Only So Much
Relearned yet again that I only have so much tolerance and energy for other people, parties and crowds.
The day started well. Our main man we turn to for building projects showed up early and gave us an estimate for installing a garage, a bricked patio and a hot tub. We've decided to brick or tile in the area between the kitchen windows and the pool, have a 6 person hot tub custom built right below the windows and put a couple of teak loungers on the rest of the patio instead of the rectangle of grass there now. Landscaper stops by and we point out trees that need to come down, which need serious trimming and bushes we need. Another estimate. We spend more time in the pool and on the covered patio than in the house. Makes sense to tart it up a bit more. Outside is where it's at.
Jim's weird sleeping patterns caused him to nap much of the afternoon while I was in the pool and later reading in the hammock out front. But in the late afternoon I had one of those horrible episodes that belongs in a gross out comedy involving bodily functions too off putting to discuss. Much cleaning ensued and I felt, quite frankly, very crappy afterward.
Which wasn't such a good thing. We were due at a combination fundraiser and welcome dinner being held at Bula-Bula in Playa Grande for a new private school opening. A school opened and run by some of our friends here who moved to the area the same time we did. We all met our first week in town.
As someone with seriously introverted tendencies I'm only good for a short stretch of time being 'social'. Jim is a raving extrovert and could happily stay all night. Add in feeling not my greatest and my time tolerance for a large cast of others drops proportionately.
We arrive, and see a pile of folks we know, like Maggie and son and others from the church and the community. Immediately after arriving I find out that the fruit/water being served at this party all contain copious amounts of cantaloupe, something I am very allergic to, so I have to belly up to the bar and figure out something to drink. I can't do their sweet tea because of the sugar, and their lemonade is out because fresh lemon is a lesser allergy for me, making my throat and the inside of my ears itch.
Got the drinks issue sorted by buying an icy bottle of Coca Ligero (diet coke) which I am not allergic to, one of the few things on the drinks menu I can have before I'm confronted by someone's very hairy dog. The wheezing starts. Down the damn drugs and move far, far away from the cute doggie.
Talk to a few people and feel my reserve of energy for dealing with others slipping with my breathing and others colognes, so we slip away to sit in the shade, in the rattan chairs around the pool. There are tons of kids in the pool and that's not a problem. What is a problem is that the bigger boys, 12 to 15, are playing with a football, making a game of throwing the ball as hard as possible across the pool to each other. The first time I'm hit by the ball I'm startled, but smile sweetly at the boys as they apologize.
But it happens again, and again. I ask them nicely to scooch on over about ten feet. They say they will, but they don't. The fifth time the ball hits me it lands right on my burned torso. I jump up, and beat a hasty retreat to the restroom to make sure I'm not oozing blood while trying not to shriek in pain. On my way I have a lady I have met exactly twice tries to stop me, greeting me and I shoot on past her wtihout acknowledging her, clutching one hand over my burn and the other one over my mouth because now I feel like I have to throw up, something that happens with the asthma.
Once I shed a few tears and take wound stock I emerge and that lady is there again. Asks me how I'm doing. I tell her I'm not doing very well, and slide on past her without responding to her other questions. Like I said I've met her twice in the last year, so it's not like we're friends. I have lost all ability to be 'nice' by this point. Puking and pain tend to kill nice.
I walk off, walking around the grounds of Bula-Bula and huddle with thei hotel's cat for about thirty minutes, petting it while sitting on the steps of the hotel. The boys come apologize again for the football mishaps and I tell them I'm not hurt. They are kids, they clearly did not mean to do it. I stay outside now because of all this and the fact that the people wearing heavy cologne are causing me to wheeze. Best to totally remove myself. I came back once dinner was served and everyone seated. Pick at my food, stare at my plate, still sick, interacting with no one now, just counting the minutes until we can gracefully leave.
Jim sees that I'm not well at all and suggests an after dinner walk. We start the walk out of the restaurant and the SAME DAMN WOMAN tries to talk to me. I nod and walk on by. Jim stops and talks to her and she goes off on him, wanting to know why I hate her.
Ugh! It's not about her. I'm sick, and I'm just trying to endure a social obligation enough to slip away asap! I don't hate her. But I don't know her!
I felt better once we got down to the boat landing on the estuary where I didn't have to deal with anyone else, and I could breath deeply without allergens making me wheeze. Immediately after the walk we made our excuses and left as the meds weren't helping at all. After interacting and talking to about thirty people I was just out of social energy.
Pictures of the estuary park at Las Baulas National Marine Park.
I have to start doing a better job of balancing my needs with the expectations of others as long as I have this lung crud making me pretty miserable. It's so hard to figure out how to do that.
The day started well. Our main man we turn to for building projects showed up early and gave us an estimate for installing a garage, a bricked patio and a hot tub. We've decided to brick or tile in the area between the kitchen windows and the pool, have a 6 person hot tub custom built right below the windows and put a couple of teak loungers on the rest of the patio instead of the rectangle of grass there now. Landscaper stops by and we point out trees that need to come down, which need serious trimming and bushes we need. Another estimate. We spend more time in the pool and on the covered patio than in the house. Makes sense to tart it up a bit more. Outside is where it's at.
Jim's weird sleeping patterns caused him to nap much of the afternoon while I was in the pool and later reading in the hammock out front. But in the late afternoon I had one of those horrible episodes that belongs in a gross out comedy involving bodily functions too off putting to discuss. Much cleaning ensued and I felt, quite frankly, very crappy afterward.
Which wasn't such a good thing. We were due at a combination fundraiser and welcome dinner being held at Bula-Bula in Playa Grande for a new private school opening. A school opened and run by some of our friends here who moved to the area the same time we did. We all met our first week in town.
As someone with seriously introverted tendencies I'm only good for a short stretch of time being 'social'. Jim is a raving extrovert and could happily stay all night. Add in feeling not my greatest and my time tolerance for a large cast of others drops proportionately.
We arrive, and see a pile of folks we know, like Maggie and son and others from the church and the community. Immediately after arriving I find out that the fruit/water being served at this party all contain copious amounts of cantaloupe, something I am very allergic to, so I have to belly up to the bar and figure out something to drink. I can't do their sweet tea because of the sugar, and their lemonade is out because fresh lemon is a lesser allergy for me, making my throat and the inside of my ears itch.
Got the drinks issue sorted by buying an icy bottle of Coca Ligero (diet coke) which I am not allergic to, one of the few things on the drinks menu I can have before I'm confronted by someone's very hairy dog. The wheezing starts. Down the damn drugs and move far, far away from the cute doggie.
Talk to a few people and feel my reserve of energy for dealing with others slipping with my breathing and others colognes, so we slip away to sit in the shade, in the rattan chairs around the pool. There are tons of kids in the pool and that's not a problem. What is a problem is that the bigger boys, 12 to 15, are playing with a football, making a game of throwing the ball as hard as possible across the pool to each other. The first time I'm hit by the ball I'm startled, but smile sweetly at the boys as they apologize.
But it happens again, and again. I ask them nicely to scooch on over about ten feet. They say they will, but they don't. The fifth time the ball hits me it lands right on my burned torso. I jump up, and beat a hasty retreat to the restroom to make sure I'm not oozing blood while trying not to shriek in pain. On my way I have a lady I have met exactly twice tries to stop me, greeting me and I shoot on past her wtihout acknowledging her, clutching one hand over my burn and the other one over my mouth because now I feel like I have to throw up, something that happens with the asthma.
Once I shed a few tears and take wound stock I emerge and that lady is there again. Asks me how I'm doing. I tell her I'm not doing very well, and slide on past her without responding to her other questions. Like I said I've met her twice in the last year, so it's not like we're friends. I have lost all ability to be 'nice' by this point. Puking and pain tend to kill nice.
I walk off, walking around the grounds of Bula-Bula and huddle with thei hotel's cat for about thirty minutes, petting it while sitting on the steps of the hotel. The boys come apologize again for the football mishaps and I tell them I'm not hurt. They are kids, they clearly did not mean to do it. I stay outside now because of all this and the fact that the people wearing heavy cologne are causing me to wheeze. Best to totally remove myself. I came back once dinner was served and everyone seated. Pick at my food, stare at my plate, still sick, interacting with no one now, just counting the minutes until we can gracefully leave.
Jim sees that I'm not well at all and suggests an after dinner walk. We start the walk out of the restaurant and the SAME DAMN WOMAN tries to talk to me. I nod and walk on by. Jim stops and talks to her and she goes off on him, wanting to know why I hate her.
Ugh! It's not about her. I'm sick, and I'm just trying to endure a social obligation enough to slip away asap! I don't hate her. But I don't know her!
I felt better once we got down to the boat landing on the estuary where I didn't have to deal with anyone else, and I could breath deeply without allergens making me wheeze. Immediately after the walk we made our excuses and left as the meds weren't helping at all. After interacting and talking to about thirty people I was just out of social energy.
Pictures of the estuary park at Las Baulas National Marine Park.
I have to start doing a better job of balancing my needs with the expectations of others as long as I have this lung crud making me pretty miserable. It's so hard to figure out how to do that.
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