When it Rains It Pours

My husband and I carpool to work. When we passed the gas station we realized that it had gone up thirty cents a gallon overnight. When we started home today it had gone up another ten cents. Now you know why we carpool. It gets old somedays sitting at work waiting on him to pick me up after everyone has gone, but it sure saves a lot on gas. Eventually we made it to work, and within the first hour, I could tell there was a bad luck cloud over us today. One of our health aides made an error in judgement at a patient's house, and because she had done this once before, was fired. Sharing an office with my boss, I was privy to the conversation she had with corporate over whether or not she could fire her. She hung up the phone and turned to me and said, "She's gone!" Then she had ME call her and tell her to come in to the office. She seemed very happy to get to fire her. I wasn't feeling as chipper about it. For one thing, I knew the girl who was going to be fired, having worked with her for several years at three different agencies. I like her. I do admit though, she screwed up royally, and if I was in my boss's position, I would have to terminate her, too. I called her and gave her the message. Her first question was, "Am I going to be fired?" I hesitated and said, "I don't know." Which was a lie. I did know. However my boss was standing there looking at me make the call, and I was afraid to spill the beans in front of her. Later, when the girl came in to the office, I got up and went out. My boss came back looking for me to come in to "witness" her firing. I asked the office mgr if she would go, and she agreed without any hesitation. Maybe I should have gone. I've done it so many times before. Heck, when I had my own business, I had to fire a guy once. (He took it very well, thank goodness.) But I couldn't look at my friend knowing she was fired, and I had lied to her about it. I'm going to miss her being there. It makes me realize how little security any of us have. Screwing up could happen to any of us any day, since no one is perfect. All afternoon, the other people in the office teased me about leaving when it all started. They said, "Hey we didn't know you could run that fast. Show us how you did that again." It got a big laugh. I told them I had been called the angel of death enough at my old job. As the admin assistant, any time my boss called a worker into his office and then called for me, and I responded by walking in and closing the door, they knew the ax was going to drop. I didn't want to be the angel of death today. Now I'm debating calling my friend to tell her I'm sorry. I think she's probably very angry, so I may give her a few days to cool off and then call. Overall, it was a pretty shitty day.

Trusting Eyes

My doctor ordered an MRI, because since my ear surgery, my hearing is worse in my ear. I had never had an MRI, but knew basically what they were. When I arrived at the hospital, the valet parked my car for me. Nice. Then I went to registration. The lady who registered me asked, "You're not claustrophobic are you?" and I replied, "No." She completed the registration and sent me to the department where the test would be done. When I signed in, the lady at the desk said, "This is a closed MRI. I hope you're not claustrophic." I shook my head, not quite as confident of my answer as I had been with the first woman. When they called me back, and I saw the MRI machine, the lab tech asked, "Are you claustrophic?" By now, I wasn't so sure. I asked, "How long do I have to be in there." She said, "Well your doctor has ordered three scans, one is done with dye, so all together probably around an hour." I thought I had heard her wrong. I looked at this small tunnel, and asked her again, "I'll be in THERE for an hour?" "Yes." I was feeling a bit faint and I hadn't even started yet. I climbed onto the table, and she covered me up to my hips with a sheet, all the time talking, "It gets hot in there, so I won't pull this up very far. I'm putting ear plugs in your ears. MRI's are very loud, like a jackhammer." I was dreading this more every minute. Then she put a helmet type thing on my head with a visor, and began to move me inside the machine. I closed my eyes. I thought it had always been my answer for having to ride through scary houses at the fair with my sister when I was little. If I didn't look, I wouldn't be so afraid. Finally the table stopped and I was inside. I tried to think about other things, but every now and then my thoughts would come back to being in that tunnel and I'd feel panic rising. I'd breathe slowly and try to relax. I don't know how long I was in there the first time, but it seemed like hours. Then they backed me out just enough so I could see light, and I felt the needle with the dye go in. It hurt like hell, and I don't mind needles generally. (When I looked at it later at work, I had a big dark purple splotch three inches across so I knew the guy must have botched it somehow.) When he started me back into the machine, I felt the panic really start. I just didn't think I could take another long period in there! I reminded myself that if I stopped them, I'd probably have to do all this over, so I started trying to take deep breaths again, with my eyes closed so tight they hurt. I lay there a long, long time. I had thoughts that maybe they had all left for the day and forgot I was in there. I thought of horror movies where people are buried alive. All these thoughts I tried to shoo away but they kept coming back. Finally after a long, long time, I opened my eyes. The top of the machine was about two inches from my face. I kept trying to breathe but no air would go in. Then I looked upward again, and I caught a glimpse of a strip of mirror, long and narrow above me. In it, I could see my eyes. I knew those eyes. They are one of my favorite features. They are large and green with long lashes. But the best thing about them was how familiar they looked. I began to relax. I felt almost peaceful again, and I started breathing again. I've always heard it said you should never trust anyone who won't look you in the eye. I never look anyone in the eye. All my life I've had "lazy eye" and numerous doctors, eye exercises, patching, etc never helped, so I was always self-conscious of the possibility one of my eyes could drift while looking at someone. Of course, I can control it when I think about it. But when my eyes are tired, or I'm concentrating on something else, they wander. I know it looks weird and freaks some people out. I try to pretend it's not happening and most people have enough manners not to mention it. Today though I looked MYSELF in the eyes, and found something there I could trust. I saw the strength I didn't know I had.

Just Happened to Notice

You know how you go through your day at work very busy, and before you know it, it's time to go home? Well today, I decided not to race through my day. For one thing, I'm close to being caught up, and the things I have to do this week are not overwhelming like they have been in past weeks. So today I worked at a slower pace, and I began to notice things.
We have an office dynamic much like the movie "Office Space". Certain people play certain roles. My boss, as I have said in a previous post, is the pious Christian. Most of his day is spent looking down his nose at someone else's comments. (How is it you can have your nose in the air and look down your nose at the same time?) We have one girl who's the office clown. She's loud, always laughing and joking and making noise. Sometimes she's very funny, when I stop to listen. Most of the time I tune her out. Then we have one lady who is grumpy all the time. When anyone asks her about her day, she's likely to bite off a head. (She's one of those women the other girls whisper about....you know...."She needs to get laid...BAD!"
But other people were not all I noticed today. I started noticing how I fit into this scheme. How do other people see me? I even asked a couple of them.
I prefer to work alone. I don't like to be in the middle of a loud discussion or big group gathering. If given a choice, I'll take the desk in the back room every time, even if it's smaller and darker and has no window. I don't find a lot of things funny. I don't laugh much. I am friendly. I always speak to the people who come through. I ask how people's days have gone, especially those who have been "out in the field." So I was told others see me as nice but quiet. Ok, I can buy that. At my old job, when we had our annual Christmas party, I'd always be the one who offered to sit out front to answer the phones. (a bit anti-social).
The thing that did surprise me was one friend's comment about how people see me. She said some of the women are "intimidated" by me. She said they know I used to be a teacher (so what?) and I give off an air of being stand-offish (stuck up?) It's not the first time my quietness or shyness has been mistaken for being stuck up. Been accused of that before. If I'm not joining in the office cliques, then obviously it must be that I think I'm better than they are???? That is the way some people take it.
I hope that people who work with me will take the time to get to know me, which I admit is not an easy task. I don't open up like some of the women do. But when I come to trust someone, I'll tell them plenty. It just takes time.

Not Sick, But Tired

I'm not used to the busy pace of working 9-5 anymore. It's getting better but I come home exhausted every day. Catching up on sleep on the weekends is something I look forward to. However, lately I've been having strange dreams and I wake up more tired than when I went to bed. Last night, something evil chased me. The night before, I dreamed I was having a very long, very emotionally charged conversation with an old boyfriend. The thing with this was, this was a guy I don't argue with normally. In fact, we got along really good, and were friends for years with our off and on relationship. So where this draining conversation came from, I have no idea.
People seem to handle stress in different ways. I tend to block things out pretty well. If something is hard for me to deal with, rather than talk it out, I run. It's my "take the easy way to the nearest exit" survival technique, and is much easier than the more mature "stay in there until it's resolved" tactic. I realize I do that, and it's something I am working on. However, having this coping mechanism means I have left a long laundry list of things in my life unresolved. Friends I wish I'd kept in contact with, family members I just can't deal with enough to resume relationships, and a lot of things I should have said but never did.
Working with nurses all day who deal with dying patients, one thing is certain. People who are dying usually do a sort of life review, and the unresolved relationships are where the regrets are. Not the big deal I didn't take that could have netted big bucks, or the job I turned down that would have been great, but it's the people I should have told, "I love you and thank you for the memories we made together" but didn't.
I've heard when people go through 12-step programs they are told to go back and make amends to people they have hurt. I think that would be the one thing that would be harder than anything. Maybe that's how they get people off their addictions, by having them do things that are even more difficult to deal with.
If it seems like I'm rambling, blame it on the lack of sleep. :-)

Would this bother you?

Today I decided I had enough to say to do TWO blog entries. Been quite awhile since I've done that.
I have something happening at work that I wonder how others would respond to. My boss is a very religious man, evidently. Each week we have a weekly staff meeting, which he opens in prayer. Then there is a mandatory status meeting each morning in which he prays. Then we have a team meeting in which our company doctor attends, and even with him taking time from his patients to be there, my boss insists on a long drawn out prayer.
Now I don't really have anything against prayer. I think anyone can believe anything they want to. But all this prayer in meetings I have no choice but to attend, bugs me. It also bugs me that he prays soooo long while many of us sit there and just wish he'd hush already. I don't think the business office is the place to push religion. What do you think?

Interesting Conversation

It was a strange day. I decided with gas prices the way they are, I'd start riding into work with my husband each morning, which means I get there about thirty minutes early and I leave about thirty minutes later than everyone else. Most of the time I wait alone, and I don't mind. It's quiet and peaceful in the office with everyone gone and the answering service picking up calls. Today, one of the male nurses stayed late doing paperwork, and then decided to wait with me until my husband arrived. He's a black man in an interracial marriage, and they have had some problems, like most couples, but I think in some ways their problems may be increased by their differences and the attitudes of their families. He said he loved her so much, that he began his marriage giving into whatever she wanted to do. He said it served a two-fold purpose. One-he made her happy and two- he didn't make her angry. ha. Such as it is with a lot of women. Me included.
He said she talked him into buying this old fixer-upper house, but the first time he saw it, he thought, hell no. He said it looked dreary and dingy and like a lot of work. She had her heart set on it though, so he didn't voice his objections. He said it ended up being a money pit and they sunk over 30K into it before he finally said enough. It was a long distance from where they worked, too, besides the expenses it incurred. So he became resentful. He said he finally realized that he had no one to blame besides himself, because he could have spoken up, but he didn't. So he said from now on, if she wants to do something he feels is a bad idea, he's going to say so. He said had he done that in the first place, she would have gotten mad, but would have been over it by now, and they'd have 30K more in the bank.
This led into a discussion about what women want. He said they want a man to let them have their way, but at the same time they want a man who's not afraid to stand up to them. Of course, that's his opinion. In my experience, I want a man who's not bossy, who is open minded, who is free to share his opinion which I will take into consideration. I think on the big things which involve us both, if either one of us is vehemently opposed, then it's a no-go. However, if it's something that involves me or my job or my life, then his opinion is taken into consideration and then I do what I think is best, even if it differs from him. And I don't want an opinion I don't ask for. Some men have a heard time with women who don't take their advice. I've had guys I've dated get mad over it. But my instincts usually play out pretty well, and even when I make a bad decision, it's better in that it's my decision, my mistake. I don't think any woman wants some macho bossy guy telling her how to run her life. I know I don't. Been there, done that, kicked him to the curb. So I think he's going from one extreme to another. Letting her call all the shots for the both of them is not good. Neither is stepping up to argue with her about everything. I think if it's come to that, they've lost some of the respect for each other they should have. I couldn't make a decision that would make my husband unhappy, any more than he could do that to me. However, I know he'd sacrifice for something that really meant a lot to me, as I would for him. Guess that's what is meant by give and take.

Wimps of the World Unite

Ok, I admit it. I've always been a wimp. I have also been called a doormat, spineless, and a few other choice terms. My daughter says her "people pleasing" was inherited from me, and I can almost guarantee that she is right. I will go out of my way to keep people from being mad at me, or to escape from others when they are confrontational. I hate conflict.
Once, many years ago, a woman in our office was having a bad day, and decided to take it out on me. When she first started on me, I just sat at my desk and stared at my computer screen. This seemed to infuriate her even more. Then she started yelling. I, in my infinite wisdom, decided to try to calm her down, but everything I said just added more fuel to her fire. Finally, after I sat shaking in my chair and deciding I was very near tears, I got up and calmly walked into my boss's office and said, "You get that woman to leave me alone or I'm going home, and I won't be back." To which he called her name, very loudly, and took her into his office for a closed door come to Jesus meeting. She came out and stormed past me, but from that day she was nice to me. Other people in the office were shocked that I took that off her. Many said I was much much nicer than they would have been. It wasn't being nice. It was being terrified to speak up for myself.
My parents screamed at each other a lot when I was growing up. It was a huge relief when they divorced, and I learned you can go to sleep with yelling going on in the house. Maybe that's what caused this fear of conflict. I don't know.
But I've been told many times I need to learn to be more assertive. Today I did just that.
I've mentioned that I've just started a new job. One of the other secretaries decided to dump all the stuff she didn't want to do on me. The first day, she cleaned off her shelves and dumped piles of stuff onto my desk saying, "This is yours to do now." Later the first day, she said, "Do you have a copy of your job description?" And like a patsy, I said sure and showed it to her. She said, "Oh good, it says filing. Here." She dumped an accordian file, stuffed full, on my desk.
Well she was out of town last week, and I decided to read HER job description. When she got back, she found the box of pagers on her desk. This was one of the jobs she dumped on me. Having new pagers activated, changing out batteries, replacing defective ones, and keeping up with who has which number. Well it was on her job description and no where on mine does it even mention pagers....She wasn't happy about finding them back on her desk, and when I returned from lunch, they were back on mine. I mustered up all the courage I could find, and took them back to her. I said, "I moved these in here to you, because pagers are on your job description, not mine, just like the filing was on mine, not yours." She said, "You expect me to do the pagers?!" I said, "Of course." And I walked away. She huffed and puffed a little but when I left today they were still on her shelf. I felt so brave!
And it only took me forty-nine years to grow a spine!

You Want to do WHAT???

Ok, today's subject is a controversial one. Recently, I saw a rerun from the King of Queens where they had bought a new bed, and until it arrived, they had to sleep in twin beds. The amazing (?) thing was, they grew to love the twin beds, which surprised them both. However, it sure upset their friends and it was assumed twin beds meant marital difficulty...
I have always enjoyed every part of being married except sleeping together. No I don't mean sex. I mean sleeping (ZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.....). I've been married a few times now folks, so it's not just sleeping with one specific person that bothers me. It's sleeping with ANY person.
We grow up having our own beds. At night we settle down to sleep and it's a peaceful thing. If we want to roll up in the covers or throw them off the bed, it's our choice. No one has to worry about tossing and turning. If you do, you only bother yourself. If you want to turn over a thousand times or plump up the pillow a thousand times, it's fine when you aren't bothering anyone.
However, sleeping together, you hesitate doing any of those things. My husband realizes I have a problem, and if we go to sleep at the same time, he goes right to sleep and I never do, so he sits up and watches tv later until I get to sleep, then sneaks in. Of course, the first time I wake up during the night, I am usually unable to get back to sleep. Sometimes I get up and sleep on the couch or in the guest room. Most of the time, I just lie there and think about how exhausted I will be at work the next day.
Why is it society thinks twin beds mean problems in the marriage, and why do we worry about what anyone thinks? Sex doesn't have to stop because you don't sleep in the same bed. Heck, we had sex when we didn't even sleep in the same house! Twin beds seems to be a big taboo. Couples are afraid to talk to each other about it. If they do get twin beds, they don't want anyone to know (Oh my God, honey, you've got twin beds! When did the trouble begin?)
Well I'm getting on my soap box today to say sleepless married folks, unite! Maybe Lucy and Ricky and Rob and Laura slept in twin beds, not because of the censors, but because it was more comfortable! ha.
I want a twin bed! My own bed. With my clean crisp sheets that don't get crumpled up or wadded up or tossed about. Where I can stretch out or curl up, or wiggle and turn all night if I want to! I want to be able to get to sleep and not have to worry about someone else turning over and waking ME up. Have I told my husband any of this? No, of course not....he'd think we were having marital problems.......

It's Almost Friday....

It's almost Friday....it's almost Friday...it's almost Friday....thank GOD it's almost Friday. Can you tell how my week has gone? My diet went out the window after the second day of doing three peoples' jobs at work, and the stress that goes with that. I felt like cussing out a bear and then eating him. ha.
I had a couple of people write and ask me about the publications my stories will be in. The book my first short story is in comes out October 1st. The link to it is in the margin. You can preorder it from Amazon. It's called HerStory: Things I Learned in my Bathtub.
I also have another story coming out in a book called, Rocking Chair Reader- Small Town Christmas, coming out closer to Christmas (late fall). I also have one story in a book coming out next Spring, called "Letters to my Teacher".
I'm still writing some, submitting now and then. But now instead of me trying to make writing my career, it's back to being something I love to do when I have the time. So it's fun again. I love to write on the weekends curled up in the recliner with the laptop....Thank God it's almost Friday.....It's almost Friday........

Gripe Gripe Bitch Bitch

When I wasn't working, I missed it. Now that I am, I'm marking off the days of each week hoping Friday will hurry up and Monday won't. This has been the week from hell.
My so called "help" that was suppose to come in to "help me" this week has proved her true value by spending all day today on the phone with her friends or on the computer playing card games. Oh, and did I mention that she didn't even show up yesterday?
I used to own my own business. Dealing with this lazy assed girl made me remember why I closed it. Hiring people to work who actually WILL work is nearly impossible. I'm glad I'm not a supervisor. I'd fire half of the staff and start over. ha
My husband came to eat lunch with me today. I couldn't even leave to go do that because she was so dumb I didn't think she could handle things while I was gone. Ok, enough venting.
My little doggie, Rags, misses me being here with him during the day. When I get home, he won't leave me alone to even have dinner. He stays glued to my lap. I feel like a neglecting mom.
My son is trying to make up my absence by playing with him during the day. That helps.
I want to take a vacation and just get on a plane and fly wherever I decide to buy a ticket when I get to the airport. Wouldn't that be wonderful!
I got an email from the editor of the book my story will be in. It comes out in October! Whooopppeeeee!

I have days when....

Facing fifty before long, I have days when I realize how fast the clock is ticking, and how each year seems to fly by faster than the last. I see people never make it to retirement to enjoy those things they put off for so long. I see patients at the hospice where I work dying, younger than me. And I realize, really realize that life is going to be gone one day and when it comes will I have regrets? Will I think I wasted my time? Will I wish I had done things I didn't do? That I didn't do things I did? Will there be things I really wanted to see or do I never got an chance to see or do? If I stay on the same path, and don't change (I hate change) will I wake up one day and wish I had taken a few detours? Or an entirely different road?
I know I can't be the only one who does this. Sarah Breathnach wrote a book a few years back called "Something More" in which she said, "People basically fall into three catagories, the resigned, who live in quiet desperation; the exhausted who live in restless agitation, and and then the rest of us, who perpetually wonder what the "something more" is we so desperately crave." I think there's a lot of truth in that.
When I was a young girl, I wanted to grow up, get married, have children, and be a teacher. I did all those things. I got married several times (ha!), had three great kids, found out I hated teaching, started a new career as a writer in which I met my definition of success, and now just seem to be floundering again. I'm not unhappy. I love my husband, love my kids, am reasonably happy with my job, my home, etc. But I always feel like there's something more. Maybe as humans we are just never satisfied. I think sometimes I'm not ever completely content, no matter how good things get. It can be very frustrating.

Long Time No Write

Well, it's been an experience, working again. I come home absolutely exhausted. The day flies by, because I'm so busy. I like the people I work with, although some of them I really don't know very well. There are three secretaries, each doing different jobs. My job is mostly in the clinical side, which means I basically take care of anything to do with patients, like going to team meetings with the medical director, auditing charts, making sure our t's are crossed and our i's are dotted.

The other two girls are mostly in accounts receivable. Next week, the other two secretaries are going to Dallas to learn the AR stuff, so I'll be the only one in the office. My boss is getting prepared though. She has one Home Health Aide on light duty from a broken ankle, so she called her in to answer the phone that never stops ringing. She called in another girl to help do filing, which there are mountains of all the time. That leaves me to do everything else.

I started making my Monday to-do list before leaving the office today, and it was very depressing. I feel swamped and overwhelmed, but I guess that's no different than I've felt ever since I got there.

We don't have our computers yet, so eight people are sharing two very very slow ones, which is ridiculous, but the new ones come next week, along with a whole crew to move any software we want moved, to rewire the office for faster internet, to network them, and all that technical stuff. Then our trainers for the clinical part will be here the end of September, too far away for me. We need them now!

I thought today of something I really needed to blog about. It's something that happened to me a couple of months ago, when my balance problems from my ear surgery were very bad. I couldn't walk without stumbling. At home I managed ok, but out in the open, especially in parking lots or stores, I had no nearby point of reference and it was like I couldn't get my bearings enough to even stand.

My husband bought me a cane, which I had to admit really did help a lot. We went one morning to IHOP for breakfast. I didn't want to take the cane in, but he said that was what we bought it for, times like that, so I did. Everyone waiting in the lobby turned and stared at me when we went in. Then when the hostess came to seat us, she looked at me and spoke very deliberately and slowly, "I'll walk slow honey, we'll take our time." She said it in a voice like I was deaf and retarded as well as physically unbalanced.

Everyone throughout the restaurant turned around to look at me, or that's how it felt to me. Then the waitress made a big deal of saying loudly, "Can you manage in a booth or would you rather me seat you at a table?" I was so embarrassed. I mumbled something about the booth being fine and slid in and quickly hid the cane under the table. I've thought about that experience ever since. I knew the cane was a temporary thing, that I'd get better. Some people don't. And some have even more obvious aids than a cane. I think I got some glimpse of the way they must feel on a daily basis. I think the experience made me much more empathetic to physically challenged people.

I no longer need the cane. I only have some slight stumbling when I get up too fast. I jumped up too fast at the office the other day and almost fell over my chair. My boss laughed and asked how much I had to drink at lunch. I just laughed. I didn't explain about the surgery.

I think I'm going to like working. I know I'll like the money. My middle son still has a year and a half of college left, and his savings won't pay tuition that long. My youngest son just moved and has no furniture, and is tapped out from all the deposits, etc. This money will give me a chance to help some. Plus I'd like to be able to give to some causes I support, like Planned Parenthood.
So it will be nice to be able to do that, too. I won't be making that much, but I should have a little left over for things like that.

I'm so glad it's Friday. I'm going to sit on my butt and do nothing all weekend and enjoy every minute of it. A few writers I know, and I, started a blog. We have a continuous story going on there. Each of us takes turns writing a paragraph. I started it off, and have added a couple along the way. I think it's an intriguing story, and it's fun to see where it goes.

I miss having time for writing. I guess once I get my computer at work, I can do that some during slow times. I won't have any vacation or sick days until six months, which sucks royally, but I can take off a day now and then without pay.

Well that's about all the news on the home front for now.

Almost Monday

The weekend flew by. My son and I talked and worked out our misunderstanding. And that's what it was, a misunderstanding. I guess he didn't mean it the way it came out, but there were a few things we laid on the table, so things are better now.
I'm sort of excited to be going to work tomorrow. I bought some new scrubs for work, and some new shoes.
My daughter came by today. She had been to a baby shower and she had on a skirt like Rory from Gilmore girls and she looked so cute. I can't wait to get this weight off so I can buy new clothes. She had a new pair of shoes from Payless (my price range) that I loved, so I ordered me a pair after she left. They'll be great for next summer.

Working and Kids

I guess I see now why some people have a hard time with retirement. When you work, you think about the things you could be doing if you didn't work. When you stay home, you don't seem to able to think of enough things to keep yourself occupied and you miss working.
My first two days went great. I have a great desk, a large bookcase. My new computer is due in next week some time. Most of the things on my job description I understand. The ones I don't should be covered by the trainer coming in from Dallas. All my co-workers seem very nice, and some stopped by to tell me how glad they were to work with me.
I feel needed at work. I feel like I am accomplishing something that really does help other people. So as my youngest son says, "It's all good."
My middle son has a girlfriend and she's coming to see him for a weekend soon. We haven't met her, so my husband suggested we might take the two of them out to eat one night while she is here. So I told my son we'd like to do that. And he said, "No." I said, "Why not?" He said,"Because I'd end up having to say something to you." I said, "Say something to me about what?" He said, "Your being you." I was hurt, and even a day later, I still feel hurt. He seems to have a chip on his shoulder with me sometimes. I know I wasn't a perfect mother to him growing up, working, going to school full time, raising the three of them by myself and trying to have some sort of a social life. He seems to resent that. I just don't know what to do. I'm just deeply hurt. That's about it. Job's going good, some family things are not.

Life is Off Pause

My life is officially off pause. I went for an interview today and before I got out into the parking lot to leave, they called me back in and offered me the job. I start today. It's the same company I worked for before except with new management. But that means I still get to work with my friends I knew there before. My title is Patient Care Secretary. I've done most of the duties of this job before, too, but am sure there will be some training.
I've been up since 230 AM because I can't sleep. First day jitters. If you read this today, send good thoughts my way.
I washed and ironed my clothes, packed my lunch, got my day-timer up to date and filled out all my paperwork. I'm ready to go. And it's only 3:58AM. Wouldn't it be nice if the enthusiasm we have for new things lasted? I'm sure next week it will be all I can do to drag my hiney out of bed by 5:30, but for now, I'm running on adrenaline.
Best part of new job? I get to wear scrubs. Not dress pants, dressy blouse, and those damn panty hose. Scrubs will be like working in pajamas. My sweet husband said we'd go this weekend and get me some more socks and tennis shoes so I'll have an extra pair. Isn't he sweet? He's excited for me over my new job.
Now I'll have MONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYY again.

You Don't Send Me Flowers....Anymorrrrrre

When my husband and I were dating, he sent me flowers every week at work. The girls at work used to tease me about how I'd better enjoy it because after marriage, it all stops. I assured them he would not stop it just because we married.
Then we married in March of 2003, and he still continued to bring home flowers. However, they became a little less frequent than once a week. But a funny thing happened. As time went on and I spent my time clipping stems and arranging flowers, I began to enjoy them less and less. Of course, I always acted appreciative and mentally kicked myself for feeling the way I did. I mean what girl wouldn't be thrilled to get flowers that often?
As we walked through the grocery store the other night, we passed the flower arrangements in the case, and he leaned over and asked, "Would you like some flowers?"
I realized when he said this that it's been awhile. How long, I really don't remember. I know I got some around my birthday but that was in May.
I shrugged and said, "Not really." I decided it was time to be honest.
He looked puzzled and said, "Why? Because I asked instead of just surprising you?"
I said, "No, just don't want any right now."
I guess I should have said something else, but I really didn't know what. He looked totally confused and I realized this must be one of those moments men talk to their buddies about.
All of a sudden she said she didn't want flowers, when she's always loved them. What gives?
After we got home, I thought about telling him I was sorry and I'd really love it if he got me flowers, but by then, I figured I'd blown it.
Maybe the flowers were too much of a good thing. I don't know.
I'd love to get a love letter though.