Summer Part 1 of we'll see

*** I wrote this a few weeks ago with the intention of just pumping it out and publishing it. Suddenly I became really busy, and this story has been left incomplete as many other things have happened. I will finish the series in due course. You'll just have to come back and see. : )

This was one of the craziest summer's of my whole life. Working, interning, trying to have a normal life, trying to relax, trying to figure out if this is the kind of life I want. The answer to that question is: i'm really not sure anymore. Something is pushing me towards a slower pace. I've realized that I can't really function with too much going on in my life. Or, I don't really want to function with too many things going on in my life. It feels like I have this habit now of saying "let me check my schedule and get back to you" when friends ask me to hang out. I don't want to make a lot of money, I just want to enjoy life, and my friends, have time to make meals, not be rushed all the time.

Anyway, back to the topic at hand. After this crazy rushed summer, all I was looking forward to was these two weeks of blissful relaxation -- and then the planning started. P comes from a family whose definition of vacation is basically 'do something with every free moment you have', which in some cases is totally great and fine. I come from a family that a) never really took vacations but b) when we did, it was more of a day-by-day kind of thing. Negotiating between planning every day of our ten day trip got me incredibly stressed and panicked before I left. On top of that, I realized my passport was expired 3 days before I was supposed to leave.

Those days were probably the most stressful days of my whole summer.

I left Montreal praying that I would get home and find peace. Usually when I go home there are a few days of activity at the beginning and then it seriously dies down, which i am more than happy about. I can basically spend hours on the couch without saying a word. Bliss. The first day was fine. The second day we went to a small town for my haircut, and shortly after I started feeling strange, head-achey, a little bit irritable, with a sore throat. Went home, went to bed early and woke up the next day feeling worse. We went back to this small town for an errand and I felt it was bad enough to want to see a doctor. We get to the hospital -- no medicare card, I forgot it at the house. Either we pay a 500$ fee (that gets reimbursed) or wait until the next day. We get some stuff from the pharmacy and call it a day.

It was such a strange illness. A sore throat and persistent dry cough (that would end up lasting for about a month). Appearing out of nowhere.

This means the first 3 days I was home were active, sicky, and generally, with me feeling like crap, still worried about what P will think when he comes down for the first time. Because if you're ever been to the Maritimes, you'll know it's pretty boring.

On the saturday, I asked my mom to drive me to my dad's place (1h30 away) to meet P who will arrive sometime around supper time. We get in the car and I am practically fuming from my frustration. What frustration? Who caused this frustration? At the time, I did not know. I just felt it boiling in me. I don't know if it was because I felt like my vacation was out of my hands with all the activities around me, I don't know if it was being sick, I don't know if it was just plain old negativity, or what. We're driving in the car and I'm seriously questioning making a scene. Instead, I cry a little bit under my sunglasses and feel better.

Once we get to my dad's place, I feel instantly better, which is weird, because that's not a feeling I commonly associate with my dad. Usually my mom is my greatest source of comfort. And to be honest, there was nothing that had happened during the time that I spent with her that was frustrating or irritating or anything in particular.. so it was weird to feel this relief.

As soon as I arrive I'm greeted with hugs and welcomes. We sit down outside on the Adirondack chairs and finally I mellow out a just a tiny bit more.

When I was really young my dad played baseball. We would go to his games, cheer him on from our seats and generally have a great time. I don't remember the last time we went to see him play, but it turns out that he has started playing again recently. That weekend he was participating in a tournament and we went to see him play that evening. It was so much fun! The baseball field is all of 5 minutes away from the house, people are cooking burgers and hot dogs, the sun is setting, it was really nice. I was sitting with my stepmother and half brother, who last year, really rubbed me the wrong way. As I sat down with my water bottle next to me, the bottle got knocked by his foot. He immediately apologized and placed it upright. This shocked me. I thought, oh my god, he's acting like a decent person. I know this sounds harsh -- but you'd be surprised how this 12 year old sent me into a frenzy last year. This moment calmed me a little bit more. I knew that I wouldn't have to worry too much about being around him.

P called a few times to get clearer directions (cause when you're in the boonies, even a gps can't save you!) and our tones were always a little curt, he gets stressed when he's unsure where he's going and I had some residual frustration from the previous days. 

More soon...