How do parents do it?

alphabet (Photo credit: Jim Davies)

Holy moly, I remember watching my nieces and nephews when they were little…and I was much, much younger.  It didn’t seem as difficult then as spending the day with a kid is now.  I’ve spent a big part of the day with my little neighbor, Claire…you’ve probably heard me talk about her before.  Sweet, funny, adorable and exhausting.  I took her and her mom to one of the food pantries here in town (there’s a whole upcoming blog in that experience).  She’s very well-behaved and quiet, that’s not the problem.  She just has so much energy…and, uh…I don’t.

After we got back, we went our separate ways, or so I thought.  Pretty soon there came this hesitant little knock on my door.  When I opened the door, there was Claire…her mommy said she could come over for a while.  She wanted to pet the kitties.  It took a while, but they eventually got to the place where they’d stay in the room with her.  Spook even allowed Claire to rub her head.  Shocking, but true!

Claire wanted me to show her how to write her name.  When I started to write it, I was using all caps.  Well, she informed me, in no uncertain terms, that we didn’t need those in her name.  Then it dawned on me, they use lower case letters…okay, I got it now.  Lower case it is.  And she recognized the letters.  See, I don’t think we did anything like that in kindergarten, but maybe we did…it has been a long, long time ago….in a galaxy far, far away…oh wait…that’s the exhaustion talking.

She had to go through every single cat toy in the house (well, not the ones under the fridge or the washer…but only because she doesn’t yet know about them), asking me which cat liked which toys the best, when they got each of them, what their favorite colors are, and so on.  Then she wanted to know why I leave them by themselves all day when I’m at work.  I mean, how do you tell a 5-year-old that you leave your cats home alone because they’re cats?  Ahh…but then came the clincher.  She said she’d be glad to watch them for me while I’m at work.  Aww…right?  I told her Spooky watches Scout since Spooky is older and that seemed to satisfy her.

Before she left, she asked me if I was working tomorrow.  When I told her I was, she asked, “And you’re going to see if you can find Dora for me?  I’ve never had Dora.”  How can I resist?  I sure hope we have something to do with Dora in the store.  If not, I guess I’ll have to go hunting…

Now…I have to go to bed…I’m worn out!

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How can I learn to be patient?

Patience (Photo credit: AngSocialMed)

I am not the most patient person in the world, not by a long shot.  And I feel guilty when I’m impatient with someone…well, most of the time.  Last night, my lovely new neighbors were outside yelling at someone in a car and someone threw something that hit my door.  The cats scattered in fear, that’s how loud it was.  Without thinking of the consequences, I rushed to the door, unlocked it, and jerked it open, giving them all my evil stare.  It must be a pretty frightening look because the people in the car took off and the dear, sweet neighbors went inside.  These people have only lived here for about two months and this kind of behavior happens every week or so.  Just a tad annoying.

How does this have anything to do with me not being patient, you might ask.  I mean, I didn’t go out there with my gun and threaten to shoot them all…oh wait, I don’t have a gun (I’m thinking that may be a good thing).  I didn’t call the police although I do think someone must have because they drove by not too long after the incident.  I didn’t go over and pound on their door and yell and scream at them…okay, a couple of reasons I didn’t do that…I’m not really the yelling and screaming type and I tend to be a little cowardly when faced with a group of people who might want to do me bodily harm. But I also didn’t go over and try to speak with them after everyone had calmed down.  I didn’t explain to them that I’m not all that healthy, I have difficulty sleeping, and I’m still working 40+ hours a week.  I just kind of stewed for the rest of the night.

When I left to go to work this morning, there was a note taped to my door.  The lady apologized to me for being too loud, saying her younger, under-aged sister came over wanting her to go out and buy her and her friends some alcohol.  That’s what precipitated the argument.  Okay, so it still wasn’t right for them to be yelling and throwing things, disturbing everyone who lives in the neighborhood.  But…she did apologize and that’s more than most folks are willing to do.

Hmm…after reading this again, I think I’ve been fairly patient with them over the past two months.  Maybe a better question would be how can I learn to peacefully confront people and talk things through?  Or am I being naïve?  Oh well, wouldn’t be the first time.

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Dazed and confused…adventures in medicine

Old hospital (Photo credit: urbanlegend)

Seems to be my permanent state right now…confusion.  I lose track of what I’m saying when I’m trying to talk to someone (who knows what my writing is like…I reread it multiple times and am still not absolutely certain that I’m making sense, so…if you can’t figure out what I’m talking about, now I have an excuse), I can’t remember what I’m supposed to be doing (thank goodness for lists…just write it down when I think about it), and the date?  Oh my!  The date, even with the date displayed prominently on my computer and  calendars all over the place, I still can’t keep the days straight.

And today exemplified that.  I had a doctor’s appointment with a pulmonologist today.  I’ve had the paper my doctor’s office gave me, with the info, on my fridge since my last appointment so I wouldn’t forget it.  I woke up feeling pretty awful, wishing I didn’t have to go see a doctor today, but knowing that I did.  So I eventually got ready and left in plenty of time to arrive early enough to find my way to the office.  You know how it is when you go into these big buildings and don’t know your way around, right?  So I knew I was going to have to stop and ask for directions and then find my way to pulmonology.  No big deal.

I stopped at the desk right inside the entrance and asked the lady there where I could find this particular doctor.  She looked at my paper (the one they gave me last week at my doctor’s office) and told me I was in the wrong building, would have to go out and drive over to the next drive and go in that building.  Well, okay.  I walked back out to my car feeling more than a little confused.  The next building over is where my doctor’s practice is.  I was pretty sure (even in my confused state) that the specialist I was supposed to see wasn’t in the same building as my doctor.

So I called my doctor’s office and spoke with one of the receptionists.  She laughed about it and said that lady must have been confused…there is a Doctor Trueblood in their practice, but she is definitely not a pulmonologist.  So I told her where I was and she said I was in the right place, that she didn’t know exactly where the pulmonology department was but she was pretty sure it was upstairs.

Alright, I walk back into the building, stop and ask the same lady where the pulmonology department  is.  She tells me to take the elevator upstairs and then she points down the hall and says I need to go all the way to the end of that hall.  I find the elevator, go upstairs and start in the direction pointed out for me.  Then I stop and look at the department listings and arrows.  Hmm…if I do what the lady downstairs says I’m headed in a different direction than if I follow these little arrows.  How about we try the arrows?

That just might be the only good decision I’ve made all day.  I walked right to where I needed to go and stopped at the desk to let them know I was there for my appointment.  The very nice lady there looked it up on the computer then looked at me.  She said, “Well, unfortunately your appointment’s for tomorrow.”  And she apologized…like it was her fault that I’m a dork.  And to compound how goofy I must have seemed, I asked her what today’s date was.  She told me it’s the 7th…hmm…the little paper in my hand tells me my appointment is scheduled for the 8th…what do you know?  She’s right and I’m crazy.  So I thanked her and told her I’d see her tomorrow.

I guess a couple of good things came out of this…now I know where I need to go tomorrow…and the lady at the pulmonology department desk will have a funny story to tell her co-workers and family…

I’m telling you, all of these drugs I’ve been on have to be messing with my mind…or am I confused about that?

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Writing, I’ve got to get back to you

Ernest Hemingway Writing at Campsite in Kenya – NARA – 192655 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I have to admit, I’ve been more than a little neglectful of my writing lately.  And it’s not that I don’t have ideas about what to write.  Or that I have writer’s block.  Nothing like that.  I’ve just been lazy.  Okay, yes, I do work full-time and have a couple of part-time gigs on the side.  But heck, wasn’t Ernest Hemingway swamped with all of his jobs too?  Oh, what?  He wasn’t?  Oh, well then…how about Edgar Allen Poe?  Oh, that’s right, he was just a little touched and had way more tragedy in his life than I want in mine.

Well then, how about Emily Dickinson?  What?  She just hung around the house?  Seriously?  Hmm…must not have had a lot of bills to pay, no car payments and the like.  This isn’t really making me feel any better about myself.

But then Emily probably didn’t have all of the distractions that I’m faced with…you know, Facebook, Pinterest, millions of online blogs, ebooks…how in the world am I supposed to get anything done when all of my friends and family keep posting new pictures of the kids and the cats and the dog and the vacation?   And don’t forget all of the political crap cartoons that everyone keeps posting…deleting all of that from my feed takes hours every day.

Yep, that’s it…once this election is over, I’ll have all kinds of time to write…well, except then we’ll be getting into the holiday season and work will be nuts (what am I saying, work is nuts every day anyhow) and then it’ll be Thanksgiving and Black Friday…and then the big countdown to Christmas…whew.  Once that’s over, I’ll definitely have more time to write…well, after New Year’s Eve and that big drunken celebration…and then…no, wait!  I’m going to put a stop to this right now.

November is NaNoWriMo month…just suck it up and do it, Patti…no excuses, no whining (well, okay…I won’t be able to do it without a modicum of whining, because face it, I happen to be a world-class whiner).  Get another book done, or at least well on the way.  You’re a writer, gosh darn it (don’t you like that?  kind of reminds you of what’s his name on Saturday Night Live, huh?)…act like it!  Write!  That’s what writers do, so put your pen to paper and go (or, in my case, fingers to keyboard because even I can’t read my hand writing)…let your thoughts flow through your fingertips and do what you do best…write!  Do it!

 

 

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I have an addiction…

nail polish collection (Photo credit: daftgirly)

…yep, I’m going to come clean today.  I have a serious addiction that I’ve been putting off dealing with.  I’m not really sure how it happened, how I got into this mess…but maybe that’s how most addictions start.  At first it’s just one little thing…one little thing that seemed to bring you joy.  That one thing didn’t really cost you much and didn’t seem to do any harm.

Then you found yourself taking another step or two down that dangerous road without giving it any thought.  No big deal, right?  Just enjoy yourself, life is difficult enough and filled with stress..anything you can find to alleviate that can’t be bad…or can it?

Is it a bad thing when you find yourself dreaming about your next fix?  When you notice everyone else who seems to crave what you crave?  When you find yourself discussing how it makes you feel so much better?  That’s when it hit me…this isn’t normal…and it can’t possibly be good for me.  Then the disbelief strikes…how in the world did I get myself into this?  And how in the world am I going to escape the clutches of my addiction?  Can I go cold-turkey?  It just doesn’t seem possible at this point in time.

I feel such shame…why do I have to own (and use) every single shade of nail polish ever created???

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Time for Camp NaNo, August edition…

camp nano wallpaper (Photo credit: ulianne)

Wow.  I didn’t realize I’d pretty much taken off the entire month of July from just about any form of writing.  What’s up with that?  Did June’s Camp NaNo wear me out that much?  I don’t really know what happened.  I fully intended to take a few days off then get right back into blogging and working on my book, revision and all that jazz.  Then I got sick, didn’t even go online for several days (I know there are folks who don’t go online every day, I have people tell me that at work all the time…but I’m definitely not one of them…), was still dealing with the kitten and trying to keep Spook from killing her (whose idea was it to get Spook a kitten anyhow?  She was perfectly fine without a kitten, she didn’t want a kitten, she still doesn’t want a kitten), and work…what can I say about work?  Or what can I say about work that I haven’t already said?

So…anyhow…it’s a new month and I’m doing the August Camp NaNo…kind of another book in the same series of books…today was the first day and I got in 2096 words…and some humor at that…do you ever wonder if other people will find what you’ve written to be as funny as you think it is?  I mean, really, I think some of what I wrote today was pretty darn funny, but what if no one else does?  Ah well…I can’t worry about that right now…that’s a worry for much later in the process, right?

I’m back…hopefully providing a little light entertainment as well as sharing my adventures in writing and well, in life, I guess.  Thanks for sticking around while I was on hiatus!

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Old friends and precious friendships

Image via Wikipedia

I was hard at work today when someone walked by me and told me to get another register open.  I looked up and saw a couple of my oldest, dearest friends.  They were in the big city doing some early Christmas shopping and stopped in to pick up a few things.  Then we set up a time to go to lunch and they left.

Of course, when they came back to get me for lunch, I was on register.  I got someone to cover for me and headed out the door.  We ended up going over to O’Charleys where we enjoyed a very tasty lunch and got caught up on all of the happenings in our lives.  What a pleasant way to spend lunch, sure beat eating a frozen dinner in the break room!

I’m always pleasantly surprised at how easy it is to be with Cindy and Kevin even after not having seen one another for quite a few months.  That’s true friendship for you.  And I always count it as a blessing that they know the worst about me and want to be with me anyhow~You can’t ask for more than that.

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Oh, how I hate good-byes

Image via Wikipedia

I do, I really do, hate to say good-bye…I’ve never been good at it, it always makes me sad and usually makes me cry.  Of course this all goes back to those childhood issues of abandonment, but that’s a story for another day.  Today I want to talk about saying good-bye to a girl (her choice, instead of being called a  woman…she said woman is how you refer to her mother, not her) I’ve worked with for twelve years.    During that twelve-year period, we’ve talked about a lot of things, shared a lot of jokes and laughter, indulged in a little gossip, shared recipes and make up tips, cried a little, argued and made up a few times, and just generally developed a good relationship.

Susie started out working full-time in the receiving department, but our company began having more and more of the products we carry delivered directly from our warehouses, so that position was done away with.  In the reorganization, several positions were combined into one part-time position which Susie accepted…it wasn’t an easy transition for her…it wouldn’t have been an easy thing for anyone to accept…but she did the job well.

She eventually decided to look for a full-time position elsewhere and found a job in a medical manufacturing company that would be full-time and provide her with benefits.  When she told me she had turned in her two weeks’ notice I all but called her a liar…I thought she was joking.  But, come to find out, she wasn’t.  So now it’s time to say good-bye.  Today is Susie’s last day with us, truck day of all days…now that’s some kind of dedication to make that be your last day.

I sincerely hope this new path that Susie has chosen to take will provide her with happiness, that she’ll enjoy her new job and quickly make new friends among her co-workers.  Transition is never easy, it’s often more comfortable to remain in our current situation even though it isn’t exactly what we want.  So Susie, I just want to say, “Thanks for the memories.  I hope we’re able to keep in touch and maybe now we’ll have the time to go do some shopping in Nashville, Indiana or Greenwood.  Best of  luck to you, girl.”

I have a lot of really cute pictures of Susie, but she said she’d hunt me down and kill me if I posted them…I figure this one should be okay since you can’t see her face.  I have never been able to understand her aversion to having her face posted online (hmm…Susie, are you hiding from the FBI or in the witness protection program?), she’s just so darn cute!  I’m really going to miss you, Susie…love ya bunches.

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The secret lives of cats

I’ve always had cats.  When I was growing up, we had dogs (my brothers) and cats (me).  I like dogs, don’t get me wrong, but cats are just different…more independent, less work, and maybe just a little sneakier.  I was heading out to work this morning, had closed the front door when I saw the newspaper in the yard (why the paper guy can’t put it on the porch, I’ll never know).  So I walked over and picked the paper up, opened the door to throw it inside…that’s when I saw my little cat (Spooky) chasing the older cat (Goldi) up the stairs.  Goldi was hissing the entire time, but still running away from Spook.

I always felt kind of bad for Spook because she’s never been around another cat that actually liked her.  Now I’m thinking there might be a reason for that.  Makes me wonder what else she gets up to while I’m at work.  Early on (she’s almost 5 years old now), I would come home and cabinet doors would be open.  I always found it difficult to believe that I’d forgotten to close the doors, but didn’t know what else it could be.  Then, one day, I saw Spooky opening a door (for no apparent reason).   Then all the open doors made sense, in a spooky kind of way.

Spooky digs her way up under the comforter on my bed every day.  I can always tell she’s done it because the bed’s messed up.  I make my bed every morning before I go to work, come home and find it semi-unmade…crazy cat!

Do you think cats or dogs have secret lives?  Do they do things to be sneaky, things they don’t want us to know about, things they know they’re not supposed to be doing?  And does it really matter?  They’re still such an important part of our lives.  They become part of our family and I wouldn’t have it any other way!

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It’s a cat’s life

Image via Wikipedia

Whew…I had to be at work at 5 am this morning…that is just way too early to have to be out and about, unloading a truck, hands freezing, wondering if we’ll ever finish.  Well, finish we did… two and a half hours later.  Then sorting, stocking, trying to make time to get some of the important things done in the office (oh you know, important like payroll for instructors, HR files, time edits so people will get paid for the hours they actually worked…those kinds of important things)…finally the day ended (hmm…was just reminded of those old school days, when a loud ringing bell let you know that the day was over…not sure where that came from…could be because my absolute bestest friend from grade school on stopped by the store on her lunch hour today).

When I got home, I was greeted at the front door by old Goldie…think she just wanted food though.  And I could hear little Spooky crying upstairs, wanting to be released from her prison (I had to lock her in the bedroom today…thought the maintenance guys were going to stop by and do a little work…well, no…not today…so, prison for Spooky again tomorrow…poor little girl.

After doing some of the daily chores around the house, I walked into the living room and what did I see?  Well, a big lazy cat taking life easy…like really, what else does she have to do?  It’s not like I expect either of them to work for food.  Now there’s a thought, maybe, when I go to work in the morning,  I can drop them off at the corner with their little signs asking for donations for food…something along the lines of…

Can’t find a job in the local cat house …will work for seafood…help a retired mousecatcher…need milk for the litter of kittens at home

Of course, none of that’s true….neither of them has ever looked for a job, they won’t work for anything, food or otherwise, they’ve never been mousecatchers and there is no litter of kittens…just sayin’!

Seriously, does this look like a cat who has to work for a living?

And this one thinks she’s too good to even look at the camera.  What can you do when the kids grow up feeling entitled?  Who can you blame?  And how can I expect them to get out and get a job at this late stage?  I guess I’ll keep letting them sleep all day, eat me out of house and home, not clean up after themselves…I don’t know how to break out of this vicious cycle.  Woe is me, I am an enabler…the kitty enabler…I guess it truly is a cat’s life…I know they’ve trained me well!

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