After getting up this morning I was immediately engulfed in a dark cloud of worry. I did not know exactly what I should be worried about, it was a worry that I had carried over through the night from the day before and I didn’t remember exactly what it was, I only remembered that before falling asleep, inspired by Scarlett’s famous words I had said to myself “I’ll worry about it to-morrow!”
And now to-morrow had arrived. I sat down quietly after breakfast trying to figure out what I should worry about. And it came to me. In fact I faced two separate reasons for worry...
My first worry which finally emerged was my concern that I couldn’t think of anything to write about this week. So what? So I won’t write, what’s the big deal? Then I thought of the repercussions.
The phone calls which would arrive from people asking about my health, one phone call which was sure to come from a writing rival who would say full of joy:
“So you have finally dried up!” and then the e-mail which I had to expect from a Canadian friend who will write as he does usually:
“What’s up? I want my Monday morning ‘Geschichte!’”
So…nothing to do, no time out for me, I’ll have to think of something!!
After deciding that I will have to handle this one somehow, I arrived to worry number 2.
Nizza, our entertainment director, was off for a week’s vacation and she left me in charge of the whole caboodle (is this the right word? I am not sure!)
Her instructions were many and manifold:
“Of course you will have to be down there sometime early. Check that tall people sit in the back, the shorter ones, and the ones which have hearing and eye problems, should sit in front. Don’t hesitate to make a fuss if they don’t do what you tell them! Check that cell phones are switched off, and check that there is water on the table for the performers. Also check the microphones…no, on second thought don’t, you may break something, better ask the man on duty to check them! If a lecturer or musician doesn’t appear on time, make sure you have a replacement if needed. I have some discs of Andre Rieu which I keep for such emergencies and if people complain that they’ve had enough of Andre Rieu, just say if they don’t like it, they are free to leave…now the musician who is supposed to come next week…I am not very friendly with him, and he may not arrive, just in order to spite me. Call him and tell him that you don’t like me either, this will make sure that he’ll come running!
"If you hear some noise coming through from the people who cook in the kitchen, go in there and give them hell. They are supposed to postpone their cooking for one hour at least!
"Do you have the list of names and telephone numbers? Your head is a bit in the clouds lately!" (Dear Nizza, my head is in the clouds always! Since I was a baby in fact! You should know this by now!)
And then, she continues, "I do hope you are through with your bronchitis, and don’t you dare get something else! You feel all right, don’t you?”
Of course I feel all right. God wouldn’t dare to give me health problems while Nizza is away, but I am allowed to get them all as soon as she is back. And not even then, because although I will no longer be her replacement, I will still remain her devoted assistant.
I wrote down all her instructions in shorthand which may not be as fast as it used to be, but is still workable when needed.
So now it is up to me to live up to expectations, which I don’t always.
I sit here and continue to think of my ability of coping and solving my problems, because no matter how insurmountable they seem I manage in the end after a bit of nail biting. Figuratively that is, I haven’t been biting my nails for 60 years or so.