I was in San Francisco this week for a training, and flew back yesterday. Training was good in parts, and not so good in other parts.
Call me psycho but...I was at the training with a colleague who blew off most of the conference - he treated it as his vacation in San Fran - which annoyed me. If the university is going to pay $2000 to send someone for professional development - you don't just blow it off. And he dressed like a bum. I chastised him about his attire and he called me the fashion police and told me to mind my own business. My irritation with him I guess is a break from worrying about all my other sh*t.
San Francisco is a beautiful city and it reminded me a lot of Sydney, AU. It was a good break from my regular routine but I felt terrible leaving the dogs. They seem to have survived.
While I was in SF I visited a good friend of mine who moved out there 7 years ago and now has a wonderful life and lifestyle, big condo in pacific heights and a weekend beach house. I told her my whole menopause saga - she got it and really empathized for me. The kicker is that she is 52 and can't believe that she hasn't even started menopause.
She talked about the qualitative difference of life in your 50s - things start to feel more finite and you need to decide what things you really want to do and do them before it's too late. She was very supportive of the baby thing. She and her girlfriend considered it but she said when it came down to it, they decided they would rather have a beach house (she knows this sounds awful but it is the truth).
On Monday I am taking the day off from work so that I can meet with the dog behaviorist. She is making a house call to assess the dynamic between the two boy dogs and why they fight and hurt each other (well there is really only one aggressor but they both have a role). I had to fill out nearly 30 pages of forms and send her all of their medical records. It should be interesting. I know it is going to be expensive - but it is less than the $1000 in medical bills for baby boy's eye injury (or future potential injuries).
The prednisone roller coaster is finally over. I was on a very high dose which my therapist said was probably the reason it was doing such a number on me. I was convinced mid-week that I am in a crisis - personal and professional, but things seem to have evened out considerably.