I survived my crazy month of September.
We had my husband's 60th birthday/mock luau/happy hour/cocktail/backyard/ housewarming party on Saturday night.
Trying to plan this party was a bit of a nightmare. He wanted to have a birthday/housewarming party, but he wanted the focus to be on the housewarming.
Until he saw the invitation and it did NOT say “60th” birthday party on it. I said, “You are already sensitive about turning 60, why would you want to broadcast it?" He said, “Well, otherwise why would be having a birthday party if it wasn’t a big one?”
So I re-did the invitations. Then he didn’t like that the invitations had margaritas on them (his favorite drink and the signature cocktails we were planning to serve). He wanted it to be more Hawaiian-themed, because we have just moved back to the Islands.
But, he also didn’t like that I used Evites. I explained that having to address 75 envelopes, and collect all those mailing addresses, was too onerous after having just moved, still remodeling and people needed to get the invitations at least three weeks in advance.
In addition to starting my new career, my daughter starting at a new school, moving, unpacking, finishing a remodel, having houseguests, my daughter's 12th birthday party earlier this month, I did not have the energy to cook for 75 people and function as a bartender. So I hired a caterer.
In the end, it was a glorious party and he loved every minute of it. The house looked beautiful. The backyard was decorated with strings of white lights and tiki torches. The caterer was awesome and did everything from set up to clean up.
The "hangover" was the laundry and the dishes. Not so much from the party, as the caterers cleaned up everything, but the day after was eight people for breakfast, six people for lunch and two guest rooms of sheets, towels and another week's worth of family laundry. "Cinderella" went back to work.
If it wasn't enough to do the nine-day whirlwind business trip, and plan the weekend extravaganza, I felt the need to pile on and volunteer for my daughter's school Field Day. I was in charge of musical chairs. Oddly, when I was a kid, I was outstanding at this particular party game. Little did I know that it would become a metaphor for the longevity in my chosen career path.
I was also in charge of the hula hoop relay. I had forgotten that I had not hula hoop-ed since I was in elementary school, and that this might be a problem teaching the kids how to do it. I put on my plastic-circle-of-humiliation and started swinging my hips like a middle-aged epileptic.
Things did not go well and I feared that maybe I should not have volunteered for this committee. Then, the music started playing for musical chairs and, all of a sudden, I had lift off. The hula hoop stayed up as long as the music was playing. When the music stopped, the hoop seemed to invariably fall to my feet. So for all the kids who said, "I can't hula hoop," I found myself saying, "Just listen to the music and swing your hips back and forth." Before I knew it, everyone was hula hooping. It occurred to me that this was a great metaphor: you need the music to find the inspiration.
So this morning, when I rolled out of bed, stiff, sore and exhausted from days of schlepping cases of water, beer and wine, moving patio furniture, laundry, trash bags, bending over to pick up cake plates that had blown under the deck, hula hooping, waking up in a cold sweat for two nights thinking that I was not ready for houseguests and a party for 75 people... I could not fathom facing my computer and that I needed to go back to work.
And then I learned that all four networks had PASSED on the pitch that I brought in last week.
I felt sucker punched. I was sure that one of them would buy it. What if I never sell anything?
I used to wake up to a minimum of 50 or more important emails every morning. 200 by the end of the day.
Now I am waking up to emails from Astrology.com, which I find myself reading VERY carefully.
Also, Macys.com sends me a daily email. (Surprisingly, they are having another sale!)
Where are the urgent emails begging for my creative input or congratulations on another Emmy nomination?
Oh wait, that was my life as an executive. I am now a producer and currently with nothing to produce. Now what?
Then I remembered my hula hoop relay. I just need to turn on some music. So I called my assistant and she said, "Let's get back to work. We have stuff to do." But "Nooooo," I groaned. "I am tired and I am out of ideas. No one bought anything. What's the point?" But somehow we started talking and that turned the "music" back on and I started feeling the creative juices flowing again.