eRamblings

Craziness.

I have officially quit smoking. I feel good about it. I am happier. Hopefully the hard part is behind me, but I think not. I have this nagging feeling most of the time like I have forgotten something and then I remember, oh yeah, I haven’t smoked today. So far, I haven’t cheated, but I also haven’t presented myself with any opportunity to deal with temptation. I have cut back a bit on my eating too. I am trying not to replace smoking with food. It’s a delicate balance.

Work has cut back people and hours even more. I think everyone is running on vapors. I honestly don’t know how we will do it during the holidays, but I am sure we just will. I get tired of all the hard work and rarely a bit of recognition. I realize we are struggling, but hello we are so short handed. I can’t do everything. Thankfully I am not alone in my thinking. My peers also feel this. So I tredge on with no end in sight, but thankful I have a job.

I am still looking and interviewing for a second job. It is a lot harder than I thought. But I am determined.

I am still moving into those gorgeous apartments. So far, I have cleaned out a room - my bedroom. I have given to charity three heaping bags of clothes and shoes. Sooner or later I will have to tackle the other room - the crafting room/library (which is also conveniently my only other room). I will have to designate which books to sell and which to keep. Inevitably I will hate this decision remembering later that I had tossed a book I would now like to read. And I have asked for my mother’s help to go through all the scrapbooking stuff I have. It’s an ungodly sight. I can’t wait to have space. To be able to spread out. To lay on my floor and not have to move furniture, only to barely squish into that four foot space. To be able to have people over and not sit on each other because of only having a love seat. To be able to have a craft room that isn’t also my living room, office and library. Ugh, the excitement never diminishes.

Raindrop and I are doing well. (raindrop is the nickname my aunt came up with because I picked him out of a rainstorm of men) We actually ventured out the other night and ate a real dinner at a place where we didn’t have to look up for ordering. We had a couple course meal and glasses of wine. I was worried that if we ever got out and had to make conversation we might not be able to, but man we are just an easy going pair. I like that so much. I was even able to ask a few questions about his ex which I have wanted to ask, but just wasn’t sure it was the right time. He took it so well. Our nights usually consist of grabbing or making food and then hanging out by the tv or pool just talking and whatever or we hit the local pub to watch sports and drink beer. There just isn’t any stress between the two of us. Whenever I feel the crazies coming out, I have learned to decide is it worth the conversation or will I get over it - either way he is a good listener. He gets it. And OMG he knows how to apologize. I have also noticed, when I am around him, my brain is quieter. If I am upset when I get there, he lets me vent and then it’s over. Usually I can stay upset for days, but I forget when I am with him. It just doesn’t seem so important anymore. Still no labels, no strings, nothing but just two people enjoying each others company. If it doesn’t last, I am completely content to know that for whatever time period - I have really enjoyed every minute. (wow reading that last statement I realize just how much I have changed in the last year)

My apartment complex finally fixed my shower pressure - ABOUT A MONTH BEFORE I MOVE OUT - how do ya’ like them apples? I can’t complain though, really. I mean I love that I get a really awesome hard pressure, hot shower every time I want. It beats the year and whatever I dealt with the drippy shower. When I filled out the papers saying I wasn’t staying, I skipped the part about reasons why I was leaving. The girl at the desk said I had to fill that out because there’s a drop down menu. (PUHLEASE, a drop down menu? GASP!) After filtering through all the rude comments that came to mind, I filled in “amenities and location” because I really didn’t care if they knew why I was leaving. I am pretty sure they knew whether they want to admit it or not.

I am not shy.

Or quiet.

Ahem

More from Wordless Wednesday

I find it amazing that not a day goes by that a mother tells me her kid is, “Holding on just fine” or “They don’t sit” or “She/He won’t fall” when I ask if their kid would mind sitting down in the shopping cart because we have kids fall out and smack their head on the tile floor so often.

Just two days ago, I was sent running to the first aid to get an ice pack for a little girl, maybe four, who had fallen out of the cart. When I got to her the bump on her forehead was massive and I felt so badly for her. We try to prevent that from happening by asking the children to sit down in the cart or use the seat belt when in front. We have to do it according to our corporation, but I like that we do that because it is for the safety of the children shopping there.

I usually approach the child and motion with my hand (up and down movements) and whisper “will you sit down for me sweetie? thank you.” The kids will usually start to sit down, but it’s the parent’s who stop them and react with attitude. Again this kind of reaction isn’t even 90% of the parent’s I interact with, but it still shocks me when the parents have no care for their kids safety or can’t comprehend that I am asking for their safety not to threaten their parenting skills. I get that people don’t like me telling them what to do, but wow is it that big of a deal if the kid is already in the process of sitting to just grit their teeth and allow the kid to be safe?

Why is it that parent’s think that bringing their kids to a store about ten minutes before they close and letting them run amok destroying the place (specifically the kids run up and down the aisles knocking crap off the shelves or pulling toys out of the boxes and leaving it all over the floor) is an okay thing to do? I realize it’s a public place. I realize that it’s a distraction to the kids for the parent’s - kind of like a park, but one they can visit at night. BUT REALLY?! Any idea how much it annoys me when I have less than an hour to make the store look beautiful?

Our tv at work officially died a few months ago which is apparently devastating to most people I work with. I on the other hand was thrilled. It was always loud and people argue over who is watching what.  For what seemed like not long enough our people were talking to each other, real conversations and reading, then talking about the books. It actually seemed like a collaborative work space. Today I walked in and there on top of the fridge sat the most colossal flat screen. Hideously ugly and smug. God how I missed the endless shows of Jerry Springer, Judge Judy, Bonnie Hunt and all the other brain cell killers that are played so loud I can’t think straight. Is it really so hard to find other ways to spend your lunch break?

Ok so it is officially Halloween in the stores. Ugh! My least favorite holiday. I hate all the horrible scary stuff. And gross stuff. Just awful. I was cleaning up the section the other night and I had one bat in my left hand and a spider in the other, trying to carry them without touching them. So my fingers were carrying the little tag that attaches and I was carrying them as far away from my body as possible. I look up ant there is this boy about seven years old maybe, watching me with this quirky grin on his face. I said, Hey these are SO gross! He giggled and was completely laughing inside at my grossness. It was cute. Kind of a reverse life. I am supposed to be the adult where nothing really phases me.

I love my fellow bloggers. They are incredibly kind and write such family friendly posts, but aren’t there any people out there that are a little like me? Recently divorced, working women? I have been searching and wondering. I have found millions of wonderful mommy bloggers, but what about more that relates to my life? Is there a gap in this market?

I can’t believe how friggin old I am. (lol)

Today I turned thirty-one. I am no longer thirty. I am thirty plus one. Not in my twenties anymore. Really not. I am in my thirties now.

Am I officially an adult now? Am I considered old? Older?

It’s weird when I think about it because I don’t feel thirty-one. For so many years, people have been telling me how young I look and pretty soon I start to believe it. Then all of a sudden I wake up and I am no longer in my twenties. I am no longer a child; a young person. I am officially the adult - not just in mind, but body too.

This past year was very hard on me. I separated from my husband and we eventually divorced. I got a new job, a new place to live - a new life. I got in a car accident, broke my wrist and was out of work for over 3 months.

In the past year I have learned so much about myself.

There are certain things I like about being this age. I can go home and have a beer after work - no stress about it. When I give someone advice, I honestly feel like I have a leg to stand on. My body feels like it finally caught up with my head.

Things I know about myself.

I am a kind person. I see the good in people. I have a lot of love to give. I have a really good work ethic. My family means everything to me (and this SO includes my kitties). When I don’t take time to do my hobbies, I get cranky and forget the important things in life. I frustrate myself when I compare myself to others. I am very competitive. I can handle/do way more than I think I can. I would do anything for love, but not that. (smirk) I am my worst critique and probably too hard on myself. I am a good cook when I take the time. I am a bit of a goofball even though I don’t want to admit it. I say things wrong, I speak faster than my brain thinks, and occasionally I sound stupid, but that is okay. I LOVE to read, take pics and writing is a huge. I am very passionate about certain things which means I can be irrational and emotional.

Things I am not too thrilled about.

I am not where I want to be in life. I don’t make the money I wish I did. I don’t have the apartment/house that I wish. I am not married and starting a family yet. I haven’t traveled as much as I wish.

BUT I AM HAPPY

Really and truly I am happy.

I like who I am. I have bad days, but way more good ones. And I am learning - learning that life isn’t about where I am in life or what I am doing. It is about living each and every moment as if it were my last. Be in the moment. Taste every piece as if it were the only thing that mattered. Love with all my heart. Dance as no one was watching. Sing at the top of my lungs as if everyone were deaf (and they may become that way because of my singing). A kitty purr and cuddle is the cure to anything.I can only change the things I control - which is only myself and my actions/thoughts. Everything else doesn’t matter and will work itself out (or not), but worrying and getting upset won’t change a darn thing. Love with all my heart because though it may break, it will mend too.

Live each and every moment as if it were my last

Four days off

Should have been the most relaxing four days EVER

Instead irony kicks it ugly head

Call #1

My auto/renters insurance decided to cancel my policy without much notice (bastards) because when I originally got quotes and then authorized to have them as my peeps, they started two renters policies instead of one (in addition to my already auto insurance with them). So in the seven months I have been paying my bill on time, I (theoretically) haven’t been paying my full bill. Equals policy cancellation. BECAUSE THEY ADDED TWO (not one) POLICIES! When I call, they tell me they will review my account and get back to me. They call later that night to inform me that I have in fact, paid a bill way back when about a week late therefore incurring additional late fees that were never paid. Uhm - FUCK OFF! I told them I would immediately bring my account up to current (charge a $12 fee) if they would reinstate my insurance - albeit only one renters this time! They agreed. On Sunday, I receive a call explaining how my insurance, because of the cancellation would now be $30 MORE A MONTH!! Are you fucking kidding me????????

Call #2 -

My apartment complex left a note attached to my door explaining that I had a $10 balance not paid and as of the 4th of the month I would be incurring $50 a day late fees until paid. Hello, I have been paying the exact same amount for the past 18 months! When I called on Sunday, there was no one there that could access my account til Tuesday (as it was a holiday weekend) even though I would be adding $50 a day.

Call #3 -

I guess it wasn’t a call so much as my car died while driving home Monday afternoon. My dad (bless his heart) had to tow me (literally with a rope) to the car place and I had to leave my baby there all alone and broken. Sigh!

I don’t think I slept more than an hour Monday night with all the money I was suddenly racking up. WTF?! Really it sucks. I called my parents more than once to cry on the phone. I think they were getting a bit tired simply because HELLO WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD!!

In the end, I signed up with a new insurance company not only saving myself the $30 a month they wanted to charge me for canceling my policy, but saving another $40 on top.

My apartment complex worked with me and didn’t charge any late fees, but informed me that my water bill had in fact gone up this month. Damn!

My car survived and is in good shape without paying a dime. Thank you for a good warranty!

I realized tonight that I have retained one major thing from my marriage/divorce.

I don’t like confrontation. I shy away from speaking to people, people who are new in my life, about things that are important to me.

I hesitate bringing them up because I am afraid it will turn into an all out war like it did in my marriage. To no fault of my husband - alone - anyway. It was definitely both of us working against each other. But the fact that I would say something to him, that meant something to me and we would argue for days; it would be so hard to talk about even the stupid little stuff until that thing had blown over. Add to the fact that I always felt like my ex would say he would do something and then I would be disappointed when he didn’t. This happened so often that I know now, I will, without a doubt be disappointed.

I have created this stigma that if I don’t know how that person will react I automatically suck it in, bottle it up and try to ignore it. Occasionally I will let a bit leak out to test the waters, but realistically no one can read my mind so unless I follow it up and talk about it will never really get discussed.

I am also afraid of my anger. The anger that I had when I was marriage. It just erupted and I wouldn’t be able to control it. I would want to break things and yell at the top of my lungs. Even being aware of my anger, it hasn’t come close to that since I left, I still am scared it will rear it’s ugly head unannounced.

So instead of talking about it. I fester. It stews.

Then I over analyze. Which drives me insane as I will never truly know what they think until I discuss it with them - not in my own head.

Example - I invited some friends over to my parent’s house for a BBQ. Only one of which has ever met and hung out with my parent’s before. For the other it would be a first time. Initially they accepted whole heartedly. Then throughout the week they joked about not coming over because of such and such to the point where I gave them an easy out. Instead of taking it, they reaffirmed that they wanted to come, but from the moment those whishy washy things were said I thought, they aren’t going to come. Preparing myself for their absence. When the day came all of a sudden their truck was having issues and they couldn’t come. I was miffed because just the night before they had gone out with friends knowing their issues with the vehicle existed. Now I had to tell my parent’s that this friend of mine who I am fond of and spend a lot of time with and want then to get to know, isn’t coming after they had already accepted and my parent’s bought the food.

I love it when my friends get to meet my parent’s because they are such a big part of my life. I enjoy being with them and I want them to know who I hang out with. I like the easy atmosphere of an open invite to their place, but there always has to be a first time meeting.

Now this friend has the stigma that they were a no show. Not a great impression.

Throughout the BBQ I stewed over this issue, so by the time it ended I wasn’t sure I even wanted to discuss it. I felt it would benefit myself if I just never spoke to them again. But my other friend, the one that attended, convinced me to talk to them and figure out what was going on; if it was warranted; to tell them that it was important to me.

I conceded, but hesitant.

When I spoke to the friend they were adamant that they wanted to go and had the vehicle been working they would have attended. It was an unforeseen issue.  I mentioned that if they wanted to attend they could have asked me to pick them up so they could make an appearance for an hour or so and they go back to working on their car. They said they had thought about that, but didn’t think it would look good to my parents. I understand all that. I then (gulp) expressed my disappointment in their not showing up mixed with the jokes and previous nights endeavors.

Basically they conversation went really well. And damn it if I didn’t forgive them.

I am going to have to figure out a way to quelch my fear of disappointment and expressing my true feelings when it really matters.

I have tried to so hard to learn how to pick my battles and only really speak up when it truly matter that now I realize I haven’t spoken up really at all in quite some time. I have been hoping against hope that all will just work itself out and in doing so I am not being fair to myself or others because then I am unhappy and they don’t know why.

Sheesh this whole relationship thing, friends and not friends, is so much work. Add to the fact that I have some baggage -

I have this picture in my head of what my life should be like. What I want it to be like. What I wish more than anything it did look like.

It is my downfall.

My kryptonite.

It is what kills me each and every time something doesn’t go my way. When my expectations are too high - which is always.

I am getting better though. I am at least no longer in denial. I know that my expectations are too high. And in theory that alone makes them bearable.

The fact is though I still want that life no matter how many times I tell myself it is unrealistic to compare myself to others or to what SHOULD be.

God I hate that word - SHOULD. It should be banished from the Engligh language or maybe just my own language. I am a should-er. I am always putting pressure on myself because I SHOULD be doing something, saying something.

Today I sat down with my father and we went over my expense spreadsheet. Ugh. It just sucks to holy hell. My dad, thank goodness, is ever so patient with me. I asked for it. I wanted to find a way to get my ass into these incredibly heavenly apartments that I saw weeks ago and again today. It is my dream apartment right now and I WANT IT.

So the question begged, how do I get there?

I can do anything I set my mind to. (theoretically)

again with those dreams

OMG if you could see these places - a lap pool (hello i’m a swimmer), within walking distance to a nice shopping center, located close to major freeways, next door to my own bank (bc it’s mine y’all). The atmosphere alone is very urban, city like; so very my age group and yet maybe a little posh-er than I am. The kind of place I would feel more than comfortable lounging at the pool all by my lonesome.  The kitchen is frickin georgeous!!! Huge and so inviting and overlooking the living and dining room. So open and hey I want to have a get together kind of kitchen. Then there’s a room for all my hobbies and crafty stuff where I could actually pull stuff out and spread out to work and create. Then there is a master with a nice bathroom. And the patio would still be able to house Tuesday for when she wants to sit and watch the happenings. There is ironically a kitty in the apartment across from me and up one floor. They could be friends - from a distance. And it has a garage. A GARAGE PEOPLE!!

I kept doing the happy dance all day.

Then expense report time. Dear god, do I have some serious shopping habits that need to stop right now. I devised that I am an alcoholic, restaurant connoisseur and a department store junkie.  My mother, bless her heart, talked me down from the ledge with, “Honey, you never had fun in college and early twenties. This is your time to go out.” Or something like that. My bedroom looks like a Target ad - all I need to buy is . . .  kidding. She’s right though. I never really got out and had fun. Not really. Now I go out and have a beer after work. I hit the clubs with girlfriends. I watch Nascar with the guys. I mean I am having a really good time.

And it shows in my bank account.

I would be in the black if I stayed where I was. But what would be the fun in that. I want more. I want this lush, posh, chic, happening apartment city lifestyle.

I am going out tomorrow and getting a second job. It’s time to get serious. I just need a place where I can go for two to three shifts a week, nothing crazy, but enough to add a little jingle to my pockets. I know so many people who work two jobs. I can too. And I am thinking a bookstore because heaven help me, I love books. A friend of mine wanted to know how I would be able to work with all the distractions there. lol