Another Grocery Rant

What is it about grocery shoppers that shop in the middle of the aisle at the peak shopping times. Do you typically drive in the middle of the road? Why on earth would you feel compelled to occupy the complete width of a grocery aisle when 500 other people are also doing grocery shopping and needing access to the very same aisle from both directions?

And then to abandon said cart in the center of the now inaccessible aisle while you leisurely read the label on something you probably have in the cupboard at home anyway is beyond comprehension. Regardless of whether there is heavy or light traffic, would you stop your car in the middle of the road or would you pull over?

Is there such a thing as grocery rage?

Meeting Advisor

Some are wondering how yesterday went. Not well.

First, may I say that I think I have an aversion to opulent offices… you know the ones… lawyers, accountants.. the kind with dark wood, highbacked seating, lots of glass and shine, and in-date magazines. Give me a stark doctor’s or dentist’s office any day. Despite the fact that I wouldn’t want to be in either place, at least if I’m waiting in the stark office I know that however unpleasant the procedure, I’m probably going to feel better when its over.

Anyway, the Advisor was close to a half-hour late for the appointment, so I had plenty of time to sit and wait in that cushy waiting area, pondering my own pending panic attack.

I’m not sure I like Advisor. It turned out to be a sort of subtly condescending sort of an interrogation. Interesting.

It is perhaps no surprise that my situation is more complicated than what’s typical, so because I could not receive the assurances I needed on certain matters, nothing of weight got signed. All of that is now delayed until Easter. (I haven’t really figured out how I feel about that timing as I consider Easter both a symbol of new beginnings and also a sign of death – in either case, the stress marches on).

But, I am fine. And eventually everything will be fine. And I’m deeply touched by the notes from those who are thinking of me.

Change

Today is the last day of March break. Tomorrow, for all intensive purposes, Rainbow & Dolittle’s lives will go back to their regularly scheduled program. I will wake them up, make them breakfast, pack their lunch, see them through the chaos of hair & teeth & clothes, and get them out the door. Things, for them, return to normal.

But not for me. (Please note that beyond what I blog in this post I will not write of this again from a personal perspective). This week, in all likelihood, I will sign an official document that indicates that I have failed. I hope and pray that no one else inadvertently falls with me… that the “regularly scheduled” program stays pretty much regularly scheduled. I will lose many material things, and likely a bit of dignity, but I will retain what I truly value in this world. I have come to realize that as long as I have my family, and as long as we are all healthy and together, I have a treasure. And quite frankly, with a roof over our heads, oil in the furnace, food on the table, and a warm bed to sleep in, we are blessed beyond compare to many many people in the universe. I am thankful for each and every blessing.

Life doesn’t always turn out the way we think it will. Sometimes we work and work and work at something to no avail. But every experience is an opportunity to learn something, to hone skills, to meet others, to help others and/or to just be a stepping stone to some greater thing regardless of whether we see it at the time or not. I have no doubt that the place I am right now is exactly where I am meant to be for whatever reason or bigger plan.

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Just Because

I have a memory of being a little girl in the basement of the house where we lived, and my dad building me a cupboard for my tea set. I have no memory of the tea set. I have no memory of any of my toys with any clarity. But I remember how I felt when my dad told me that this object he was creating was for me. It was the action that remains with me to this day. A loving act of kindness. My father was doing something just for me. Not because I asked for it. Not because I needed it. Just because he loved me.

I do not have the ability to give my children a great many worldly possessions. Not that they don’t have anything – they do – but I’m sure it’s not like many of their peers. There are no outside lessons. There are no computer game systems. Purchases take planning.

I have two jobs (one of which is temporary, the other part-time). When the children hear that I am “working again” they are clearly disappointed. And it hurts me to have to be away from them as often as I am. But I’ve been thinking about that cupboard my father made. When the girls are grown and reflecting on their childhood, I hope that the prominent memory they recall is not the time I was away working. Instead, I hope they remember the love and the little things we parents do… just because.

What the???

So if you’re leaning forward to listen to something someone is saying and another person walks in and says “when you lean forward like that you look intelligent,” ….what do you think that means?

And what is an appropriate response?

Career Advice for People Haters

Here’s a tip for ya’….
if you hate your job,
and/or you can’t stand dealing with people,
and/or you think you are better than the people you interact in your work,
and/or if you have a bad attitude,
… do yourself and the whole dang world a favour and DO NOT work in a place that has “service” in the title. That includes “Computer Services,” “Customer Service,”and “Any Other Dang Service” you can think of. We “little” people do not want you answering our phone calls, serving us our food, giving us your condescending assistance, or “helping” us in any way. If your interpersonal skills suck, don’t work with people. It’s just that simple.

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Farewell to a Hamster

This morning, upon seeing that Oreo still remained sleeping after his great escape, I decided to see if I could get the little guy to stir (without actually touching him of course). I jiggled the cage. I thumped on his roof top. I stirred the woodchips with a pencil. Nothing. Oreo has gone to the great hamster wheel in the sky.

Given that it is winter here, and there is no hope in heck of giving Oreo a proper send off, his remains have been handled in a rather… um… undignified fashion. That said, we plan to give him a little ceremony in the garden at some point this spring. It will be lovely and truly befitting a dear pet, I’m sure.

Good-bye Oreo. And peace.