You know those weeks that are sailing along, full of promise, laughter, love and that utter amazement at how lucky you are to be awake and alive? Yeah that was last week. This week could not be further away from that.
Started with being behind on my newsletter stuff, I’m not a stress case kind of person, I just don’t get worked up in tizzies too often but when I feel like I am letting someone down like I do every time I am late getting my write ups to Randy? Well it sends me into a stress filled, self loathing kind of spin that leaves me dizzy, and speechless…which is always perfect when you are stressed because you are late getting someone your words, and like a complete loser. Then comes the aftermath of introspection, why am I always late? Why can’t I just spill all the love I have for a wine that intrigued me enough to purchase for the store into a shelf talker that will make everyone want to buy it…maybe that’s the bit of pressure that stands on my neck making it impossible to speak. Whatever, between the stress dizzies and the beating up of myself I end up exhausted and lifeless….and that was only Sunday.
Monday, my cherished day off and date night with the wee boyfriend, this had to perk me up right? Um, yeah had to cancel the date night. We were having our annual Wine of the Year judging at the shop so after being called a “wet blanket” by my four year old boyfriend I headed out to taste and vote. Now this is always a fun tasting, the staff is all fired up to share the wines that make our hearts pound, the wines that stood out in a year’s worth of tasting appointments and classes. Great wines, we get to taste, talk about, vote and argue about great wines, a perfect day for me but even this had me feeling a little gloomy.
“Have fun!” the husband chirped on his way out the door for MY date night. “Oh my wines are going to get clobbered” I responded. There was really only one wine worthy of my Wine of the Year this year and I just knew it was going to be knocked out in the first round of judging. Maybe it was the post newsletter gloom but I was sullen when I walked in the shop for the judging, just knowing that a wine I was so in love with was going to get tossed aside and deemed “too weird” or just not good enough.
Wrong! I was so wrong and my odd little wine swept in the White Wine of the Year battle. Amazing, felt amazing and when I got home I could not shut up about it. I was just so thrilled that the wine spoke to everyone and even more excited that a big bunch of people would be giving the wine a try based on our giving it a Wine of the Year approval. So imagine how my heart sank when I got an email from the importer telling me they had made a mistake. “There are 10 cases coming but it won’t be until January and it will be a new vintage” Fuck….fuck. Most of you probably won’t understand how crushing this was for me, for that consider yourself lucky that you are not as big a geek as I am but….my eyes literally filled with tears as I read those words. It’s not winning, hell all the wines I put up took the win this year, it was this one wine and the hope….the belief I had in it, the way I wanted everyone to have their hearts pound away too. Deflating but….that was just Monday.
Tuesday found me picking at the scab of an argument that never truly healed for me and brought the added benefit of rage, disappointment and hint of condescension from someone I love very deeply.
Wednesday was a whole ball of wax; found out we were in fact not done with the newsletter…a big important part simply forgotten, (insert self loathing here), an email from another loved, a giant slap in the face and questions of loyalty, a documentary that ripped my heart out and sent me to bed puffy with tears and wondering how people can be so cruel but….that was just Wednesday.
I woke this morning still puffy but giving myself the post cry pep talk, “Well least your eyes are wicked green today” the one upside to a big cry. I was ready to take on the day and then the text that done me in
“They are changing the rules at work. No one can request time off and no one can leave the week of Christmas” Jeremy. Jeremy may not be home for Christmas this year. The first year in 21 that I may not get my most wanted thing, a hug from my baby Christmas morning.
I’d like to ask whomever is holding the voodoo doll in my likeness to ease the hell up already. I am breathing a heavy sigh as I get ready to leave for work this morning, placing all the hope I can muster in the basket of selling wine. A great day at the shop I love, selling wine to people that adore it as much as I do….least I still have that. Sheesh…..
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