To be clear, none of that happened to me.
And, in comparison to other countries, cultures, or individuals, my week would probably rank very low on the significant scale. But it is relative, and we must not forget that.
I do not want to think that I jinxed myself in any way, but I started Monday morning by exclaiming, "it is a new month, and it is the start of a good new week." Actually, Monday did start off okay. I finished my first week of the Goblet Squat 21 day challenge (find out more about the workout at this link here: saturdaymorningsarcasm.com) and was feeling stronger than ever.
The work day was semi-productive (more on that in a moment), and as I started making dinner for myself, I decided to call my grandmother. We had a delightful conversation about various things, and I just felt pretty fuzzy after we spoke for 15 minutes. I cherish these brief moments when I can speak with her; I am very fortunate that she is still mentally fit and finally herself able to move about with a bit less restriction. "Bryan, I sure hope that Germany get their act together with the vaccinations soon. Now, I have to go play bridge. Bye." Awesome words from an awesome lady.
Tuesday should have been a good day, since my fuzzy Grandmother feelings regularly buoy me through. Unfortunately, I found myself really angry and distracted for no real reason in particular, other than the elephant walking around in my apartment. Productivity was really low, motivation was lacking, and looking back, it was probably poor judgement on my side to immediately take the language assessment test that I was notified of late in the work day. My company offers language courses, and, having a pretty noticeable non-German name, I was on the distribution list from the personnel development department.
Funny, I am fairly certain about my language level, and recognize both my desire and my need to improve. Last year during my idle time I had researched various online courses to take, but kind of procrastinated, and then suddenly was starting back to work.
I look forward to this opportunity to engage with an instructor again, but like I said, I first had to take the assessment test: 45 minutes of online/multiple choice stuff. The results were immediate, and I scored almost EXACTLY where I expected to, and was still disappointed. I even can remember the questions where I made my errors.
Strange how my expectations were met, but it did not feel that great.
I could sense trouble brewing. Obviously several things are bugging me right now, and it was quickly becoming a little too much. I sat listlessly watching some film on Tuesday evening, then came across the animated version of Curious George, the film from 15 years ago with Will F playing the man in the yellow hat.
A handful of people know that Curious George happens to be my all time favorite. I loved the books as a child, and as stuffed animals go, my 2 foot tall George was incredibly loved. Amazingly enough, he survives to this day; he became my nephew's buddy back in 2002 when Daniel was born.
There is a lot of sentiment and emotion associated with Curious George, and back when the movie came out, I elected not to see it. Until Tuesday night.
Watching the movie simply warmed my heart. I found the film pretty good, but the memories were even better. Back when I was reading the books, I knew that it was a husband and wife team who authored and illustrated, but I did not realize that they were German. During my discovery of this information the following morning, I also realized why no one in Germany knew who the hell I was referencing when I mention Curious George. As a tough guy who can squat goblets with the best of them, it takes a real man to stand up and admit that stuffed animals and the names of Sesame Street characters are discussion topics with various friends in Frankfurt.
Had I been introduced to Curious George as Coco (as he is known to German children, young and old), I am not sure I would have been as enthralled. I will never really know the answer to that question, but that is just fine.
Despite the fuzzies I was feeling, Wednesday proved to be another tough day. During a rather positive discussion with a potential customer, I found myself looking at the negative. Why were they flopping around so much? Had they not reviewed our proposal thoroughly? Why were they not asking more questions?
If this customer chooses to go forward with us, it will effectively the first "win" that I have been involved with in my new role. All of that is a good thing, but I was still stuck on less positive aspects, due to my lousy mood.
My mood impacted my piano playing, too. I had to force myself to sit down and play, and nothing came naturally. My thoughts were all over the place, with an extra helping of the blahs. I wisely lowered the volume of the instrument (an advantage of the digital age), as there was no sense in pissing off the neighbors.
Thursday was the real low point of the week. Work was a complete write off; I found myself totally unable to concentrate, and my thoughts just seemed to be getting darker and darker. I had a chat with my father, our first time to skype since the previous weekend. That conversation did little to improve my mood, as I got irritated listening to him complain about how one of the first "finally able to worship again in person" services had a few hiccups. Why nit pick about something like that instead of simply being grateful to get back together after 14 months?
I made myself some tortilla soup on Thursday evening, as we are still quite chilly in Frankfurt. I put in extra jalapeño, and managed to consume the whole pot while I watched a coming of age film, my way of passing the time before the Arsenal match.
The match did not go well, but I half way expected it. Erik had written in a previous text message exchange, "I hope I do not go to bed in a bad mood," which was very much a feeling I could relate to. Although I no longer get so wound up when my team loses, it is not always so easy to simply laugh it off.
To be fair, the loss did not worsen my mood as I went to bed that night.
On Friday morning, I woke up asking myself, "had Arsenal won their game, would have I still dreamt about Bo and Uncle Jesse?"
Yep, that is right. I dreamed that I was driving around with one Duke and his uncle. Tom Wopat was nowhere to be found, and what I did find particularly interesting is that the car showed no signs of a confederate flag. In fact, it was neutral in color, kind of like it had just been primed for a paint job. The fact there was some containers of blue paint in the garage (when we all got in to drive around and do donuts) suggest that we were not even in the deep south.
For the better part of Friday, I could not feel my lips, thanks to my spicy soup from the previous evening, but I was rather thankful that my work day was more productive. I was feeling relief towards the end of the day, not only due to the sensation returning, but also because the week was finishing.
All things considered, it was not that bad of a week, but I just could not kick the lousy mood. I remembered that it is okay to have a bad day or a bad week, or even a bad year. Sometimes those things will happen. Accept it, and move on.
Take it as it comes, in other words.
I must say, that my coffee tasted better this morning. Whether that is due to me changing out the water filter in the tank, or the fact that I am a super barista is unclear, but I am taking it as a step in the right direction.
I am one of those guys who tend to get irritated by overly perky people who say things like, "turn that frown upside down." Part of me wants to throw a piping hot cup of coffee in their face.
But that would be a waste of a good coffee. More importantly, I know better.
That being said, thinking about it did turn my frown into a smile.
So it is Saturday, I am smiling, and I am taking it as it comes.
see you out there
bryan
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