Lady of the Laundry does some thinking.
Wedding weekend is over, and I'm back to my laundry room in the morning. I have another two weeks in DC, doing mountains of laundry for the FELA! tour. Aside from the commute, I love it; blasting music and dancing over laundry baskets alone for several hours each morning is good detox from camp life.
Starting new jobs and then letting them consume my life is what keeps me from missing people. The old post-camp motto used to be "Re-entry is pants," because post-camp withdrawal sucks. It was a very lonely business, right down to the grocery store--I could never remember the things I like to eat, just what I was used to being fed (two very different things). FELA! has been a good buffer for that; I like my work and to my surprise, I like this crew. I've come to expect co-workers who tolerate rather than like me--that is largely how I felt the last time I worked at this venue, and this time they've shocked me with their warmth. Sure, it's only two more weeks, but it's lovely to feel wanted and appreciated.
Speaking of wanted and appreciated, something I specifically miss is cooking for VDK. Yes, I miss her company and presence and support at work and home, but in my moments of solitary kitchen brilliance, I'm sad that she isn't here to eat my creations. Is this strange? My parents do not like my cooking (they have very simple, bland, meat-and-potatoes taste in food), but in St. Louis, I cooked often, and VDK loved everything I made--she told multiple people multiple times that she would eat anything I made. She hates fish, but loves when I make it. She hates whiskey, but loves the Manhattans I mix for her. It's an ego-booster, yes, but I think it ties into both of us entering into this year's adventure not *really* knowing each other well. Neither of us is very verbal about our feelings (though she is moreso than I), and I find that one of the ways I'm able to communicate my affection is by cooking for people. We'd have a rough day at the shop, drive home, she'd vent, I'd cook, then we'd sit down and eat together and things would be okay. Concocting some new dinner was the best way I could communicate "I'll take care of you when you need it." I'm pretty sure she understands that.
Starting new jobs and then letting them consume my life is what keeps me from missing people. The old post-camp motto used to be "Re-entry is pants," because post-camp withdrawal sucks. It was a very lonely business, right down to the grocery store--I could never remember the things I like to eat, just what I was used to being fed (two very different things). FELA! has been a good buffer for that; I like my work and to my surprise, I like this crew. I've come to expect co-workers who tolerate rather than like me--that is largely how I felt the last time I worked at this venue, and this time they've shocked me with their warmth. Sure, it's only two more weeks, but it's lovely to feel wanted and appreciated.
Speaking of wanted and appreciated, something I specifically miss is cooking for VDK. Yes, I miss her company and presence and support at work and home, but in my moments of solitary kitchen brilliance, I'm sad that she isn't here to eat my creations. Is this strange? My parents do not like my cooking (they have very simple, bland, meat-and-potatoes taste in food), but in St. Louis, I cooked often, and VDK loved everything I made--she told multiple people multiple times that she would eat anything I made. She hates fish, but loves when I make it. She hates whiskey, but loves the Manhattans I mix for her. It's an ego-booster, yes, but I think it ties into both of us entering into this year's adventure not *really* knowing each other well. Neither of us is very verbal about our feelings (though she is moreso than I), and I find that one of the ways I'm able to communicate my affection is by cooking for people. We'd have a rough day at the shop, drive home, she'd vent, I'd cook, then we'd sit down and eat together and things would be okay. Concocting some new dinner was the best way I could communicate "I'll take care of you when you need it." I'm pretty sure she understands that.