I've been sick since Friday, taking it easy since Saturday, and doing absolutely nothing but wallowing in my sickness since Sunday afternoon. It was miserable and a blessing in disguise. I got to rest and not feel guilty about it. I ate only soup for four days straight. I set a personal record for number of trips to the bathroom and amount of liquid consumed in one day. Too much information? Oh well. It's true. I watched lots of movies, read my book, knitted my arm warmers, napped, and slept in.
I am now up and about. I am at work [taking a break] again. Looking forward to a weekend away. Going home to visit my family and am taking wonderful boyfriend home with me to meet them all.
I've never taken anyone home to meet my family. Ever. The closest I've ever come is having my extended family present the evening of my junior prom so they could see my date pick me up. I loved my dress [ivory, empire waist, spaghetti straps, a princess dress without too much poofiness] and my hair looked like a sheep.
I digress. I am going home–WE are going home. We. The two of us. There will be trips down memory lane, lots of good food, french press coffee [for mom and me, he doesn't drink coffee, neither does dad], laughter, snow, rain, mountains, and love. He will meet LOTS of family and close friends. The people who have mattered most for so many years will get to meet this new person who matters so much to me.
I am nervous. I have no previous experience with which to compare this. I think back to my junior prom and how nervous I was to walk down the stairs, to see my boyfriend. Small potatoes compared to this weekend. A thousand scenarios run through my mind ending in anything from tears to fist fights, there's even one that ends in a mobster style shootout. It's silly really. He's fabulous. My people are fabulous. I'm even fabulous now and then, and intend to be on my most fabulous behavior for this weekend. What could go wrong? [This question is the kiss of mobster style shootout death.]
It will all be okay. It will all turn out how it is supposed to turn out. So now I take a deep breath, glance at the lily on my arm, and remind myself that each day has enough worries of its own, and I've been out of the office long enough to have plenty to worry about right here and now.
Mobster style shootout or not this weekend will be one to remember.