It's backwards day on the blog today.
My most recent Thursday tennis contract at Bay Road went extremely well to the end, but took a downturn in a conversation after we got off the court. So, from good to bad.
The same day, the ride to Boston started off on a bad note when the driver arrived and said she needed to go get gas. I was annoyed. She was new, and I told her I don't want to make a big deal of it but they really want me to be on time, and drivers are supposed to come with a full tank of gas. She started pouring her heart to me, and by the end of the day, when she left me off at home, I wanted to adopt her. So, from bad to good.
First, tennis. As I wrote previously, there is one person in the group who is very critical. Only of me, the new kid on the block. (It's my second year.) I told my friends in Enfield, where I never have a problem, some of the things this woman has said and done, such as criticizing how hard I drop the ball when trying to figure out if it is dead. When they hear it, they roll their eyes and say it would be hard to put up with.
Well last week, we made it all the way through with good tennis and no problems. We even laughed when we were partners and each of us missed a shot because we admitted we were admiring the other's shot. She told me "good shot" a few times.
Afterwards, when we were packing up to go and talking about our aches and pains, I mentioned the neuropathy in my feet. I said it bothers me LESS when I play tennis. Maybe it's because the circulation is better, or maybe it's because I'm thinking about other things.
In any case, after I brought up the neuropathy, she said, "Oh, so that's why you move so slowly!"
That's not right for anyone to say. But she is a cancer survivor who should know better about criticizing someone for side effects. Hey, she tosses the ball so many times before serving that sometimes I feel like I'm going to jump out of my skin from the annoyance of it. I just try to bounce on my feet and get ready for the serve, when it finally comes.
Plus, BTW, I'm not THAT slow.
Just wondering, by extension, if someone had a headache, would anyone say, "Oh, that's why you look so bad?"
OK, thanks for listening, on to my poor driver.
I went to get into the back seat like I usually do, because I like to spread out my newspaper and other stuff. She seemed offended.
"You're not going to sit in the front?"
I got in the front.
She has training as a hairdresser, but she's driving so she can have a more flexible schedule to take care of her two young daughters. Her husband left her because she was no longer fun. He denied having an affair, but she found him out through looking at text messages. It was a couple of years ago, but she is still devastated, uncomprehending. She was sweet and pretty. I was not happy with him.
I think this is about as far as we got by the time I got to Boston for the light therapy on my skin, at the Kraft Family Blood Donor Center. I told the nurse I was exhausted, and, after the needles were in, I promptly fell asleep. I almost got in the back seat for the ride home, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. So I got more of the story.
Her mother abandoned her as a child and went off somewhere or other on the west coast. Her father was alcoholic and abusive. She got out of the house and stayed with friends. At least now, her mother-in-law seems to be on her side and takes care of the kids when she is driving late.
She said she put up an online dating profile but took it down. Ever the organizer, I looked up Meetups in her area and told her that she might meet somebody by going out and doing something she likes.
Then, to show her she isn't alone, I played "Anybody Have a Map?" from Dear Evan Hansen.
Can we try to have an optimistic outlook, huh?
Can we buck up just enough to see the world won't fall apart?
Maybe this year, we decide
We're not giving up before we've tried
This year, we make a new start
She seemed to like it. I always love listening to it.
I said I hoped I would see her again, and she said next time she would come with gas.
By the way, I wasn't late for the appointment.