Namaste
August, 2000
“This has to end.”
“You think?”
I look up from my downward dog pose just long enough to flash
Slutty Co-worker a dirty look before I transition into pigeon pose.
“I can’t believe they’re paying you over a hundred fifty grand a year and you sit in your office and do this all day.”
Looking up at her like I could give two shits, I ask, “How much longer do you think I can get away with it?”
“Word on the street is you have about a month to clear all of this medical shit outta here, change your attitude, and get back to work.”
“So then…I guess I have a month to figure out what I want to do with my life.”
“Not many places you can go and make the kinda money you make here, my love.”
“It’s not about the money anymore. I, we…we only get one life. Screw the money.”
“That attitude of yours isn’t gonna pay the bills. But here’s an idea, when you get fired, I’ll set you up with some of those old farts I used to date. Theyyyyyyy gave me a lot of money! Wow, where did you learn that pose?”
“From my lady at the Yoga Shack.”
“How much time do you have left with her before the place closes down?”
My eyes focus on a picture of my three best friends and me on my desk.
“I’m sorry, hunny, I didn’t mean for your mind to go there.”
“It always goes there. Anyway, the studio closes next month. She can’t find anyone to buy…”
All of a sudden, I hop up from the ground and grab Slutty Co-worker’s shoulders.
“Oh my God, I can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner!”
“You’re freaking me out, hunny! Tell me what that pretty little head of yours is thinking.”
“I’m a good business woman, right?”
“Well, you used to be.”
“And I love yoga, right?”
“That seems to be all you love these days. Certainly haven’t seen any men in your life…What a waste of a good body.”
“And with the sale of my house, I have more money than I know what to do with… Oh my God! This is it! How could I have not seen this before?”
“Seen what!?”
“Here are my car keys. Start taking my pictures off the wall and put them in my car!”
“Chrissy Anderson, what are you about to do?”
“And do it fast! I’m probably only gonna have a few minutes to clean up five years of crap after I tell that pervert boss of ours what I’m about to tell him. He’s gonna go ballistic.”
And that was an understatement. When I quit my job, my boss literally chased me all the way down the hallway back to my office, yelling at me the entire time.”
“This is the thanks I get for letting you sit in your office day after day crying over death and divorce?! You haven’t done one thing in the last six months to contribute to the success of this company! I should’ve fired you a long time ago!”
I mentally block out the immense amount of profanity flying out of his mouth as I flip through client files that once meant the world to me. I hardly noticed the pounding of his fists on my desk as I delete emails that used to be as vital to me as the bible is to others. And I barely notice the sudden softening of his voice as I strip the keys to my office from the key chain that Slutty Co-worker just handed back to me.
“Okay, okay, okay! Hold on a minute! I overreacted and I apologize for that. It’s just that I thought I was doing the right thing by giving you time to figure all your shit out. And now I’m just a little upset that this is how you’re repaying me. We can work this out, can’t we? Jesus, we’re in the middle of a major factory change in Hong Kong! Who’s gonna be able to pick up the pieces of that mess?! C’mon, Chrissy…you don’t want to be a quitter do you?”
My homicidal eyes roll up from my key chain and glare at Slutty co-worker. Like a scared child, her head drops down into her hands anticipating the wrath of me being called the Q word.
“No, pervert, you’re upset because I’m the only one here who refuses to sleep with you, and now that I’m leaving, you’ll never get the chance! Here’s some advice boss, instead of cheating on your wife and using sex as a stress reliever, why don’t you drop into my new yoga studio sometime. Try working out your frustrations that way! Oh, and as is the case with your adultery, quitting isn’t ALWAYS a bad thing!”
As I exit the office that I spent the greater part of my adult life building, I can hear the entire production department simultaneously ask each other, “Did you sleep with him too!?” He’s so busted.
“Chrissy, wait for me!”
I whirl around to find Slutty Co-worker jogging after me with one teeny tiny dead plant in her hand.
“Hey, doll, you’re a great business woman with a lot of cash and all, but don’t you think you’re forgetting something?”
“What’s that?”
“You’re gonna need a great yoga instructor if you really want to make that place fly.”
“Are you serious?! You wanna come with me?”
“The only reason I stayed here this long was to take care of you.”
Pointing at her hands and laughing, “After all these years, is that really all you have to take from this place?”
“Well…you already left.”
Then in the middle of our hug we hear, “Wait for me, guys!”
“Megan, what the hell are you doing?”
“I have a great idea for a yoga clothing line! What do you say, Chrissy, will you give me a shot? Please!?!?”
“Who am I, Jerry Ma-f*cking-guire?”
“No, he asked people to go with him. We’re asking you to take us with you.”
And off we went. The three of us piled into Slutty Co-worker’s convertible and left the security of our cushy jobs at the big successful clothing company and high-tailed over to the Yoga Shack to make the owner an offer she was relieved to get. I was so excited about my new adventure that I forgot all about death and lost loves and, for the second year in a row, I forgot it was my birthday.
For the next sixty days our little motley crew painted walls, refinished hardwood floors, installed a new bathroom, and launched an aggressive marketing campaign to rebrand the Yoga Shack and turn it into the ever so hip Forever Young Yoga Studio, which was accompanied by the ever so sassy Forever Young Yogawear collection. We worked non-stop to make our grand opening a huge success and, on October 2nd, we opened our doors, and immediately a waiting list ensued. We have more customers than we have space for and talks are already under way to open a second studio in Moraga. Asked by a local newspaper reporter why I chose Moraga, I answered, “I experienced a lot of love there.” The news was read by almost everyone I know, by my pissed-off former boss, by my incredulous soon to be ex-husband, even by Leo’s mother.
Normally I would obsess about wanting Leo to know where I am and what I’m doing. There was a time when I would check my email and voicemail fifty times a day hoping to have a message from him. But I never heard back from him after I replied to his email in March. And it makes sense that I didn’t. He never got the email. Unbeknownst to me, the vintage cable connection at my cottage timed out before it was successfully sent and instead of checking on it, my attention turned to Nicole and Courtney when they arrived at my apartment to tell me about Kelly’s cancer. Leo thinks I ignored his original email because my “situation” prevented me from doing so, and he has since made a determined decision to get on with his life.
And normally, I would want Kurt to catch wind of what a badass yoga studio owner I am. In his own words, he said he didn’t think I could survive without him, let alone quit my job, take employees with me, and start not only one, but TWO yoga studios. Normally, I would make damn sure I told every person we shared a relationship with about my successes so he’d find out, see me in a new light, and obsess about me for the rest of his life, ultimately landing him in much needed therapy.
And normally, I would’ve called my best friends to gloat about my success because I always felt like they had accomplished so much more than I had. In the past, I would seize any opportunity to show them I’m just as good as they are. I would’ve sent them a copy of the newspaper article and waited for their phone calls full of praise. I’d do anything to make them shower me with attention.
But something happened in the sweet chaos of starting my own business…of dreaming. Other than missing Leo, which is all I allow myself to do with him anymore, I stopped trying to mend my “package,” and I started the process of becoming whole. Wondering if people think I’m nuts for letting Kurt go has become a nonexistent thought. I’m simply too busy to care what irrelevant people think about me. And hoping that Kurt seeks therapy is now more laughable than it is necessary. Wondering if Courtney remembered to send Nicole a birthday present only lasted for a second, and I stopped trying to find the cure for pancreatic cancer. I haven’t stopped caring about the people that I love, but I have stopped trying to make them love me, and I’ve stopped trying to fix things I have no business fixing. The choice to call me, to need me, to love me, is theirs and I’ve never felt better. Almost. But, I bet Leo and I wouldn’t even work out now that I’m just plain old me.
“Well… you’ll never know, will you, hunny?”
“Oh, stop egging me on, Dr. Maria. He didn’t even email me back last March. I’m sure as heck not gonna chase someone down who ignores my email. In my opinion, that would make me so much worse than anything I was in the past.”
“How are you handling the fact that he didn’t email you back?”
“It hurts bad, but I feel like it’s only fair considering how many times I rejected him. But I miss him. I miss him a lot.”
“Tell me about Kurt.”
“Nothing to tell, really. The divorce is under way, and I haven’t heard from him since I opened the studio.”
“Oh yes! The studio! Congratulations on that, hunny! Boy, when I told you to dream up a mess of something good, I had no idea you would go to such extremes.”
“Just following my heart.”
“Keep listening to it. It’ll take you where you need to go. And Kelly? How’s she doing?”
“I only stop by once a week now. Craig comes out to give me an update. It’s usually pretty dismal. I give him a letter for her and I leave. I don’t walk the baby anymore; I don’t plant flowers…It’s not that I don’t want to do those things, but I don’t think those things made her happy.” As my voice trails off, “I think doing them only reminded her of what she couldn’t do for herself anymore.”
“Are you okay, hunny?”
“I’m doing okay, Dr. Maria. Despite it all, I’m doing okay. Tell me, how’s that woman doing? You know, the one whose family died in the Loma Prieta earthquake?”
“As long as she keeps coming here, she has a chance.”
“Looks like she’s hanging in there, she’s always in the lobby whenever I’m here.”
“Yep, definitely have to give her credit for sticking with it.”
Dr. Maria realized her slip-up the second she made it and rolls her wide eyes up at me over the rim of her glasses.
“Wow, you’re one clever woman, Chrissy Anderson. I could get in a lot of trouble for exposing her identity.”
Laughing hard, “Considering how many secrets you have on me, it’s only fair I should have one on you!”
Throwing pillows from the couch at me, she says, “I take that back…you’re not clever, you’re manipulative!”
“I know. It’s about time I start getting credit for it!”