Or so it would seem, in my life.
I noticed, when I was home from throwing myself down the stairs, that most things take about 15 minutes. Switching laundry loads? yes. Emptying the dishwasher? yes. Showering? yes. Walking to the mailbox? yes. Writing this post? yes.
I think I started to notice this when I was on bed rest and had limited time to be "up." Everything seems to happen in fifteen minutes time. There's even the Warhol quote of everyone has fifteen minutes of fame. (Why, yes, I've had that as well.)
Now that I'm home again on "vacation", I have noticed that again fifteen minute increments keep cropping up. Fifteen minutes to apply for a job online, fifteen minutes to water a section of the yard. Fifteen minutes to aimlessly flip through a magazine. Fifteen minutes to watch a half-hour sitcom on the dvr.
(Or to go really deep: 15 minutes to race the car one pass, from the staging lanes to packing the chutes on the return road)
They say if you're an addict or going through a particular period of time to focus not on the whole day or the whole task but to break it down into smaller increments. I guess I've found that to be true in my life. But then, I'm one of those weird folks that find patterns in every thing. Fifteen minutes at at a time.
31 July 2014
29 July 2014
Just Be Happy
It's been two weeks since I stopped working. It still feels weird. I can't figure it out.
I don't know if it's because my job didn't seem finished and there's a small chance I'll be called back or what is going on. I feel relieved that the mess that is my former work is no longer in my life but I do miss my friends.
I don't feel super anxious about finding another job, which seems weird to me as well. I don't know if it's age or what but I'm all "Meh, whatever" about a new job. I've been open to applying just to see what happens to different kinds of jobs. I have never gotten my hopes up for a job because I hate that kind of disappointment (like everyone else enjoys it, really)
Like I did when I was home before, I'm keeping myself on sort of a schedule. Kevin still leaves for work at OhGawd-thirty so that doesn't change. I make sure I'm showered, dressed, and chores done by 9:00 so that I don't develop bad habits that need undoing when I do return to work.
But that also leaves a huge gap of empty space in my day. I've filled it with Greys Anatomy and books and small projects. But the shiny novelty of this is going to wear off pretty quickly. (also, Dance Moms marathon..really? Talk about disappointment. lol) And I'm eventually going to run out of projects.
The puppy does keep me a little distracted as she's still a puppy and loves, loves, loves chasing rabbits, birds, shrews, etc. So, I have to check on her regularly so she's not in Texas before we realize it. I figured out that if I put her bed out on the deck and leave the screen door open, she sticks around a little more.
I guess what I'm saying is that I'm remarkably relaxed about this and that is making me anxious. How messed up is that? Kevin's not stressed at all, he's always happy when I'm home. The puppy is happy I'm home. I'm happy that I'm home but I know I need to return to work to achieve our goals.
And I totally acknowledge that I've little to complain about when others face much bigger challenges. I'm just surprised at how not worried about things I am. I'm just going to work on being happy about what my life is right now. Like the puppy is.
I don't know if it's because my job didn't seem finished and there's a small chance I'll be called back or what is going on. I feel relieved that the mess that is my former work is no longer in my life but I do miss my friends.
I don't feel super anxious about finding another job, which seems weird to me as well. I don't know if it's age or what but I'm all "Meh, whatever" about a new job. I've been open to applying just to see what happens to different kinds of jobs. I have never gotten my hopes up for a job because I hate that kind of disappointment (like everyone else enjoys it, really)
Like I did when I was home before, I'm keeping myself on sort of a schedule. Kevin still leaves for work at OhGawd-thirty so that doesn't change. I make sure I'm showered, dressed, and chores done by 9:00 so that I don't develop bad habits that need undoing when I do return to work.
But that also leaves a huge gap of empty space in my day. I've filled it with Greys Anatomy and books and small projects. But the shiny novelty of this is going to wear off pretty quickly. (also, Dance Moms marathon..really? Talk about disappointment. lol) And I'm eventually going to run out of projects.
The puppy does keep me a little distracted as she's still a puppy and loves, loves, loves chasing rabbits, birds, shrews, etc. So, I have to check on her regularly so she's not in Texas before we realize it. I figured out that if I put her bed out on the deck and leave the screen door open, she sticks around a little more.
 |
| It's a dogs life, really |
And I totally acknowledge that I've little to complain about when others face much bigger challenges. I'm just surprised at how not worried about things I am. I'm just going to work on being happy about what my life is right now. Like the puppy is.
23 July 2014
The Future is Wide Open
I'm trying to embrace the Who Do You Want to Be When You Grow Up question. I'm trying to embrace this new job situation in a positive light. The last time I was unemployed was brutal; it was unexpected and on the heels of Kevin's diagnosis and our new house. This time things are a little more mellow.
When I was child I wanted to be a teacher or a librarian. I've done the teacher thing so I can check that off of my list. Librarian takes a degree and seems to be a job that doesn't become available very often.
Then I was thinking about what else would be a job that could encompass these two interests. Retail is not a choice for me as it's shift work, requires a lot of time on your feet, and it's retail. (people, ugh) Also, bookstores are a dying breed anymore.
Early childhood is no longer a choice as the pay is abysmal, finishing my degree in this field doesn't make sense financially and the physical demand too high. Also, kind of over it as it is an extremely taxing profession. Maybe I can just volunteer to rock babies or something instead.
I have registered at all the local school districts so I'm hoping maybe something will come up in that field. It's kind of good timing as the school year starts next month.
I could become a para-educator, which is fancy term for teachers aide but it requires testing. You can tell me to stop being a baby about the test but MATH. When I took the pre-test years ago, the computer actually Kicked Me Off because of my horrible performance on the math section. The remedy for this is a Math for Boneheads class and frankly, I'd rather have dental surgery. So, this is going to require some thought and fortitude.
But then, I'm really good at my job. It seems silly to not stick with something that I'm really good at. But social services jobs are difficult to get into and now the job market is flooded with my former co-workers.
I was also thinking about just registering as a temp. Lots of flexibility, change, and can be lucrative if you prove yourself valuable. But I think I need consistency.
As you can see, I'm trying to keep an open mind and be adventuresome about this new situation.
So, pretend that suddenly your future is wide open. What would you do?
When I was child I wanted to be a teacher or a librarian. I've done the teacher thing so I can check that off of my list. Librarian takes a degree and seems to be a job that doesn't become available very often.
Then I was thinking about what else would be a job that could encompass these two interests. Retail is not a choice for me as it's shift work, requires a lot of time on your feet, and it's retail. (people, ugh) Also, bookstores are a dying breed anymore.
Early childhood is no longer a choice as the pay is abysmal, finishing my degree in this field doesn't make sense financially and the physical demand too high. Also, kind of over it as it is an extremely taxing profession. Maybe I can just volunteer to rock babies or something instead.
I have registered at all the local school districts so I'm hoping maybe something will come up in that field. It's kind of good timing as the school year starts next month.
I could become a para-educator, which is fancy term for teachers aide but it requires testing. You can tell me to stop being a baby about the test but MATH. When I took the pre-test years ago, the computer actually Kicked Me Off because of my horrible performance on the math section. The remedy for this is a Math for Boneheads class and frankly, I'd rather have dental surgery. So, this is going to require some thought and fortitude.
But then, I'm really good at my job. It seems silly to not stick with something that I'm really good at. But social services jobs are difficult to get into and now the job market is flooded with my former co-workers.
I was also thinking about just registering as a temp. Lots of flexibility, change, and can be lucrative if you prove yourself valuable. But I think I need consistency.
As you can see, I'm trying to keep an open mind and be adventuresome about this new situation.
So, pretend that suddenly your future is wide open. What would you do?
Vacation, All I Ever Wanted?
Guess who's unemployed!?!! *This Girl*
I was laid off last week. It wasn't totally unexpected and has turned out to be relieving. We were working in such stressful conditions so it was just a release of pent up emotions when we realized we were finally done. We were working in the unknown as the temporary bosses were not communicating with the admin staff. To boot, there was no budget, accounts seriously past due, and non-compliance with regulators. Each time we tried to address and fix the issues, we were told no. It's as if they're trying to burn the place down. So to be released from that hell-ish space was not that upsetting. I think I'm more sad about not seeing my co-workers and some of the clients than anything else.
It sounds like it might not all be a done deal but I'm not getting my hopes up about it. I won't work for the temporary bosses (the board still hasn't found a permanent replacement and is steadfastly ignoring that the temporary executive director is in way over her head) and would only return to work there if very specific needs were met.
I felt immediately compelled to get busy. I got all my paperwork in order: insurance, retirement, employment security, budget stuff. I registered on all the job sites and made lists. Then I sat on the couch and watched Greys Anatomy all afternoon, for three afternoons.
I did find myself decompressing more than I anticipated. I guess I knew I was wound up but I didn't know how much I was wound up. This week, while still keeping on a schedule, I have found myself just watching television, reading the interwebs, and reading. Kevin's been checking in a little more, which gave me a heads-up as well. I just didn't fully realize how the last nine months have worn me down.
So, I'm just going to play it by ear. I'm going to take some time to just (I hate to say the buzzword) breathe. I'm lucky that this has happened during the summer and concentrate that this will just be another opportunity to have an adventure.
I was laid off last week. It wasn't totally unexpected and has turned out to be relieving. We were working in such stressful conditions so it was just a release of pent up emotions when we realized we were finally done. We were working in the unknown as the temporary bosses were not communicating with the admin staff. To boot, there was no budget, accounts seriously past due, and non-compliance with regulators. Each time we tried to address and fix the issues, we were told no. It's as if they're trying to burn the place down. So to be released from that hell-ish space was not that upsetting. I think I'm more sad about not seeing my co-workers and some of the clients than anything else.
It sounds like it might not all be a done deal but I'm not getting my hopes up about it. I won't work for the temporary bosses (the board still hasn't found a permanent replacement and is steadfastly ignoring that the temporary executive director is in way over her head) and would only return to work there if very specific needs were met.
I felt immediately compelled to get busy. I got all my paperwork in order: insurance, retirement, employment security, budget stuff. I registered on all the job sites and made lists. Then I sat on the couch and watched Greys Anatomy all afternoon, for three afternoons.
I did find myself decompressing more than I anticipated. I guess I knew I was wound up but I didn't know how much I was wound up. This week, while still keeping on a schedule, I have found myself just watching television, reading the interwebs, and reading. Kevin's been checking in a little more, which gave me a heads-up as well. I just didn't fully realize how the last nine months have worn me down.
So, I'm just going to play it by ear. I'm going to take some time to just (I hate to say the buzzword) breathe. I'm lucky that this has happened during the summer and concentrate that this will just be another opportunity to have an adventure.
06 July 2014
Somebody Realign the Stars
It seems like many people have been having drama in their lives, like straight-up drama. Job issues, relationship issues, financial trouble. I'm sure if I consulted the stars and psychics, they would tell me that something was in retrograde or the moon was in the eleventeenth house or something. This is not helpful. Sh*t is going down, y'all.
My work has been SHAKESPEAREAN in its drama. I go to work every day expecting either that the doors are locked or that I will no longer have a job. I often pull in, and to quote the Interwebs, am disappointed that the building isn't on fire.
Friends have had health issues, one after and another. Relationships that are usually steady are unusually strained. What the EFF universe?
During a conversation, I mentioned that "they" say if something keeps occurring that it means we simply haven't learned the intended lesson yet. As in something is to be gained by these experiences and they will continue in varying forms until we "get it".
Can we just all remain stupid in this specific situation and move on? It's summer, we're supposed to be happy-go-lucky and be relaxed and carefree. Must all of learn these cosmic lessons at the same time? Can we just maybe take turns, or better yet just skip it altogether?
Until then I guess we just have to remain as zen as we can. Turn our faces to the sun and relax when we're able. Surely, this too shall pass.
My work has been SHAKESPEAREAN in its drama. I go to work every day expecting either that the doors are locked or that I will no longer have a job. I often pull in, and to quote the Interwebs, am disappointed that the building isn't on fire.
Friends have had health issues, one after and another. Relationships that are usually steady are unusually strained. What the EFF universe?
During a conversation, I mentioned that "they" say if something keeps occurring that it means we simply haven't learned the intended lesson yet. As in something is to be gained by these experiences and they will continue in varying forms until we "get it".
Can we just all remain stupid in this specific situation and move on? It's summer, we're supposed to be happy-go-lucky and be relaxed and carefree. Must all of learn these cosmic lessons at the same time? Can we just maybe take turns, or better yet just skip it altogether?
Until then I guess we just have to remain as zen as we can. Turn our faces to the sun and relax when we're able. Surely, this too shall pass.
Laugh Every Day
On the way to my parents for the fireworks, we stopped at Starbucks to get a drink. (it's my equivalent to taking a shot of whiskey).
We also stopped to get gas and there is a bikini-barista stand in the same parking lot. In case you don't know what this is, it's essentially strippers making coffee. It's seven different kinds of yukky.
I was teasing Kevin that they have calendars now and we should get one.
"Pull over there then." he says.
"No, because: gross." I say while pulling past the stand to leave.
Like a flash, Kevin reaches over and honks the horn then presses back against the seat so he can't been seen, making it look like I'm all "Hey baby" to the strippers.
Suddenly I'm sixteen, on a date with a cute & funny boy. All I could do is laugh. Twenty-four years later and it's as if no time has ever passed. Laughter every day, that is the key.
We also stopped to get gas and there is a bikini-barista stand in the same parking lot. In case you don't know what this is, it's essentially strippers making coffee. It's seven different kinds of yukky.
I was teasing Kevin that they have calendars now and we should get one.
"Pull over there then." he says.
"No, because: gross." I say while pulling past the stand to leave.
Like a flash, Kevin reaches over and honks the horn then presses back against the seat so he can't been seen, making it look like I'm all "Hey baby" to the strippers.
Suddenly I'm sixteen, on a date with a cute & funny boy. All I could do is laugh. Twenty-four years later and it's as if no time has ever passed. Laughter every day, that is the key.
A New Kind of Summer
Usually we are immersed in racing during this part of summer; gone on the weekends, late nights working on the cars, taking time off work. This year is different though, after wishing we could take a summer off over the past few years, we aren't racing this summer. Our home track underwent renovations over the late winter/Spring and they didn't go well. The track won't be open until the first weekend of August, all going well which hasn't been the case all summer.
We could go down to Seattle or Bremerton but we just don't want to. The drive is brutal, the trip requires hotel stays, and our friends aren't there. We've opted to just stay home instead.
With that, we don't know what to do with ourselves. We're never home during the summer. Like bored eight-year-olds, we're wandering around trying to figure out what to do. We've worked in the yard, we've organized the shop to Sheldon-like standards, we've organized the car trailer, we've relaxed, and we're bored. Bored.
We keep looking at each other "We should be doing *something* but what...?"
A few years ago we would also be in the middle of our busy time with fireworks. This would be one of those brutal years with three back-to-back shows. Now we're just lowly spectators. We've only watched one show this year, the one at my parents. The fascination is gone now that we're not the ones doing it. But a gap still remains. It feels odd to not be busy and exhausted.
So, here we sit. I've watched every episode and the movie of Veronica Mars. We've watched movies we've been meaning to watch, our DVR is at a low percentage that it hasn't seen in years. I've read one book and am in the middle of another. My magazine stack is no longer towering toward avalanche, nor is Kevin's. We're both bored with the interwebs.
I daresay we're going to resort to painting soon. The exterior trim is looking pretty sad and everything is due for a touch up. So far though, we haven't been *that* bored yet. I'm not sure there is a level of boredom that precipitates painting. I guess we'll see.
This is, however, making me a little nervous about our retirement years. Surely we won't be racing then (who knows, though) and what then? We best develop some sort of a hobby soon. In the meanwhile, we're experiencing a new kind of summer. The kind that everyone else does; spending time not doing much of anything. How do y'all do it?
We could go down to Seattle or Bremerton but we just don't want to. The drive is brutal, the trip requires hotel stays, and our friends aren't there. We've opted to just stay home instead.
With that, we don't know what to do with ourselves. We're never home during the summer. Like bored eight-year-olds, we're wandering around trying to figure out what to do. We've worked in the yard, we've organized the shop to Sheldon-like standards, we've organized the car trailer, we've relaxed, and we're bored. Bored.
We keep looking at each other "We should be doing *something* but what...?"
A few years ago we would also be in the middle of our busy time with fireworks. This would be one of those brutal years with three back-to-back shows. Now we're just lowly spectators. We've only watched one show this year, the one at my parents. The fascination is gone now that we're not the ones doing it. But a gap still remains. It feels odd to not be busy and exhausted.
So, here we sit. I've watched every episode and the movie of Veronica Mars. We've watched movies we've been meaning to watch, our DVR is at a low percentage that it hasn't seen in years. I've read one book and am in the middle of another. My magazine stack is no longer towering toward avalanche, nor is Kevin's. We're both bored with the interwebs.
I daresay we're going to resort to painting soon. The exterior trim is looking pretty sad and everything is due for a touch up. So far though, we haven't been *that* bored yet. I'm not sure there is a level of boredom that precipitates painting. I guess we'll see.
This is, however, making me a little nervous about our retirement years. Surely we won't be racing then (who knows, though) and what then? We best develop some sort of a hobby soon. In the meanwhile, we're experiencing a new kind of summer. The kind that everyone else does; spending time not doing much of anything. How do y'all do it?
29 June 2014
Solitary
I don't resent Father's Day as much as I resent Mother's Day. This does make some sense as Mother's Day I do take a bit personally. But I do find myself concentrating on not eye-rolling during both holidays. Some of my annoyance is the not having kids thing and some of it is the cynicism that not all families are Hallmark Channel families.
Conversely, I do enjoy seeing friends posts on the social media celebrating their parents. I know, it makes little sense. Welcome to my brain. I decided to participate and posted a picture of Kevin's dad, wishing him a happy Father's Day.
Next I posted a picture of my dad on Facebook for my brothers. It taken by me it a very, very long time ago with my brothers camera. He is ice skating on the lake in front of our house.
I've been scanning pictures into the laptop whenever I can. I have three photo albums from my parents house that I brought home. I've looked at it numerous times, even helped put some of them into the albums. Sometimes I notice photographs like I've never seen them before.
There's something about perspective. I was disappointed with the photo when I took it but now some many years later, it is the perfect representation of my dad. Solitary. Independent.
As I thought more about it: Me.
Like you do, as you age you realize that you are more like your parents than perhaps you're willing to admit. Specific to me, I was raised by alcoholics so the need to be different from them and/or put a distance between me and them is natural. So it was with more than a little startling realization that I understood that I've become like my dad.
I'm perfectly content doing things by myself. I'm content to not see people for days on end. (other than Kevin, obviously) I know that I've absolutely gotten the "I'll do it myself!" attitude from my dad. My family says I've always been that way.
As much distance a person may try to create, sometimes genetics just overcome everything else.
Conversely, I do enjoy seeing friends posts on the social media celebrating their parents. I know, it makes little sense. Welcome to my brain. I decided to participate and posted a picture of Kevin's dad, wishing him a happy Father's Day.
Next I posted a picture of my dad on Facebook for my brothers. It taken by me it a very, very long time ago with my brothers camera. He is ice skating on the lake in front of our house.
I've been scanning pictures into the laptop whenever I can. I have three photo albums from my parents house that I brought home. I've looked at it numerous times, even helped put some of them into the albums. Sometimes I notice photographs like I've never seen them before.
There's something about perspective. I was disappointed with the photo when I took it but now some many years later, it is the perfect representation of my dad. Solitary. Independent.
As I thought more about it: Me.
Like you do, as you age you realize that you are more like your parents than perhaps you're willing to admit. Specific to me, I was raised by alcoholics so the need to be different from them and/or put a distance between me and them is natural. So it was with more than a little startling realization that I understood that I've become like my dad.
I'm perfectly content doing things by myself. I'm content to not see people for days on end. (other than Kevin, obviously) I know that I've absolutely gotten the "I'll do it myself!" attitude from my dad. My family says I've always been that way.
As much distance a person may try to create, sometimes genetics just overcome everything else.
A Legacy in Red
The dedication of the new fire department that my dad served as chief for many years was last Saturday. It was a beautiful ceremony, with quite a few similarities to the firefighter memorial that they held for my dad. For that reason, the ceremony was bittersweet.
During the dedication they did all the traditional stuff; the transfer of the flag from one station to the other, the speeches, the ribbon cutting. It was very Hallmark Channel.
Afterward, the crowd broke apart and we met the current fire chief, who is like a son to my dad.
He was teary, which always undoes me. My mom broke down in tears as well. There were just so many similarities, I'm sure it wasn't lost on anyone. Also, to hear your family name referred to is honoring and a little strange. There wasn't an inch of that fire department that my dad wasn't a part of and it was a big part of my childhood as well.
It's one of the first times that I've actually missed my dad. He would have loved to have seen how everything turned out; what a great job Brett is doing, the incredible new hall, all of it.
Brett did something that just undoes me when I think about it. He had to stay out in the public space to greet everyone but told us to go look in his office first thing, before we saw anything else. We did and it was just one of the nicest things that I think anyone has ever done.
Prominently, the first thing you see entering his office are these:
The photo on the left is my dad in the old restored engine. He was the marshal in the local parade shortly before he died. He was so proud and happy that day. The one on the right is before the parade, posing with Brett's sons who are nearly grown now. Both of them were flag presenters at Dad's memorial and again at the dedication.
The dedication was just a really good example of two things: life goes on and that people do leave a legacy behind, whether they know it or not.
During the dedication they did all the traditional stuff; the transfer of the flag from one station to the other, the speeches, the ribbon cutting. It was very Hallmark Channel.
Afterward, the crowd broke apart and we met the current fire chief, who is like a son to my dad.
He was teary, which always undoes me. My mom broke down in tears as well. There were just so many similarities, I'm sure it wasn't lost on anyone. Also, to hear your family name referred to is honoring and a little strange. There wasn't an inch of that fire department that my dad wasn't a part of and it was a big part of my childhood as well.
It's one of the first times that I've actually missed my dad. He would have loved to have seen how everything turned out; what a great job Brett is doing, the incredible new hall, all of it.
Brett did something that just undoes me when I think about it. He had to stay out in the public space to greet everyone but told us to go look in his office first thing, before we saw anything else. We did and it was just one of the nicest things that I think anyone has ever done.
Prominently, the first thing you see entering his office are these:
The dedication was just a really good example of two things: life goes on and that people do leave a legacy behind, whether they know it or not.
14 June 2014
You Know It's Ugly When
Your loving husband puts where you almost can't see it.
Kevin's mom brought home a god-awful planter that her sister made using sea shells. To not hurt people's feelings, we kept it kind of out of sight at the corner of our house. After an appropriate amount of time passed (two years) and it started to fall apart, Kevin finally moved it.
He's letting it return to nature, in all it's glory.
Kevin's mom brought home a god-awful planter that her sister made using sea shells. To not hurt people's feelings, we kept it kind of out of sight at the corner of our house. After an appropriate amount of time passed (two years) and it started to fall apart, Kevin finally moved it.
He's letting it return to nature, in all it's glory.
 | |
| Specific in it's ugliness |
 | ||
| This is better |
 | ||
| Return to nature ugly planter. Go toward the light. (hidden to the left of the misshapen rhody) |
13 June 2014
May is usually our Happiest Month
I believe that things come in threes: deaths, disasters, etc. The month of May was one of the more brutal and strange examples of that theory.
As we discussed, our friend Dale committed suicide. My stomach still churns with this thought, it's just unbelievable. The shiny side is that we've become closer with his brother so that's good.
Then on Mother's Day one of my childhood best friends dad died in a tractor accident. Ugh. Just ugh.
And then this, the most brutal of them all maybe. Our friend and track photographer (the one whose pictures I post here) lost his dog in the most god-awful way possible. The dog walker he employed had a mental break and the dogs (six of them) died of heat stroke.
It's one of the few times that I've questioned existence. What the HELL, Universe?
May is one of those cluster months: birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays are all clumped together within a thirty-day period. I love May, usually. Just not this May as much.
To offset the awfulness, we did have our annual birthday party for Kevin and the littles. We counted 47 adults, 12 kids, 2 babies, and 3 dogs total. Although it rained all day, we had a really good time. We ended the day exhausted yet pleased at how many loved ones spent the day with us.
We also celebrated our 21st anniversary. As the last two years were spent healing from injury and illness, this anniversary almost felt strange; as if we were unsure exactly how to celebrate it. We took an extra long weekend, spent a very rare weekday together, and just spent time together alone.
Then, Kevin's mom, whose health is already frail, contracted C. Diff. For those of you who've been reading here a while, you will remember that I had this about three years ago and it had me home sick for two weeks. (it jacks the chemistry in your stomach when you take antibiotics that either you don't need or your body doesn't enjoy. The cure? Antibiotics.) This resulted in a three day stay at the hospital, including a 11:00 at night ambulance ride.
Fantastic.
It seems like we've had our three bad things, plus one. We've had two happy things so I'm fully expecting another 1.5 happy things to arrive any time now. Especially since it's June now.
As we discussed, our friend Dale committed suicide. My stomach still churns with this thought, it's just unbelievable. The shiny side is that we've become closer with his brother so that's good.
Then on Mother's Day one of my childhood best friends dad died in a tractor accident. Ugh. Just ugh.
And then this, the most brutal of them all maybe. Our friend and track photographer (the one whose pictures I post here) lost his dog in the most god-awful way possible. The dog walker he employed had a mental break and the dogs (six of them) died of heat stroke.
It's one of the few times that I've questioned existence. What the HELL, Universe?
May is one of those cluster months: birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays are all clumped together within a thirty-day period. I love May, usually. Just not this May as much.
To offset the awfulness, we did have our annual birthday party for Kevin and the littles. We counted 47 adults, 12 kids, 2 babies, and 3 dogs total. Although it rained all day, we had a really good time. We ended the day exhausted yet pleased at how many loved ones spent the day with us.
We also celebrated our 21st anniversary. As the last two years were spent healing from injury and illness, this anniversary almost felt strange; as if we were unsure exactly how to celebrate it. We took an extra long weekend, spent a very rare weekday together, and just spent time together alone.
Then, Kevin's mom, whose health is already frail, contracted C. Diff. For those of you who've been reading here a while, you will remember that I had this about three years ago and it had me home sick for two weeks. (it jacks the chemistry in your stomach when you take antibiotics that either you don't need or your body doesn't enjoy. The cure? Antibiotics.) This resulted in a three day stay at the hospital, including a 11:00 at night ambulance ride.
Fantastic.
It seems like we've had our three bad things, plus one. We've had two happy things so I'm fully expecting another 1.5 happy things to arrive any time now. Especially since it's June now.
11 June 2014
Lightening Rod
Work has still been all GAAAAHHHH!!!! It's bad enough that when I come home I just sit down to watch reruns of Greys Anatomy and/or Veronica Mars because my brain is just FULL. It simply cannot accept new information at this time.
I never expected that the ways things have played out in the workplace would ever have taken this direction. I thought the last major change was going to propel us into a new, happier, shinier future.
Yeah. Not so much.
The temporary new person is just as bad as my former boss, if not worse. Well, probably a little bit worse as she is non-communicative and apparently doesn't like white girls.
This is the first time that I've been discriminated against (to my knowledge, I am blissfully unaware at times) and it's just not good. There is simply no descriptor I can use that is appropriate there, "not good" is what I'm choosing as the least inflammatory. (and if you're a person that is not white, please feel free to comment and tell me to pipe the hell down. I accept that fully)
Now I'm not equating this person's nearly blatant hatred of me to the struggles of other races because I am well aware that this one person being mean to me is in no way possible, not even in the neighborhood, of being equal to blatant bigotry.
In fact, speaking of blissfully unaware, I didn't realize that was the problem until it was pointed out by a co-worker who happens to match the race of my new temporary boss. It was pointed out that she treats the other staff much more respectfully and while most of them match me, they are all older than me and some even older than the new temporary boss. Age trumps color, perhaps.
So, if we're keeping score: I'm a younger, white, blonde person in a small pool of mostly older and more diverse backgrounds. To add to the mix: I'm the last remaining staff member from the original organization and apparently that is threatening.
The fighter in me wants to just flip the table, yell, and demand to be treated better. Fortuntately or unfortunately depending on how you look at it, the more mature part of me says "Don't make permanent decisions over temporary problems." I can wait this person out and just hope that karma visits justly. I'm just focusing on doing my job, in my quiet little office, and waiting for the storm to pass. The fighter in me also wants very badly to call her out so that she cannot go victimize anyone else. This, sadly, is not my battle to fight though.
One of my co-workers described herself as a "Delayed Reactor" (Swistle, I thought you'd like that description) She processes things slowly and often finds herself having to circle back to a confrontation. I, as sometimes an immediate reactor, wistfully stated that I wish I was more like that. She disagreed and thought I possessed the more enviable trait.
But being a reactor means that I am sometimes a lightening rod. Because I speak my mind and defend myself, it attracts others that, shall we say, don't appreciate that trait. This is exhausting and why sometimes I wish I was a delayed reactor instead. I can only wish to develop a meet in the middle sort of reaction.
It's complicated and this is why I have been coming home to see what Veronica or Meredith & Christina are up to after work. Their lives are so much more simple. And they live in television.
I never expected that the ways things have played out in the workplace would ever have taken this direction. I thought the last major change was going to propel us into a new, happier, shinier future.
Yeah. Not so much.
The temporary new person is just as bad as my former boss, if not worse. Well, probably a little bit worse as she is non-communicative and apparently doesn't like white girls.
This is the first time that I've been discriminated against (to my knowledge, I am blissfully unaware at times) and it's just not good. There is simply no descriptor I can use that is appropriate there, "not good" is what I'm choosing as the least inflammatory. (and if you're a person that is not white, please feel free to comment and tell me to pipe the hell down. I accept that fully)
Now I'm not equating this person's nearly blatant hatred of me to the struggles of other races because I am well aware that this one person being mean to me is in no way possible, not even in the neighborhood, of being equal to blatant bigotry.
In fact, speaking of blissfully unaware, I didn't realize that was the problem until it was pointed out by a co-worker who happens to match the race of my new temporary boss. It was pointed out that she treats the other staff much more respectfully and while most of them match me, they are all older than me and some even older than the new temporary boss. Age trumps color, perhaps.
So, if we're keeping score: I'm a younger, white, blonde person in a small pool of mostly older and more diverse backgrounds. To add to the mix: I'm the last remaining staff member from the original organization and apparently that is threatening.
The fighter in me wants to just flip the table, yell, and demand to be treated better. Fortuntately or unfortunately depending on how you look at it, the more mature part of me says "Don't make permanent decisions over temporary problems." I can wait this person out and just hope that karma visits justly. I'm just focusing on doing my job, in my quiet little office, and waiting for the storm to pass. The fighter in me also wants very badly to call her out so that she cannot go victimize anyone else. This, sadly, is not my battle to fight though.
One of my co-workers described herself as a "Delayed Reactor" (Swistle, I thought you'd like that description) She processes things slowly and often finds herself having to circle back to a confrontation. I, as sometimes an immediate reactor, wistfully stated that I wish I was more like that. She disagreed and thought I possessed the more enviable trait.
But being a reactor means that I am sometimes a lightening rod. Because I speak my mind and defend myself, it attracts others that, shall we say, don't appreciate that trait. This is exhausting and why sometimes I wish I was a delayed reactor instead. I can only wish to develop a meet in the middle sort of reaction.
It's complicated and this is why I have been coming home to see what Veronica or Meredith & Christina are up to after work. Their lives are so much more simple. And they live in television.
08 June 2014
Put Me in a Bubble
I have a new allergy. I'm so unexcited about this. There are two weird things at play with this new allergy though:
I have two blisters on my ELBOWS randomly and without warning. I think I also had a small one on my thumb but I just can't tell if it's a scratch or cut. It healed almost immediately but not so much the elbows. The elbows are obvious. I look like I'm six years old and took a spill off my bike.
We thought it was strawberries because I've recently had some in both fresh, jam, and yogurt form. I'm not a huge strawberry fan so it's rare that I eat them but I was just bored with eating the same flavors over and over.
When discussing the apple allergy with the doctor, she mentioned that strawberries are usually the culprit when it comes to reactions and to pay attention. Turns out: she wasn't kidding.
Today I googled the symptoms because I think Kevin's convinced my elbows are going to fall off. Also, the left elbow won't heal after three days. We're having a disagreement over whether or not to use band-aids. Turns out I'm right: blisters should be covered. If this wasn't such a stupid topic I would be all "I was right, you were wrong" but Blisters on My Elbows.
(And no worries: I went to MayoClinic.com, which is a recommended site from Kevin's doctor. No WebMD for me, thank you.)
It turns out that it might be cashews. I've tried to implement nuts into our snacks instead of salty chips, etc. so I've recently eaten cashews; again something that I don't normally eat. Maybe I'm just allergic to healthy foods. My body is all "Nope, can't do it. I can readily identify the ingredients."
I swear if this allergy thing keeps up I am going to have to become a vegetarian and pray that I don't ever have to have medicine of any kind. Or I'll become Girl in the Plastic Bubble, that might be more realistic.
I have two blisters on my ELBOWS randomly and without warning. I think I also had a small one on my thumb but I just can't tell if it's a scratch or cut. It healed almost immediately but not so much the elbows. The elbows are obvious. I look like I'm six years old and took a spill off my bike.
We thought it was strawberries because I've recently had some in both fresh, jam, and yogurt form. I'm not a huge strawberry fan so it's rare that I eat them but I was just bored with eating the same flavors over and over.
When discussing the apple allergy with the doctor, she mentioned that strawberries are usually the culprit when it comes to reactions and to pay attention. Turns out: she wasn't kidding.
Today I googled the symptoms because I think Kevin's convinced my elbows are going to fall off. Also, the left elbow won't heal after three days. We're having a disagreement over whether or not to use band-aids. Turns out I'm right: blisters should be covered. If this wasn't such a stupid topic I would be all "I was right, you were wrong" but Blisters on My Elbows.
(And no worries: I went to MayoClinic.com, which is a recommended site from Kevin's doctor. No WebMD for me, thank you.)
It turns out that it might be cashews. I've tried to implement nuts into our snacks instead of salty chips, etc. so I've recently eaten cashews; again something that I don't normally eat. Maybe I'm just allergic to healthy foods. My body is all "Nope, can't do it. I can readily identify the ingredients."
I swear if this allergy thing keeps up I am going to have to become a vegetarian and pray that I don't ever have to have medicine of any kind. Or I'll become Girl in the Plastic Bubble, that might be more realistic.
29 May 2014
A Shelf Fell Down
One of my only complaints about this house is that the shelving in closets are weak. Each of the them have fallen now. This last one was in Monica's Closet. I ignored it for a few weeks because I knew it would be a much bigger job than I wanted to undertake. The shelf conveniently rested on stacks of totes so there was no emergency.
We had our annual birthday gathering for Kevin and the littles this past weekend so I knew I had to work on it, want to or not. I had sorted and stacked what was on the actual shelf and left it outside the closet door, which the OCD hated but I told it to pipe down. It did make me give a bunch of stuff to the eldest Niece, who was THRILLED to have it. Some of it is still in the back of the 4Runner, waiting to go to Goodwill.
The closet is the one space that I allow to be a bit messy yet it is quite organized. (my definition of messy, Kevin says) On the left are four totes of Christmas decorations and two faux Christmas trees. Half of these are the in-laws so put down your plans for an intervention.
The center stack is stuff I use intermittently like a tote of gift bags and ribbons, a tall tote of wrapping paper, a tote of picture frames and pictures, and the bedding for the racecar trailer. This stack often gets random stuff piled on top of it; ignored filing, empty boxes, toys for the kids, etc.
Next row is decorations left over from when I worked at the school. I used to decorate the office (and my house, actually) for each holiday. I've pared this down quite a bit but it still exists.
This leaves the final row. This row of totes are keepsakes. Books, toys, and stuffies from my childhood, stuff from Kevin's childhood, and just random and I mean RANDOM keepsakes. Greeting cards, stickers, funny cartoons, correspondence, stuff you would probably find in any high school locker.
My intention is to someday put these items into scrapbook albums. But someday keeps getting further away. Some of it has lost it's meaning so I'm all "Why did I keep this" and some of it is stuff I can look up on the interwebs or scan into the laptop and be done with it. I like how some "problems" are solved just by the passage of time.
The biggest challenge is greeting cards. If I could figure out how to remove signatures from greeting cards, I would have an entire Hallmark store inventory. I just feel badly about tossing them into the trash. I've kept a small collection of milestones but over time, all of the cards from all of the things have been thrown together.
Maybe I'm over-thinking this (don't say Hoarder) but I have difficulty choosing which cards to keep because people die and then seeing that signature is comforting. But that doesn't mean keep them forever because people might die. So, we're back to the milestones only.
Kevin thinks keeping our childhood stuff is a little silly at this point because we don't have kids. We have grand nephews and nieces but I think they have very little interest in old stuffies and Hot Wheels. Some of the toys have value on the ebay but who wants to deal with that? Clearly not me.
So, in three totes in a far corner of a closet, sit memories of our existence. Kevin said "Or you can leave them and the Nephew and Niece will have to deal with them." Nice, Kevin, you and your black heart.
For now, it's all reassembled and a little less crowded. Some day I'll decide about those greeting cards and buy scrapbooks. Someday. But we all know that when I buy those scrapbooks, they're just going to sit in Monica's closet until the shelf falls down again.
We had our annual birthday gathering for Kevin and the littles this past weekend so I knew I had to work on it, want to or not. I had sorted and stacked what was on the actual shelf and left it outside the closet door, which the OCD hated but I told it to pipe down. It did make me give a bunch of stuff to the eldest Niece, who was THRILLED to have it. Some of it is still in the back of the 4Runner, waiting to go to Goodwill.
The closet is the one space that I allow to be a bit messy yet it is quite organized. (my definition of messy, Kevin says) On the left are four totes of Christmas decorations and two faux Christmas trees. Half of these are the in-laws so put down your plans for an intervention.
The center stack is stuff I use intermittently like a tote of gift bags and ribbons, a tall tote of wrapping paper, a tote of picture frames and pictures, and the bedding for the racecar trailer. This stack often gets random stuff piled on top of it; ignored filing, empty boxes, toys for the kids, etc.
Next row is decorations left over from when I worked at the school. I used to decorate the office (and my house, actually) for each holiday. I've pared this down quite a bit but it still exists.
This leaves the final row. This row of totes are keepsakes. Books, toys, and stuffies from my childhood, stuff from Kevin's childhood, and just random and I mean RANDOM keepsakes. Greeting cards, stickers, funny cartoons, correspondence, stuff you would probably find in any high school locker.
My intention is to someday put these items into scrapbook albums. But someday keeps getting further away. Some of it has lost it's meaning so I'm all "Why did I keep this" and some of it is stuff I can look up on the interwebs or scan into the laptop and be done with it. I like how some "problems" are solved just by the passage of time.
The biggest challenge is greeting cards. If I could figure out how to remove signatures from greeting cards, I would have an entire Hallmark store inventory. I just feel badly about tossing them into the trash. I've kept a small collection of milestones but over time, all of the cards from all of the things have been thrown together.
Maybe I'm over-thinking this (don't say Hoarder) but I have difficulty choosing which cards to keep because people die and then seeing that signature is comforting. But that doesn't mean keep them forever because people might die. So, we're back to the milestones only.
Kevin thinks keeping our childhood stuff is a little silly at this point because we don't have kids. We have grand nephews and nieces but I think they have very little interest in old stuffies and Hot Wheels. Some of the toys have value on the ebay but who wants to deal with that? Clearly not me.
So, in three totes in a far corner of a closet, sit memories of our existence. Kevin said "Or you can leave them and the Nephew and Niece will have to deal with them." Nice, Kevin, you and your black heart.
For now, it's all reassembled and a little less crowded. Some day I'll decide about those greeting cards and buy scrapbooks. Someday. But we all know that when I buy those scrapbooks, they're just going to sit in Monica's closet until the shelf falls down again.
25 May 2014
I Won Survivor
I really wanted to title this "Oh for Eff Sake" but I decided not to. For once, I'm choosing to be a grown-up. This One Time! The other option is The Cheese Stands Alone, which will make sense in a few paragraphs.
My work has been absolutely crazy cakes. (thank you, Swistle, for that word) In October, we merged with another agency. One that happened to be bigger than ours but had management issues. We crammed four additional people into our offices and endured copious amounts of drama.
Momentarily, the dust settled. And then.
The case manager decided that this merger somehow translated into "I don't have to do my job anymore" and she was eventually invited to work elsewhere. Okay, now that leaves me as the person that has been employed by my agency the longest. Okay.
Then, after a series of meetings and emails, the executive director was invited to leave. Well, was going to be invited but she decided to leave ahead of said invitation.
I am now the only person who worked for the original agency. I have won Survivor. The Cheese Stands Alone.
All of these changes brought a new co-worker who wasn't so new because she just came over from one building (same agency) to another. Then it also brought an interim executive director who was the board president just prior to my starting there. Then because this isn't confusing enough, it also brought an interim board president because the current board president had recent surgery and is taking leave.
Now you see why I wanted to title this "Oh For Eff Sakes"
So, if you're doing the math, we've added two more folks into our building which was already super overcrowded.
In the mix of all this, I moved my office. Instead of being on the main floor, I moved downstairs. It's very quiet and out of the way and I actually enjoy it. I can open the windows, I can turn the music up, I can surf the internet freely. (joking, not joking) I can talk to myself and make noise without worrying about disturbing my co-worker.
My office is also the bookkeeper's office BUT she is supposed to work in the afternoon while I'm not there. (there are two workstations) Well, she has been appearing early and she is NOT AMUSED. Not about the changes, not about me being in the office. NOT AMUSED. (fast forward: she ended up quitting so there's that)
Example #2 of wanting that title for this post.
In about one month, I will most likely be moving offices again. I KNOW. Part of the reason is that my office is so detached and part of the reason is convoluted and complicated and would require charts, graphs, and a laser pointer. Mostly is because my job title and duties have changed again.
My current office is a remodeled storage room and has piping for the sprinkler system. It's kind of steam-punk but it's nice though. The walls are yellow and there are windows that let the natural light in without being glaring. We've decorated it nicely so the pipes just become part of the ambiance.
It was the office of the former executive director. She left said office about two months ago, not because of her impending invitation to leave but because she decided that she didn't want to work down there anymore.
Instead of having a meeting and requesting for us to restructure our offices (again) she created a reason: it had mold and was making her sick. It wasn't and there wasn't. A) it was a brand new space and 2) we had multiple tests that told us that it didn't. Yes, she imagined mold and illness. But wait, there's more. She squatted in everyone ELSES office until the social worker left us and then she immediately took that office hostage.
Now you see why she no longer works here and the optional title of this post.
In a few weeks this will most likely be all different again. It's a good thing I pack light and that I enjoy my coworkers.
Outwit, outlast, outplay: the reality reality show.
My work has been absolutely crazy cakes. (thank you, Swistle, for that word) In October, we merged with another agency. One that happened to be bigger than ours but had management issues. We crammed four additional people into our offices and endured copious amounts of drama.
Momentarily, the dust settled. And then.
The case manager decided that this merger somehow translated into "I don't have to do my job anymore" and she was eventually invited to work elsewhere. Okay, now that leaves me as the person that has been employed by my agency the longest. Okay.
Then, after a series of meetings and emails, the executive director was invited to leave. Well, was going to be invited but she decided to leave ahead of said invitation.
I am now the only person who worked for the original agency. I have won Survivor. The Cheese Stands Alone.
All of these changes brought a new co-worker who wasn't so new because she just came over from one building (same agency) to another. Then it also brought an interim executive director who was the board president just prior to my starting there. Then because this isn't confusing enough, it also brought an interim board president because the current board president had recent surgery and is taking leave.
Now you see why I wanted to title this "Oh For Eff Sakes"
So, if you're doing the math, we've added two more folks into our building which was already super overcrowded.
In the mix of all this, I moved my office. Instead of being on the main floor, I moved downstairs. It's very quiet and out of the way and I actually enjoy it. I can open the windows, I can turn the music up, I can surf the internet freely. (joking, not joking) I can talk to myself and make noise without worrying about disturbing my co-worker.
My office is also the bookkeeper's office BUT she is supposed to work in the afternoon while I'm not there. (there are two workstations) Well, she has been appearing early and she is NOT AMUSED. Not about the changes, not about me being in the office. NOT AMUSED. (fast forward: she ended up quitting so there's that)
Example #2 of wanting that title for this post.
In about one month, I will most likely be moving offices again. I KNOW. Part of the reason is that my office is so detached and part of the reason is convoluted and complicated and would require charts, graphs, and a laser pointer. Mostly is because my job title and duties have changed again.
My current office is a remodeled storage room and has piping for the sprinkler system. It's kind of steam-punk but it's nice though. The walls are yellow and there are windows that let the natural light in without being glaring. We've decorated it nicely so the pipes just become part of the ambiance.
It was the office of the former executive director. She left said office about two months ago, not because of her impending invitation to leave but because she decided that she didn't want to work down there anymore.
Instead of having a meeting and requesting for us to restructure our offices (again) she created a reason: it had mold and was making her sick. It wasn't and there wasn't. A) it was a brand new space and 2) we had multiple tests that told us that it didn't. Yes, she imagined mold and illness. But wait, there's more. She squatted in everyone ELSES office until the social worker left us and then she immediately took that office hostage.
Now you see why she no longer works here and the optional title of this post.
In a few weeks this will most likely be all different again. It's a good thing I pack light and that I enjoy my coworkers.
Outwit, outlast, outplay: the reality reality show.
20 May 2014
I Can't Choose Soda
So, my next post will explain where in the world of Carmen San Diego I have been. Let me tell you that everything is okay but my work. OHMYGAH my work.
This scenario sums up everything perfectly:
Kevin worked up here today so we met for lunch. We went to the ever so glamorous Taco Time (which I realize might mean nothing to some of you. Think, um, Chipotle)
I arrived first (I know! That never happens!) so I ordered our lunches. Then I stood at the soda machine and waited for some high school aged girls to fill their sodas. Standing there, I was annoyed. Not at the high school girls, although really one of them was dressed like a stripper and the other was dressed like Avril Lavigne so it made me wonder if I missed Halloween.
Finally, they finished and walked away. I found myself just staring at the soda machine. It is one of those machines with a touch-screen and approximately eleventy hundred options. My brain was so full and busy that I just chose what remained on the screen after the last girl chose her drink.
I can't even choose my own doggone soda, my brain is so full.
Kevin looked at my drink a while later and asked "What in the Sam Hell is that?" (isn't he cute?)
"I know. I know. It's sad and pathetic actually."
"What are you talking about?"
"I couldn't even consider what kind of soda I wanted so I just chose what the girl ahead of me chose."
"That *is* sad and pathetic."
My current life, as defined by a soda choice.
This scenario sums up everything perfectly:
Kevin worked up here today so we met for lunch. We went to the ever so glamorous Taco Time (which I realize might mean nothing to some of you. Think, um, Chipotle)
I arrived first (I know! That never happens!) so I ordered our lunches. Then I stood at the soda machine and waited for some high school aged girls to fill their sodas. Standing there, I was annoyed. Not at the high school girls, although really one of them was dressed like a stripper and the other was dressed like Avril Lavigne so it made me wonder if I missed Halloween.
Finally, they finished and walked away. I found myself just staring at the soda machine. It is one of those machines with a touch-screen and approximately eleventy hundred options. My brain was so full and busy that I just chose what remained on the screen after the last girl chose her drink.
I can't even choose my own doggone soda, my brain is so full.
Kevin looked at my drink a while later and asked "What in the Sam Hell is that?" (isn't he cute?)
"I know. I know. It's sad and pathetic actually."
"What are you talking about?"
"I couldn't even consider what kind of soda I wanted so I just chose what the girl ahead of me chose."
"That *is* sad and pathetic."
My current life, as defined by a soda choice.
07 May 2014
Worry Just Enough
Work has been rough lately. Seriously stressful (and I feel like that word is way overused so if I'M using it, some sh*t has gone down)
I often make the joke "I need to start drinking again" while at work. It is intended as a joke but man, lately, I've felt like I'm not joking. At all.
And this, dearies, is why I don't drink.
While I'm not an alcoholic and I don't feel like I've been in the neighborhood even, I keep a very close eye on it. Having been raised by alcoholics and have grandparents who were also alcoholics, why would I even try to trigger whichever gene it resides in?
I've been "sober" I put that in quotes because it feels like me using that phrase diminishes someone elses struggle & I don't like that nor intend it. Let's try again: I haven't drank in probably more than three years. The last time I had double shot of Jack Daniels while we were in Vegas. It didn't do much for me and I felt like it was a waste of time, This Time. However, the time before that I did get stupid drunk and I'm not even sure how it happened. (New Years Eve and I wasn't pouring but that's no reason)
The fact that the joke "I should start" has recently held some want to it is a bad sign. If I think about it, I can picture it, I can taste it and I can want it. So I try to avoid that. I redirect myself, I acknowledge that it is a scary little street to travel down, and/or I go get an iced mocha which is a much "better" choice.
Kevin thinks I may over-worry about this. He also tells me that I will know when I would be drinking too much because "You would come home to all your sh*t in the yard." But I think I worry just enough. Just enough to keep me from buying a travel size bottle of Jack and relieving tension in not the best way.
See? I readily came to that example above. That shows me that drinking is not a good idea for me.
I often make the joke "I need to start drinking again" while at work. It is intended as a joke but man, lately, I've felt like I'm not joking. At all.
And this, dearies, is why I don't drink.
While I'm not an alcoholic and I don't feel like I've been in the neighborhood even, I keep a very close eye on it. Having been raised by alcoholics and have grandparents who were also alcoholics, why would I even try to trigger whichever gene it resides in?
I've been "sober" I put that in quotes because it feels like me using that phrase diminishes someone elses struggle & I don't like that nor intend it. Let's try again: I haven't drank in probably more than three years. The last time I had double shot of Jack Daniels while we were in Vegas. It didn't do much for me and I felt like it was a waste of time, This Time. However, the time before that I did get stupid drunk and I'm not even sure how it happened. (New Years Eve and I wasn't pouring but that's no reason)
The fact that the joke "I should start" has recently held some want to it is a bad sign. If I think about it, I can picture it, I can taste it and I can want it. So I try to avoid that. I redirect myself, I acknowledge that it is a scary little street to travel down, and/or I go get an iced mocha which is a much "better" choice.
Kevin thinks I may over-worry about this. He also tells me that I will know when I would be drinking too much because "You would come home to all your sh*t in the yard." But I think I worry just enough. Just enough to keep me from buying a travel size bottle of Jack and relieving tension in not the best way.
See? I readily came to that example above. That shows me that drinking is not a good idea for me.
30 April 2014
Random Drafts
Swistle did this when she was converting her blog over to another site. As she went through her posts, she posted some of the the random drafts that were languishing around. I think this is a brilliant idea, as many of hers are, and I'm borrowing it.
Here are some of my unfinished drafts:
This House is Clean
I've mentioned before that the building I work in is 100 years old. It's always been a YWCA so I can't even begin to guess how many people have been through those doors. It's always been a residence but it has also been a public swimming pool and public kitchen. It was built to provide single women a place to live or spend time off the streets of the Wild West days of early Bellingham.
There has been mentions of ghosts and sounds and closing of doors since I started here. I take it in stride because that stuff doesn't bother me. Also: 100 year old building. I don't get to be bothered by such things and work here. Someone said once that I work in a museum and I found that to be quite apt.
No title
I'm still on strike over camping at the racetrack because I'm 44 years old and that seems ridiculous. (the camping and the 44 years old thing, both equally ridiculous) So, I came home alone one night and both of us one night. I like to drive so the trip back and forth is a treat for me. Crossing the border doesn't bother me at all. I just have a book in case I ever get stuck in a back-up. Some of the border guards say "Welcome Home" when we come back and it's strangely very nice to hear.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Just a link:
http://blog.estately.com/2014/01/29-things-to-know-before-moving-to-bellingham/
I meant to wax poetically about the city I work in. Read this instead.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Phone Dependency:
After last year's adventure, having my phone with me has become such a habit that it's beginning to bother me. I don't like being that person that is constantly checking their phone or panicking because they can't find it.
But after nearly a year of having it constantly on my person so if I had trouble I could call, it has sadly become like a pacifier.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Just a list (some of which I *think* I wrote about and was originally intended as a recap of our Vegas trip..two years ago):
Here are some of my unfinished drafts:
This House is Clean
I've mentioned before that the building I work in is 100 years old. It's always been a YWCA so I can't even begin to guess how many people have been through those doors. It's always been a residence but it has also been a public swimming pool and public kitchen. It was built to provide single women a place to live or spend time off the streets of the Wild West days of early Bellingham.
There has been mentions of ghosts and sounds and closing of doors since I started here. I take it in stride because that stuff doesn't bother me. Also: 100 year old building. I don't get to be bothered by such things and work here. Someone said once that I work in a museum and I found that to be quite apt.
No title
I'm still on strike over camping at the racetrack because I'm 44 years old and that seems ridiculous. (the camping and the 44 years old thing, both equally ridiculous) So, I came home alone one night and both of us one night. I like to drive so the trip back and forth is a treat for me. Crossing the border doesn't bother me at all. I just have a book in case I ever get stuck in a back-up. Some of the border guards say "Welcome Home" when we come back and it's strangely very nice to hear.
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Just a link:
http://blog.estately.com/2014/01/29-things-to-know-before-moving-to-bellingham/
I meant to wax poetically about the city I work in. Read this instead.
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Phone Dependency:
After last year's adventure, having my phone with me has become such a habit that it's beginning to bother me. I don't like being that person that is constantly checking their phone or panicking because they can't find it.
But after nearly a year of having it constantly on my person so if I had trouble I could call, it has sadly become like a pacifier.
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Just a list (some of which I *think* I wrote about and was originally intended as a recap of our Vegas trip..two years ago):
Schizophrenic or Bluetooth?
Forced to watch commercials (no dvr in the hotel)
Discussion of war (Arab Spring was starting and we were traveling with an international businessman friend)
Grand Canyon (I know I wrote about this)
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
No Title (but two Christmases ago)
It's strangely quiet here today. After a day of chaos including six kids under eleven and eleven adults, I imagine an airport would seem quiet in comparison.
After stating that the truck repairs and new television were our presents this year, we both failed miserably at being grown-ups and re-enacted Gifts of the Magi. I am writing this on a Nook HD+ ( not quite a tablet but more than an e-reader) while listening to enhanced sound on the new television, courtesy of Kevin's new sound system.
Why, yes, we are both youngest children. Why do you ask?
Kid highlights:
We had one of the boy littles this year for present opening. Coincidentally, he and Kevin were both in full-OCD mode as they disposed of each wrapping after carefully inspecting each present then stashing it away in the assigned box.
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I Want to Date:
Boys of this generation.
(that's it. I know where I was headed. It was about how enlightened and verbal and more open boys are these days compared to the guys when I was young. One hundred and ten years ago.)
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Forced to watch commercials (no dvr in the hotel)
Discussion of war (Arab Spring was starting and we were traveling with an international businessman friend)
Grand Canyon (I know I wrote about this)
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
No Title (but two Christmases ago)
It's strangely quiet here today. After a day of chaos including six kids under eleven and eleven adults, I imagine an airport would seem quiet in comparison.
After stating that the truck repairs and new television were our presents this year, we both failed miserably at being grown-ups and re-enacted Gifts of the Magi. I am writing this on a Nook HD+ ( not quite a tablet but more than an e-reader) while listening to enhanced sound on the new television, courtesy of Kevin's new sound system.
Why, yes, we are both youngest children. Why do you ask?
Kid highlights:
We had one of the boy littles this year for present opening. Coincidentally, he and Kevin were both in full-OCD mode as they disposed of each wrapping after carefully inspecting each present then stashing it away in the assigned box.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I Want to Date:
Boys of this generation.
(that's it. I know where I was headed. It was about how enlightened and verbal and more open boys are these days compared to the guys when I was young. One hundred and ten years ago.)
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
My Therapy is in a Grocery Store
I like to shop at the high-end grocery store when I only need a few items. For instance, their produce is remarkably better so I often stock up there. And their baked goods...mmmm....I can justify spending a little more when it's only a few items.
My first outing after throwing myself down the stairs was physical therapy. It felt odd to be out in the world again after months of going nowhere and seeing no one other than family. It was almost overwhelming.
I had decided that if physical therapy went well, I would use a coffee gift card that was given to me at work prior to said stair adventure. This store also has a coffee stand within it's walls. I know, it's nearly perfect.
The nice thing about this grocery store is that parking is close, level, and well-maintained. As is the inside of the grocery store. It's quieter and less people so one doesn't have to worry that you're limping and using the cart as a walker.
So, this store became my therapy. I would stop and pick up a little something-something and do as much walking as I could stand after a doctor's appointment or therapy.
Well, it's become a habit now. Even if I only need grapes and muffins, which are on the same side of the store and nearest the parking lot, I still walk slowly around the store as if touring a museum or flower garden.
It's not like I'm particularly interested in much of anything beyond the basics in a food store but that being said the music is always good. The entry always has the most lovely flowers and plants and Christmas trees so it's like walking through a garden.
What more could a girl ask for from therapy? Baked goods, good music, pretty flowers, and coffee.
My first outing after throwing myself down the stairs was physical therapy. It felt odd to be out in the world again after months of going nowhere and seeing no one other than family. It was almost overwhelming.
I had decided that if physical therapy went well, I would use a coffee gift card that was given to me at work prior to said stair adventure. This store also has a coffee stand within it's walls. I know, it's nearly perfect.
The nice thing about this grocery store is that parking is close, level, and well-maintained. As is the inside of the grocery store. It's quieter and less people so one doesn't have to worry that you're limping and using the cart as a walker.
So, this store became my therapy. I would stop and pick up a little something-something and do as much walking as I could stand after a doctor's appointment or therapy.
Well, it's become a habit now. Even if I only need grapes and muffins, which are on the same side of the store and nearest the parking lot, I still walk slowly around the store as if touring a museum or flower garden.
It's not like I'm particularly interested in much of anything beyond the basics in a food store but that being said the music is always good. The entry always has the most lovely flowers and plants and Christmas trees so it's like walking through a garden.
What more could a girl ask for from therapy? Baked goods, good music, pretty flowers, and coffee.
23 April 2014
Treasure Hunt
We went out to the lake for my mother's birthday last weekend. Family gatherings are always awkward and stilted and I dread them. It was a little better with my dad's passing...go figure the absence of an alcoholic improves things...but it's still just weird.
Kevin decided to bring Lucy with us, which provided a natural respite from the awkwardness. We took her down to the water and let her sniff, sniff, sniff, and explore. This seemed to resonate with me as well because the next thing I knew I was looking for rocks to skip. Being a lake kid, I nearly immediately reverted back to looking for treasures.
While looking for rocks to skip, I found not only my childhood but many treasures. I found two baby clam shells, a snail shell (also tiny), an oyster shell, fossilized wood, and two agates. My inner six-year-old is over the moon with joy. Kevin, meanwhile, is wondering what I'm going to do with this junk. I'm not sure why but I felt compelled to keep these lovely items.
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