Why is it that you always run into the very person that you measure yourself by and are on the losing end of the ruler, when you look your worst? You know, she's the beautiful friend from college who got all the guys when you couldn't catch one. She partied seven days a week, was a cheerleader and a pre-med major and still made straight A's. You were an engineering major who was at every party with her and had no extracurricular obligations, yet you were all but flunking out. She went on to become a doctor, and you dropped out and became a flight attendant. During the bridesmaid season of our lives, when she was in residency, she was kind enough to tell me I "missed my calling" as a compliment when I helped another bridesmaid fix her hair. We met at an ivy league school, so cosmetology was not one of the majors offered. Maybe she did not know.
We are in the same organization though in different states, so we bump into each other every year at the regional conference. In 2021, the year that everyone timidly came out of COVID hibernation, we had to have proof of a negative test within 24 hours in order to attend. I was so happy to be going to be near other people. I had passed my test and was ready.
Well, I arrived a tad bit late (as always), so I had to park at the waaayyy-back portion of the lot and hurry so that I would not miss my meeting. I grabbed my heavy bag, my hot coffee, and proceeded to walk-run. Unfortunately, I am at the age where the tiniest bit of stress (and that includes running late and running across the lot) as well as certain food triggers like hot black coffee will set off a hot flash quicker than you can say the word itself: menopause. So the last piece of the COVID approval was a temperature check at the door. I failed.
The nice ladies serving as door bouncers said for me to stand to the side, and wait a minute, then we will take it again. However, that caused more stress. And I was still drinking my coffee. I failed again. The ladies all immediately stepped back -- way back -- from me and told me I had to find a CVS and take another test.
I had driven four hours to get there and had paid 300 dollars for the conference; I was not giving up. I had to look up the nearest testing location, Waze the directions which sent me through scary sketchy neighborhoods, and pray for the proof I needed. I took the test again, and it was negative. By now, I was very late, and very anxious. I could feel the heat pouring off of me. I failed the temperature test, again.
This time I began arguing with these cruel creatures the guardians of the door who were too young to understand the mechanics of menopause. I had paid for two tests, and they were both negative. Since I fulfilled my requirements to attend, I was demanding to be let in and was practically crying with frustration. They decided to call the manager of health for the entire conference about this crazy babbling lady who was attacking them when she was the one with the fever or so their instruments said. And when the head of health for the conference came out, to see this "hot" mess of a woman, it was my friend. Yes, she understood the mechanics of menopause, stress, coffee, running, and well, me. So she let me in.
Well, yesterday, five years later, I was attending the conference again. I had decided to skip a meeting and sleep in. My roommate came in and said that she needed help carrying some items to room 304. Still in my jammies, I threw my velour crumpled sweats on top and was looking pretty tacky and about ten pounds over weight with the combination of flannel and sweats. I did not bother with my hair, and my eye liner had smudged from my nap. I didn't care, I was going back to sleep upon my return. I grabbed her little cart with the fancy silly little flags that she had cleverly tied on to announce her entrance with all of her donations and headed to the elevator. The door opened and who did I run right smack into but my friend. Will this humiliation ever end?
No comments:
Post a Comment