Tick Tock... in Packrat

U2 released their second single by that title in 1980, and since I’m now counting down only a couple of days until going to St. Louis to see U2 (I’m going to St. Louis to see U2!!! As if you didn’t know that),, it seemed an appropriate title.
…I’m excited but nervous, too. I worry about things I never even had to think of before: how far a walk is it from the hotel to the venue? will I have to circle the whole stadium to get to my seat? Do the steps have railings I can use to get to my seat? Should I take my staff, and will I be allowed in with it once there? What will I do with it once seated?
…I really thought I’d be farther along in my healing process. I wear a normal shoe, which keeps my foot supported, my walk straighter and more normal (I’ve been told I walk like a duck, so as “normal” as my walk can be), but I’m using muscles not used in the months since December, and I get weary. I can feel the improvement even so, but I wanted this part of the process done and over by now. I didn’t get tickets in the handicapped section and barely got tickets in a seated area because with months to go I thought I’d be past this point, and who sits during a U2 concert? I couldn’t even sit still during one of their videos when not yet allowed out of the house! I didn’t want any of this on my radar when going on the adventure that is U2!
…But I don’t think worry would be so much in my head if my mother hadn’t started in with hers. Before U2 added dates and I thought I’d missed out, she told me she was sorry I’d miss them but had been worried because of the concert bombing in Manchester. When the added dates were announced she wasn’t quite as worried because I go to St. Louis for business frequently and have friends and colleagues there, plus it’s only an hour flight away or about a six hour drive. I’m not going anywhere in the wilds or a place unfamiliar to me or even to her.
…She worries because she sees me get so tired that when I crash I don’t move a while. She doesn’t see how getting her water, medicine, soup, blankets, the phone, arranging her bedshieets and pillows, occasional shopping and errands, as well as fixing supper, doing the laundry and dishes, taking care of my pride and pack, all AFTER being at work with the next day to ready for could make me tired when already limited. Then she gripes because I don’t cater to her like her helpers do. These helpers are either paid to do so or are relatives who aren’t working that day (to take her to the doctor, etc.), so I get that stress as well. She doesn’t take into consideration that they put in only a few hours a day or those few hours every few weeks. They’re home by early evening, their activities done.
…Well, I didn’t mean to rant. I’m perturbed that my Excellent Adventure is marred by my body and her fears. It isn’t just this one time. I learned “can’t” from her fears. My job means I travel quite a bit alone. I enjoy it. She’s been wishing someone could go to St. Louis with me, and I said I’m glad no one can - they’d just be someone for me to worry about, who would be in the way and thus ruin the experience. I’m tired of being responsible right now.
…Except I’ve checked out where my hotel is located in relation to the stadium (it’s so close it could be part of the venue); I have over an hour to get to my seat from my room (the doors open about an hour before and I don’t need to be there for the opening act); I can get a collapsible cane which I can then put away without fuss. Plus I’ll get a couple of nights away when I won’t have anyone else to worry about but myself - although I started thinking that I should set up some meetings while there but talked myself out of it.

Budgets. Bah! I finished mine and turned it in in early July when it was due. Today I received an email that my budget hadn’t been turned in! Instead of just sending new copies I dug through my email to resend, which would include the date it was originally sent; my email usually just lists the most recent thing first and everything else chronologically. This time it’s arranged in subject order, and you have to name the subject exactly. Whaaat? My email sometimes acts weirdly and eats messages so this is likely just some weird thing it’s doing, but it pricked at my last nerve which is already on shaky ground.

Maw’s meeting. Avoided seeing S again. The executive director is so full of himself that he didn’t show up or even bother to tell HIS BOSSES he wouldn’t be there. Everyone at that table is his boss, actually. I said I don’t want him involved as he’s a terrible communicator (he’s done this kind of thing before and doesn’t like to answer questions), his decisions have been poor, he hasn’t provided the simple things I requested, and he resigned, so how committed is he to the project? I know he resigned because the board who is his immediate boss let him make all the decisions and wouldn’t accept his resignation, but what I saw the elected leaders see and have the same concerns, plus we have a friend on a statewide gaming commission who has filled out the picture. Two board members are on the way out. Mr. Executive Director is puffed up with himself for nothing. I’m sure he didn’t tell S anything about the meeting - he didn’t before - so now he can just face the music knowing he has none of us impressed or fooled.
..I did enjoy pointing out that all such projects have to go through my office.
…One tribal leader kept bypassing my office. He dismissed my counterpart with a state agency as “that little lady in a corner office” in preference to whom he called “the higher ups”. I knew he dismissed me, too. I really was a little lady in a corner office myself, and the higher ups don’t have the details unless those of us in the trenches provide them. The federal agent always checked things out with me and announced that he wasn’t signing off on anything unless he saw my name on it.
…That’s the law.

Fresh air. New elected officials. The swearing in was full of good feelings and good vibes. I did complain to the new leaders that none of them tried to buy my vote with cookies but I voted for them anyway. I told CYB that I wanted to just sit in the lobby of the government building and bask in the glow of the dawning of a new Golden Age. He’s a part of that; now we have only one serving who can’t be trusted.
…If a knight I would be holding my sword aloft and pledging my loyalty and service to the realm.
…Well, okay, I hold my pen aloft but no one is here to see me and it lacks the flair of the sword.
…Although we all know the pen is mightier. :-)