I spent a whole five minutes thinking up that title and I am damn proud of that.
Today, Kate drove me to my car after CAPS, and I started our conversation with, “now that I’m in my 30s, I’m suddenly feeling the need to micromanage everything.”
She made a sharp right turn and pumped the gas. “Join the club.”
I do think it’s true though. So far, I have caught myself micromanaging, or attempting to micromanage, four times this weekend. First, at Friday’s initiation ceremony. I arrived right on time, but still couldn’t resist asking if everyone knew what to do and how to do it and cell phones off everyone. Yesterday, it happened twice: in the morning, while I was selling at the Christmas market, and at night, at Salsa Saturday. I’m so sick of people wandering in and not dancing, so I gestured to everyone with whom I made eye contact and directed them to a spot on the floor. At the same time, I was running in and out of the room, holding doors for band members and telling them to go around the back entrance so as to not cut through the dance floor, before asking the band like five times if they were ready. And today at CAPS, I actually tried very hard and don’t think I micromanaged a thing, even if I did possibly nod off for a few seconds there.
I just reheated some tomato soup for the third time, and it might have gotten cold again, so excuse me please.