Labor Day

I have to get ready to move onto my boat for real. Given all that remained to be done, and given how unsuited I am to do much of it, I had a Labor Party last Saturday.

It turned out to be a very extreme sort of day for me. I’ve been accused of being “just like a man” at times (which always makes me look down and laugh), and one of the ways this can be true is that, sometimes, I go away and do things in order to process emotionally-loaded events. Rather than talking them to death, which is what most women do. There is considerable satisfaction in surveying the word-battered corpse of something that bugged you a little while ago, but sometimes I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to get out of the way and let my brain do the sorting, and notify me when it has something to say.

So I have spent the week letting my brain sort the emotional crapola. Now I’m ready to talk about what happened.

Down:
It was one of the most painful days in recent memory. I spent most of the morning in the sort of agony that would have had me doubled up and screaming, 7 years ago. Now I just keep going, as long as I can draw a full breath. ...Especially when I have work, people, and food to organize.

Up:
Carwile brought me lunch, which I had completely forgotten to provide for myself. Then, most of the people I counted on showed up. Some are comparative strangers, so I found this very touching.

Down:
Pain tends to fry my circuits. I had made a task list with lovely lucid prompts for my lovely lucid mind, but that mind was on holiday. I swear I had a hard time reading Arial 14-point font, let alone making sense of anything it said. And every time I was trying to work out one train of thought, someone interrupted (legitimately) needing my opinion on something else.

I simply could not think about more than one thing at a time. It was maddening.

Up:
Russell knocked off his first task in his usual capable manner, and said he was done. I said, “What about … “ (this other task)?

I had clearly left my manners in my other shirt.

He admitted (quietly) that he was in pain. After the life he has lived, it’s a miracle he’s in one piece.

I said, “OK, forget about that other thing. You’re done. Thank you!”

Then Andy sauntered up, cigar stub dangling, and started offering advice on how to do that task.

Picture this: 60-something lifelong sailor, boatbuilder, former paratrooper with 101st Airborne who survived active duty in wartime, trainer of champion racers … being lectured by a whippersnapping 32-year-old Coast Guard electronics geek, with a stubby sticking out of his face, on how to handle rigging.

Once I could pick up my jaw, I decided not to interfere. I fled belowdecks to check on the first aid kit and await the outcome.

When I came back up, both of them were working peacefully away on the task I had told Russell not to bother with.

… Men. I don't get 'em, but they sure can be good to have around.

Down:
The engine did not get touched. Damn damn damn. Also, I decided not to deal with the holding tank.

Up:
Amazing amounts of work got done. Carwile sawed everything I handed him, and Ed sanded it. Celeste, who is not a sailor and who drove 100 miles to come help, did every fiddling little task I didn’t want to ask the sailors to spend their time on. Regis pulled my head apart (okay, that sentence could be misread; handle it) and was Russell’s inside man on the tedious rigging work.

Down:
Dan and Allison kidnapped my god-damn party. Once the cleaning up was almost done, they decided cooking was too much work for me (cooking for my friends makes me feel better) and that their boat was larger and cushier anyway (thanks for rubbing that in) and next thing I knew, Russell and Regis had taken off and everyone else was headed off to the next pier.

Up:
Someone else had to do the dishes.

Down:
I cooked meat on Allison’s very vegetarian boat. Oops.

Up:
Andy mixed mojitos.

Very down:
Once a few guests were gone and Allison was asleep, the remaining men turned on internet porn flicks, and made animated comments on Heather’s name and technique.

I have never felt so … invisibled … by people I thought I knew. There was no point in saying goodbye, so I didn’t. I just left.

All in all:
An eventful day. Glad I did it; glad it's over. Very glad of the good people I know.