HANNAH #19

Winding Down

If only they would let me do my sudoku in peace

Note: This Hannah piece is dedicated to one terrific puzzler friend Mitchell Allen

We had experienced an emotionally exhausting few days. With everyone sharing their end-of-summer wishes and then writing about their newly discovered powers, I was plum tuckered out. “That’s good,” I thought to myself. “Now you can just relax. The clock is not your master.”

And just as I was sitting on the sofa with a sudoku puzzle in hand and eating my toast, my dad pops in to talk.

Dad: Hannah, last night was really special. It has me thinking about what we do next.

Me: (no response)

Dad: Are you tired? Thinking? Or not hearing me?

Me: I’m just tired. I’m relaxing with a challenging sudoku puzzle while I eat my breakfast.

Dad: Do you need any help? I am actually pretty good when it comes to sudoku.

Me: Thanks, dad, but I think I’ve got this.

Dad: Of course… so before I head out to work, what do you and Ben have planned for today?

Me: Not sure. Right now, I think I’ll just take advantage of the quiet and relax.

At that, my dad smiled. He understood. As he headed out the door, he said,

“Ok, Hannah. You did that so nicely. I was bugging you. Have a good day. Enjoy some peace. See you later.”

I was back to enjoying my puzzle and soaking up the quiet while I ate my now-cold toast. I was happy because I was experiencing the moment and not thinking about other stuff. Then Ben came down. The moment was again broken.

It went like this:

Ben: Hannah, I woke up with a great idea.

Hannah: Ok, but I am not seeking ideas now. I am just seeking to finish my sudoku.

Ben: Sudoku? I love sudoku. Do you need any help? I am pretty good at it.

Hannah: Of course, you are. You are good at most things, and anyway, dad told me he was good at it, so it could even be genetic. But no, I don’t need any help, thank you.

Ben: If you change your mind, just let me know. I am not going anywhere — that is unless I can convince you of my great idea.

This had me curious. I almost laughed because Ben has this incredible way of tucking in his requests so that you barely know he’s asked you for the moon. Still, I was quiet.

Ben: You are always so curious. Don’t you want to know?

Me: Well, right now, I am enjoying my sudoku and maybe some quiet.

Ben: Ok, I will leave you alone, but first I will tell you my idea in case you are planning our day. You might want to add this to your list.

Me: I am not working off a list right now.

Ben: Well, maybe not a physical list, but I know there is a list in your head. It’s how you run. Anyway, my idea is that we go to the courts, and I give you some pointers on volleying. It will be very useful for our last match of the summer. Remember, we don’t want Lucy and dad to win.

At this point, I was more irritated than anything. “I always have a list in my head?” That’s just insulting, except that it’s also right. I do always have a plan for what I’d like my day to be. And because I didn’t want Ben staring at me as he waited for an answer or potentially swooping in to take my sudoku and help me, I said, “Ben, after lunch, you can work with me on volleys.”

Ben was happy enough with that.

“Ok, Hannah, and I’ll make it fun. It might be hot, though, so you might consider moving our start-time up.”

And that was Ben — always selling, always trying to get his world to exactly how he thinks it should be. It would be funny if it weren’t so effective and routinely got in the way of my plans.

“Ok, Ben, you win. We will go at 11 and hit until lunchtime. Now please let me finish in peace.”

We were good.

It made me realize that to wind down, you actually need other people to respect your quiet. I felt like wearing a sign that said “library” so that people got the hint to keep quiet around me.

The day turned out fine. I finished my puzzle, Ben and I worked on my volleys, I got to write in my journal and email Alfred, and I spent the evening with my dad playing a game of chess.

Before this summer, I had no idea that my dad had chess skills, but he does. When we finished, he said that he had another great idea.

Me: Dad, I think I’m “idea’d out.”.

Dad: Sure, honey, even though it’s not like you. You must be tired.

Me: I am, and also, I’m trying to learn to relax more. But what’s your idea? You’ve got me curious, and maybe we can slip it in. There are ten days left before Ben and I head home.

Dad: I want to have a “Finance” night where I explain dividends, the stock market, and what it means to have a balanced portfolio.

This didn’t feel great to me, but I counted to five and then responded:

“Dad, it sounds like a great idea. I will say “yes” for a later date which may or may not be this summer.”

I hoped I sounded sincere.

Dad came over and gave me a big hug. He’s a great hugger.

“Hannah, there’s no rush. I can tell you’re tired. Go get a good night’s sleep. The world will look different to you in the morning. You might even come find me and say, ‘Explain dividends.’”

To bed, I went. Winding down, apparently, is harder than it seems. Just as my eyes were closing, I get this text from Lucy.

“Hannah, I get off early tomorrow. Can I come over and show you how I make my brownies? There are a few tricks you might find useful.” Xoxo

This is part of a series, “Hannah’s Journey to be Happy.” The last piece is listed below: