I’ve been a fidgety mess for days, and it’s David Sedaris’s fault. Well, it’s not really his fault. It’s also the YWCA’s fault.
Last week my good friend and mentor Lisa invited me to go see David Sedaris with her at our local Barnes & Noble tomorrow night, and I have been worrying about it ever since. The talk/signing starts at 7, and I’ve been positively jittery at the thought of arriving too late to get a good spot, which will then result in getting an even worse spot in line for the book signing, which will then result in me missing my chance to meet an iconic contemporary essayist, which will then result in my complete and utter failure as a writer since I won’t have David Sedaris’s inked signature from which to draw inspiration and writerly mojo.
I also joined our city's new YWCA facility (which is awesome), which presents a whole new set of issues to concern me. First, do I have to call ahead to attend classes? And if it's a yoga class, do I have to bring my own mat? Am I a bad mother for taking Ethan to the nursery while I take part in various sporty activities? What is an "x bike"?
Most of these concerns could be addressed by asking some friendly worker at the counter, of course. But that reality does nothing to quell my irrationality. I think it has something to do with being in close proximity of locker rooms.
In other news, Ethan said his first two-word combo this weekend: hot dog. Or rather, "ott daw." I also believe he's been body-snatched by some alien lifeform whose most marked qualities are sarcasm and aloofness.
My suspicions were piqued after he fake laughed a number of times, an activity that includes opening the mouth wide, sticking out the lower jaw, and with little to no mirth expelling a loud "AH HAW!" Obviously this has done nothing to aid my current paranoid and insecure state of mind.
Elsewhere, I've been invited by Dan to blog on the Hadrian's Walk site. So I did. Go check it out.