointment should things not improve.

Now that I was done with the doctor, I could properly focus on the Missing Suit. I just couldn’t ever remember taking it to the cleaners. Then it came to me—he hadn’t worn a suit at the wedding; he wore a blazer. The suit had been given to the Goodwill because he said it didn’t fit anymore. When I got home I reminded him of this. “Yes,” he said, “I gave away the wrong suit, I gave away the suit that fit me. The one left in my closet now was the one made in Thailand that doesn’t fit.”

It is one of those ‘Aha!’ moments. Your husband hands you a nice wool suit and says, “give this away, it doesn’t fit anymore, I don’t know how it ever could have fit even when I had the tailor make it 15 years ago in Thailand. In fact, it is impossible that it ever fit me.” This little nagging in your brain tells you that the suit he is handing you is not the right one, not the one from Thailand that you remembered being a different fabric, but your conscious mind is not listening to that little nagging voice. You are remembering the trip to Thailand—going to the tailor there; eating Thai food; watching the little Thai girls give him a haircut/massage; and thinking about how the suit did fit him at one time. You are clearly not focused on the suit you are holding in your hands. Your brain stopped concentrating when you married Esperando, now it is basically a lame brain. And if you're are Esperando, your brain moves way to fast, it is like a stone skipping over the water, missing little chunks of information along the way because you are riding the waves and most of the time it works, but now and then something falls through the cracks. And that, my friends, is how you give away the wrong suit.

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