A True Friend

Lately I have not written as much because I have been a bit under the gun at work. As anyone with a career can tell you, especkially if you manage crews and deal with workplace politics; from time to time you can be pulled in so many directions at once that sometimes you think you will literally explode. Trying to be everything to everyone at work and then turning around and trying to keep your personal life on an even keel can be a struggle.I admit that.

After a long week last week, I worked the weekend at the station which normally I find relaxing. But that was not the case this weekend, not by a long shot. By the time I walked home in the evening still dressed in my work clothes, I was practically stomping my feet between the station and my house. That and the delightful thought of having to start the new work week back at the hospital the next day without having anything in the way of a day off, was not making anything any better. All I want is a hot shower and a strong drink.

Turning up my driveway the lady that shares the other side of my duplex came out to visit. "Donna" is a nice gal, works in the medical field as an optometrist and so we share our home, yards and gripes and complaints. We sometimes go out to eat just so we can kvetch about work, and life and men. That's what friends do.

Tonight I came home and Donna and I chatted, then I buried myself in yardwork. Donna has her side of our duplex immaculate right now, flowers, lawn, flower beds. She recently broke up with a boyfriend, so she has buried herself in yard work to compensate. My side of the duplex has been mowed, looks okay, but the back lawn and flower beds need help and so a battle ensued. While in the midst of this battle Donna strolled over to the fence, hands on her hips. "Bout damn time you did something over there," she says. Of course she is kidding, but her comment at that moment was the final straw.

I turned around and uncorked on Donna. Angry words and accusations about how she moved into a home with an immaculate yard, while mine was a mess. How she has time to do these things and I don't. How Roundup was not even strong enough to kill some of these damn fucking weeds that I am having a time and half trying to get rid of. How I am tired of always trying to keep up to the "Jones." I found a kids toy ball in my grass and I took it and angrily hurl it as hard and as far as I can, it lands several yards away. Donna stands at the fence and watches my tantrum.

Instead of barking back at me, or just leaving and going inside and ignoring me, Donna finds her rake and shovel, and joins me in my yard battle. My tantrum didnt seem to phase her, and for the next hour she helps me in the yard as I dig and rake out a buried flower bed, and together we kvetch about life again just as we normally do, just as if I had not just had a major explosion earlier.

When it gets too dark to see anymore we stand out longer chatting. I apologize to her for my rather uncharacteristic behavior and she laughs. " For all the shit you deal with at work, I think that tantrum did you some good, more than you might think. Maybe you should do it more often..."

Thanks Donna, for being such a good friend, pitching in to help and understanding that stress just sometimes needs a release.