Thank you Courteney
Me by text: No, still working. Sigh. Done 930ish then will grab a quick bite.
I've been feeling overwhelmed lately. More than overwhelmed. Working full time along with all my other commitments hasn't left enough time for the girls. Racing home to try and catch them for a few minutes before bed, then waking up to play with them for a half hour and give them breakfast before racing out the door has been tough. Then just when I'm feeling it most, a trip to Chicago for a conference.
Suddenly I understand why my father brought me home trinkets every time he returned home from Houston or Jackson or wherever his own job had him traveling when I was a kid. I promised Thalia a "special treat," hugged her, and walked to the door towards the waiting Town Car.
I couldn't even kissing Sage goodbye; she was napping.
I had one of those verge-of-tears kind of mass in my throat as the driver helped me with my bag.
"Passenger's here!" he shouted into the air as he fiddled with the bluetooth headset. "I'm transporting and I'll get back to you in one hot minute!" He turned to me with the warmest, most genuine smile imaginable. "My sister. She's in Florida, at the playground with her son right now."
A moment ago you couldn't have convinced me that I would have had a conversation with a driver the whole trip to LaGuardia--I just wanted to sulk. But with Courteney, I couldn't help myself. We talked about our fortieth birthdays, we compared notes on Obama, he volunteered his favorite commercials in hiliarious detail. He spent a good five minutes breaking down the lyrics to a song from "my girl, Annie Lenox" then played it for me, belting out the lyrics almost in tune.
He made me laugh.
Sometimes the universe sends us the people we need, right when we need them.
Thank you Courteney. I arrived at the airport on time. And smiling.