Saturday, August 28, 2010

“Mawwaige”….hands down the most difficult thing I have ever done…and I’m not done. Some say the most challenging things we do reap the greatest rewards. My children not withstanding, I plead the fifth on that at this time. We have just spent the second night in our new home. As foretold in previous blogs, the Paint Nazi has not finished painting but like a very aggressive cow in a china shop I moved in anyway. For those of you unfamiliar, the Paint Nazi is my husband. I hate that word…HUSBAND. It is a weird word. Almost as weird as wife. Anyway, we moved in not a moment too soon. The Paint Nazi are like two panthers in a cage circling back and forth just waiting for the other to say something wrong or look cross ways so they can attack. Hence the larger home gives us more cage space and keeps us from the inevitable. When forced to sit close together our children have to witness the sad, regression of maturity when one says to the other “You’re touching me!” When one of us dares to make a joke the others’ defenses rise quickly and the response is usually “You think you are so funny don’t you?” Unless, you just get the kiss of death…the rolling of the eyes. Yes, I’ll admit it, like most women, the rolling of the eyes is my favorite response to give. It is a perfect response and I’ll cop to it. Maybe some of you relate to this maybe some of you do not. If you don’t and you are married, let me offer my sincere congratulations on your recent nuptials! Please do not build or remodel a house any time soon! My view on marriage after 22 years, okay, sometimes a little cynical. However, I have learned a thing or two. Getting married is like trying to force two countries to co-exist. I don’t care if you think you have everything in common. You grew up in two different houses and were taught two completely different ways to live. How to fold towels, if you fold towels, do you fold your sox or roll your sox, how do you spell socks? Do you eat canned corn or frozen corn, do you eat white tortilla chips or yellow tortilla chips, how often do you vacuum, again, do you vacuum? And those are just the little things. So stop right there! I have had to do the same thing after 22 years and stop right there. THOSE ARE JUST LITTLE THINGS. Life is good. Later.

Friday, August 20, 2010

Finally! Back on line!! Good Lord, I never knew I could feel so 'disconnected'! With my limited access to the world wide web these last two weeks I have been noticing how much we actually take the "E" in our lives for granted. I know everyone always says we are too electronically dependant but it sure makes life easier. Especially when your personal life and professional life cross over on a regular basis. When you need to work at odd hours etc. Speaking of my professional life...I have worked in my current career for 22 years this year basically for the same company. Most of the time my job requires a high level of professionalism and I manage a team so I must be an example in what I say and how I conduct myself. Personally, and if you know me you know this, I tend to be loud and sometimes obnoxious. I enjoy big laughs and often I say things that might be inappropriate and I definately share too much information. Sometimes, more than I'd like, I pee when I sneeze and I will tell you when I do. So, me personally? Not all that professional. I try very hard to be efficient and organized at work and I have to work very hard to do that and so when I am not at work my mind can go faster than by body or vice versa. Hence, some might say I am a little...well...less graceful than most and maybe have less, shall we say, foresight (?) than I should. Long story short, I can get myself into some unfortunate situations. This annoys me to no end. I know I am a fairly smart gal and I am very capable and have been very successful in what I have done. But geez, I have gotten myself into some crap. These situations seem to come in bunches. Sometimes a few little ones and then sometimes big ones, like when I fell down the stairs at Christmas time and broke my leg and had to have pins and a plate put in my leg and right after that I got the shingles...sorry I digress. In the last week I had a couple little reminders that I am NOT the professional I think I am. I was in my office going through my mail and clearing things up so I could take some time off this last week. I had a little stack of papers that needed to go in the shred bin. Now shredding, this is a new concept in the last 5-7 years and it is CRUCIAL where I work that the appropriate stuff go into the locked and secured shred bin. No one has a key except the shred company that comes periodically to empty the bin and so once your stuff is in the shred bin, that be it. So, I am getting my things and I have two checks that my son gave me to deposit for him. His lawn mowing money. I have those in one hand and the shred in the other and...I know you can see it coming...sianara baby...I put those checks right into the ultra secured shred bin of doom. Crap! Now I am looking through the dark slot to confirm I have actually done what I know I just did. I can't see anything. Our shred bin is huge and nearly empty. Gone, baby gone! Dammit! So I do what every professional person in the same situation would do...I start banging on the lid of the bin trying to break into it and retrieve my son's $50 fortune I just literally thew away. No go. So then I do the next logical professional thing, I grab my bag and stomp down the hall to my car and let the expletives fly. I go to the ATM and get the cash out to give to my son and decide I will figure it all out later and go on vacation. I only wish that was the last of it for that week, but not so much. So image? Smoke and mirrors baby. The real deal is far from perfect I'm afraid. But perfect is not nearly as much fun either. Later

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Do you ever borrow trouble? I borrow trouble. I sometimes worry about stuff that hasn't happened yet. I think I mentioned I take the prozac. This is one reason why, because I borrow trouble. I took my 11 year old daughter school shopping the other night. She will be in the sixth grade this year. So you know what that means...next year is 7th grade...and you know what that means...Middle School. Wah waaahh. Better known as JUNIOR HIGH SCHOOL to me. I HATE Jr High School. I have already put a son through the so called middle school and it was as painful as I remembered it to be when I attended my self and now I have a GIRL getting ready to go. Yikes. I have an analogy for Junior High I have shared with many of my friends and here it is. I think Junior High School is like that part in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (not the one with Johnny Depp...the old one) when they get in that fabulous boat on the chocolate river and they are all excited for the boat ride and it starts out fine and then it starts moving faster and faster and then they shoot through a tunnel where the walls are crawling with spiders and snakes and scary things all around them and they are horrified and screaming and then all of a sudden they exit the tunnel into the light and they are fine, everything is fabulous again and all they want to do is get off the damn boat and move on. Isn't that exactly how Jr High School is?? You are all excited to go and get the heck out of elementary school and you think it's going to be so fabulous and then it's just the scariest, most confusing and horrible experience of your short life and all you want to do is get out of there and move on. Anywho, after school shopping that evening I had a nightmare about Willy Wonka chasing me through Olympus Junior High School and I woke up sweating. But the sweating could have been a hormone thing too. Yes my friends, life is good! And that is a good reminder to me that I don't need to borrow any trouble, I have plenty on my plate right now! Later!