dude...

i've had a busy weekend. but it's only monday night, you say...well, cork it.

saturday i got up, did a few things around the house, and took a nap until about 1. was up for a while and then my friend rene came down, and we sat around chit-chatting until heading over to the MOA for dinner and shopping. of course we ended up at a barnes and noble, because that is how we operate. (:

went to sleep at 1130. got up at 355 to deliver said friend to the airport, where i'll be picking her up next weekend. got home, went back to sleep for a few fitful hours, then got up and lazed around since my eyelids simply would not function correctly. worked on a story that's been brewing for a few days and then took ANOTHER nap, was up for a bit and back to bed.

monday dawned bright, early and icky. work was a mess when i arrived, which was compounded by the fact that i was there for an hour before i had a meeting. then another meeting.

the first meeting was run of the mill--reminders, updates, mainly administrative stuff.

meeting number two was totally different and entirely unexpected. my job is being eliminated.

by the end of the week.

i have four options, and i'm lucky to have those four, since apparently other offices around the country had to do the same thing with this position and they had no where else to put people...so they just got pink slipped.

behind door #1: i can discuss a severance package.
door #2: i can go back to client services, and answer phones from angry people.
door #3: i can go back to conversion, and set up payrolls.
door #4: i can go into a totally new position, in which i would deal only with accountants and actually leave the office to visit them half of the time.

guess which one i'm going for?

yes, #4.

as with any other announcement made in corporate america, i have one night to decide if i want to do this--they were going to talk to me friday but i had to leave early due to overtime. odd how that works, isn't it?

and also, again as with anything done in corporate america, i couldn't breathe a word to anyone else in the building, since this was between me, management, and the human resources lady on speakerphone.

so as soon as i got out of the meeting i called dan and hashed it out. he knows me often better than i know me--i got done babbling like an auctioneer selling off the world's remaining cattle and he said, "are you asking for my approval? because you've already made your decision."

of course i was still in panic mode so my response was, well, what is my decision?

so another new road. since i started at adp five years ago, i've made three job changes--one from client services to conversion, and then from conversion to part of the sales team. now i would be moving back to client services, but would be working more with the sales team.

in the end i hope that it all works out for the best. my only fear right now is who is going to take over all the various and sundry job duties that comprise my current position. just because you eliminate the title does not mean that the rest of the job just disintegrates. i'm not sure that management has considered everything quite yet. but tomorrow morning they're announcing it to the building at large, and i have another meeting to dice up the job i've had for the last year.

in fact, it hasn't even been a full year yet.

i don't mind change--usually i revel in it. i enjoy moving things and rearranging them, making them all new and shiny. i like pioneering, which is what this new job position would be, since it's brand spankin' new, and only 2 other people in the country are doing this, as of now. i'd get to define the job, as it were.

it's just the rug, slipping out from under your feet. the rung of the ladder, splintering as you ascend. the escalator, moving faster than you can keep up with it, each stair disappearing into the next, until you are really not sure where you are going: up? down? sideways?

heroditus said that you can never step into the same river twice--i think that life is handing me this lesson again, as if i have forgotten from the last time it was meted out.

and i suppose that the river itself is familiar--it's just the knowledge, the understanding, that it is no longer the same water it was moments ago.

dude. that's deep, for a monday.

to work or not to work...

to say that i don't want to go to work tomorrow is an absurd understatement. i'm not sure if there is a good way of saying the same thing, without using much harsher language.

and i know i feel this way after all vacations. they begin so slowly and roll along and then they are over, before i can contemplate being comfortable. i feel as if i have finally shrugged off all the stress of employment and now it is sunday eve and i have to get up and return to my gray cubicle tomorrow.

i cannot say it will be all sad. i do enjoy the people with whom i work, and i enjoy the satisfaction of completing a job. but i think that perhaps the stress of said job is from what i cringe.

part of me wishes daily that my bank account was filled to brimming with lottery winnings, and that i could simply remain home, perhaps have children and a big yard with a garden that smelled of fresh turned dirt and green beans.

but it is a wish; to make the wish reality i would need to either win the lottery itself, or just keep working, with my head down. my only problem is that the keep working mentality has driven me for all my life, and i am no where nearer any of those lottery dreams, despite all the hard work.

***

one of the things i love to do is cook. and bake. i like to be in the kitchen, cubing chicken and feeling the handle of my wooden spoon press into my palm as i stir.

yesterday i had the urge to make blueberry muffins. it was the thought of those berries, hot to bursting, oozing in sweet dough, that drove me to turn on the oven and bake. after i dropped dan off at the airport, all i could taste was that tangy-sweet bubble popping open in my mouth. i made six muffins, and over the course of the day, ate 4. this morning i ate the last two, savoring that longed-for taste.

today i longed for silence. i had to leave the house only to go to the grocery store; otherwise i have been reading, sipping lemonade and eating some casserole prepared for this week's lunches. it's been quite relaxing. and the majority of my collective cell mass would prefer to remain here for all of next week, too.

***

i have only a few more days off this year--in a few weeks, the day of and the day after we see "spamalot", and another week in i think october--in which i can indulge this urge to be schedule-less and shiftless and altogether liesurely as i rise and make my way through the day. i know that a month of this would not be enough--i would crave more time, more space.

for many months now i have craved the solitude of this house--silent except for a cat, dreaming and snoring--this solitude that i can usually only find in the wee hours of a sunday morning. it has been so wonderful, this quiet.

perhaps it is that which i will crave, that silence, that i will put away in a box on a shelf for the time that my next days off come upon me. during the week, when dan and eero are here, there is noise, which cannot be avoided and which is a comfort to someone who grew up in a household of six. during the week there are phones ringing and women gossiping and the sound of the copier, thudding along.

i really don't have much choice in the matter--there is no question of working or not working. i enjoy too much having a roof over my head and the funds to purchase blueberries, and pay for the electricity with which to bake them. the mobility of going to the library, where i can find books that soothe my soul and offer balm.

perhaps this is simply my oasis, this week. i can almost feel and see the disruption that work brings, ahead of me--as if the smooth pavement will give way to rocks and gravel and potholes. it is this that pains me, i think, this foreknowledge of what is to come, when the alarm blares monday morning.

lemons

it's friday, the last day of my actual vacation before the weekend, when i'll have to start prepping for actually going back to work next week. my house is very, very clean (yay!) and i was able to get rid of two bags of clothes and two boxes of assorted household crap.

there's lots i never got around to doing: the cedar chest is still untouched, i only called my sister and not my sister and nathan, i haven't written at all...so on and so forth. but i'm trying to stay positive, and for me, i jumped a big hurdle this week.

yesterday i got up the nerve to drop off my car at the mechanic. the coolant hides somewhere (it's not dripping, it's not burning off...) and then of course my poor shiny new radiator has to overheat, and i have to stop, pop the hood and dump in premixed antifreeze.

it's quite the opposite of neat and tidy, and of course there's a horrible smell of toasted almonds to contend with.

anyway, four months ago i had the aforementioned shiny new radiator installed. the month before that it was a radiator plug, and my 62000 mile flush of various fluids. today i was told my water pump is leaking, and there's a bunch of belts that need replacing. the belt thing i knew about, and the leaky water pump explains the consistent lack of coolant.

all that said, i'm not sure i feel like springing for another 700 clamshell fix. despite the fact that there's few miles on it, it is a ten year old machine, and time tends to wear things down. so replace or trade in? that is the question.

today after hearing the verdict i called and spoke to my dad, dan, and my sister. it still took me two hours after that to place a call to the mechanic and let them know i'd pick it up tonight.

reasons for the wait are conflicting. it's hard to explain. i feel like an irresponsible car owner, to say no, don't fix it. i feel like i'm taking away someone's business, someone's paycheck, by not having the car repaired. i feel juvenile to be at this crossroads yet again, just over two years into owning the car. i have this need to pay it off and then look for a new vehicle. however i am tired, sick and tired tired tired, of driving around in a ten mile radius, terrified to go further in case something goes awry. it's exactly what happened with my mazda--it's like life being rewound and replayed, only in a different color choice and shape.

***

i suppose secondary to that is the guilt i feel having to rely on others for transportation, and the guilt i feel at being over three decades into life and still owning a lemon.

but i think of my mom's mantra about said fruit and optional products of this fruit, and i think that perhaps sometimes even if you are expecting a refreshing drink, sometimes you have to be flexible and change your options. perhaps instead of an ade i will have just lemon zest. or perhaps instead of that i'll have lemon bars, or a pie topped with airy, velvety meringue.

either way, i have to keep thinking this. i have to. otherwise i get mired down under the dumptruck load of lemons that life hands out, free of charge, to everyone regardless of race or creed.

morning minus coffee

it's monday morning, and i'm at home, grubby and in my pajamas, because this week is my week off.

today i've got an exciting schedule: clean kitchen, clean living room, clean carpets (this due only to the fact that princess-pukes-a-lot has done her royal hairball duty only too well), clean up the laundry (which is clean but in baskets yet) and probably clean my self.

tomorrow i'm planning on working a bit on the cedar chest in the garage, but only if i wake up early enough and am motivated enough to put on more work-ready clothing. re-finishing a cedar chest in a night-gown might be cooler but it also could be a tad messier.

and then after that...who knows. probably read the books to which i've become addicted--yes, another romance novelist, mary balogh. hers are quite well-written, and remind me a great deal of austen and georgette heyer, with a great deal less fondling and mushy crap, and a great deal more history. i've learned quite a bit about the Battle of Waterloo in the last few days; i think this is in part due to the author being a teacher herself. but it never gets overly instructional, and her characters are just so lovely to read that once i pick up a book i have a very, very difficult time putting it back down.

then again, this happens to me quite often. i get sucked into one thing for a long period of time. in probably two months or so i'll have moved on and be obsessed with a different author.

who knows. it's hard for me to develop habits, and it's hard for me to stick with one passion solidly for more than a month at a time.

i suppose it's cyclic, just like the rest of the planet--seasons, tides, day and night, the whole shebang. sometimes it's just plain frustrating, though, to be so at the whim of your brain.

which i'm sure is the case for everyone, every day, perhaps some moreso than others. dan lately has been swinging about in a mixed state for a few days--days in which i remind myself constantly that it's probably nothing i've done, and it's up to him to fish himself out of the morass. just as this week, left unscheduled and unwritten, it is up to me to create the structure by which i'll pass the days, and not anyone else.

i think about all the things i could do on my vacation, my week off, and i get entirely overwhelmed. i need an oil change, i need to have my car looked at for the millionth time. vice versa i could shop for a new vehicle...also annoying. i've been putting off calling nathan and my sisters and my parents. chores, chores, chores that have been neglected in the last few weeks of mid-year year-end. spending quality time with my lightly snoring cats. reading and writing and walking.

of course this is a july vacation, which for me, anti-heat girl that i am, means that anything that means going out-of-doors and not immediately into the comfort of AC is just plain old disgusting and out of the question. anything over 80 degrees is simply out and out wrong, in the land of kim.

so here i sit, overwhelmed at 1015 am, trying to decide which item to begin first.

i think my lack of motivation is partially based on the title of this diatribe--i'm without my usual brain booster, coffee. so perhaps i'll start there, and brew up something to wake me up, or better yet, dash off scrubby to caribou and have someone there whip up my wake up.

worth

i struggle often with being worthy--of people, of things, of attention. i have a difficult time rationalizing spending money on my self. usually my purchases are the marked down bits, the ones where you spend a good solid hour picking off the orange clearance tag when you get said object home.

it's a habit in my family to do this. we take pride in one-upping each other with "i-got-that-for-less" tales. i'm not sure if it's genetic--my father loves flea markets, and my mom is an inveterate garage-saler--or perhaps just learned. who knows. but it translates into my life and often makes it difficult for me to see things i buy for myself as necessary, with the obvious exception of clothing and shoes, which i still will only shell out when items are half-off.

take, for example, my new bracelet.

at work recently i've notice that i wear rubber bands around my left wrist on a regular basis. they come off of whatever folder is crossing my desk and just remain there, indefinitely. i've considered buying a bracelet, but i'm picky about jewelery. i suppose the devil is in the details, and perhaps my being drawn to shiny things just means that satan is somewhat sparkly.

today i indulged in three (yes, three at one time!) brassieres, which are a necessary evil that need not be too terribly vile, even for those of us who require valkyrie-supported battle garments just to keep the girls in place. after that i spent an astronomical amount of time in the jewelry department, shopping for a birthday gift for a friend. i found the perfect item and then thought, when was the last time i spent any time looking for something for me?

i thought about my ubiquitious rubber bands and decided that i'd look for a bracelet. after half an hour of looking at all things ovoid and stretchy and clingy, i was ready to call it quits. i kept rejecting the ones that are hard and require the dislocation of your thumbs, and the ones that are so tight once on that they leave a dent in flesh.

"can we help you, ma'am?"

usually i say no. usually i decline, figuring that someone else needs assistance more than me. but today, riding high on my handful of hangers, i said, "yes."

she showed me the sterling silver chains and i'm now wearing one, sitting here typing and feeling slightly more elegant.

this is by far the most expensive piece of jewelry i've ever bought. my two rings were gifts--my right hand pinky ring is a spoon ring that was a dollar at a church rummage sale, and the ring on my left ring finger is a small picture of sea, mountains, bird and sun, made of different stones. it's unique and lovely, with a thin band. but it was free.

i have oodles of earrings, purchased on sale, and necklaces from the clearance rack. but nothing new, nothing bought just for me full price. twenty dollars--i am worth that much, i concluded, standing there in bright ceiling lights. i'm worth enough to purchase something just because it's pretty, something that makes me happy simply because it is unnecessary.

cravings

this week has been about cravings--cravings for all kinds of odd bits. randomly yesterday i wanted to sit at my desk and listen to my new amy winehouse cd and eat a package (yes, the whole package) of cherry pull n' peel twizzlers. instead when i was done with work, i was whisked north into the city, to meet an old friend.

teresa was at a conference for the blind; she's a grad assistant to a very well-known professor in the blind community, and they were staffing a game called "power showdown." there's not a lot of games out there for people who are blind; this one is a cross between air hockey and ping-pong, a large, oval table with edges rising about six inches on all sides. in the middle there is a large board, poised over the surface, to block hits that could potentially harm your opponent. players are positioned at each end, with a hard wooden paddle and a protective glove for the hand holding the paddle, protecting a net at their end. the ball has a distinct rattle, and games become quite explosive--the ball shoots off the table, a guide dog jerks to retrieve it, or the ball hits the middle board with a crack.

as i stood there watching two sisters slam the ball back and forth i considered how much fun the game looked, and how, if playing, i'd be at quite the deficit: when you're sighted and playing, you're given a blindfold, so that you are on par with your opponent.

even half-deaf, i can't discern where sounds are--they are everywhere, all at once. sirens in the distance attack from north and south, east and west. someone in a neighboring townhouse shuts a door and i jump, thinking that it is in our own home. when i was a kid and received my very own radio, with ear-buds, i popped them in and immediately wondered what the attraction was: it was a stereo radio, so in my right ear i heard the drums, and in my left ear i felt a rumble, as if all the music was there.

on the way home, i opened the window and shut my eyes, rested my head against the seat as dan drove. i felt the wind brush over my shut eyes and the hot glow of lights as we passed gas stations. i thought about walking through life with my eyes shut, and never really knowing the full depth and breadth of color and beauty.

at once i corrected my own thoughts. my life has been an experience in half-heard noise, in missed jokes and lost sentences.

do i miss those words, those moments? perhaps i would, if it was something i craved daily. but when you live at a different pitch and level than your neighbor, you become comfortable with the place you are in.

one of my ex-coworkers was nearly fully-deaf; she had hearing aids that did help considerably, but despite having them, she always said she forgot to put them in, or would just leave them on the counter on purpose, because it was frustrating to have to listen to the whole world and not just her own small and familiar corner.

i am sure that it would be nice, to fully hear. and i cannot possibly equate my experience with someone who is fully deaf or blind, and cannot pretend to crave the same things they might. i can only say that standing there, watching that ball shuttle and slap against the paddles, i had a depth of understanding about my own cravings--that the craving to taste licorice was transitory, as transitory as breath, while the craving to hear and not feel that i have missed things--that is a craving that perhaps i will never satisfy, but that in itself perhaps is satisfactory.