Monday, February 27, 2006

Poor, Pitiful Me
Today feels like a mildly rotten day. It just seems like in my brain, the ideas that were once growing and fresh, today are dried and withered. Work's a drag because I have to finish my documentation within the next two days from the last 25 days. Sigh, procrastination. Then there is the knowledge that I need to go through and update every file and service plan by the 15th of the month, so even the mini-high of finishing will be a false positive, with only more paperwork at the end of the rainbow.

Earlier today, I found myself the mediator during a yelling match between a volatile mother and 15 year old girl (who was crying) and I was just sitting there mute. (How helpful, right?) In my living room are the pieces of a shelf I would love to put together to restore order to my bedroom. It remians in pieces, because my hermit neighbor would probably call the police about a hammer this time of night (10:30 pm). On the floor by my desk are the unfiled stack of bills I have paid, receipts for the last three months, what an ugly sight. (At least they are paid). Even the fact that tomorrow is going to be 66 degrees and sunny is tempered by the knowledge that at work I willl be so busy, my only chance to eat dinner is 2 in the afternoon, or after I'm off at 9 pm.

Alright, so you don't have to read, as I revel in my pseudo-misery. I imagine I will get over it soon. As Jess likes to say, "I'm going to kill myself!...[one hour later]... Today is the best day of my life!" or "I lost my favorite paperclip... my life SUCKS!"

Thursday, February 23, 2006

Back so Soon?

Yep, it's official. I am back from NC. It felt like a tri-part week between Dev and Kev's, Victims of Crime training, and the STL-life. Attended a group tonight for some families of murder victims. It was less "get in touch with your feelings" and more "uncovering the layers of corruption and greed that plague the metro-east." I'd love to see the truth blast those crooked politician, money-laundering, real-estate, strip-club robber-barons right into the holding cells in which they belong. "If you want peace, seek justice." -Pope John Paul II

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Yessss!

Well, I am gearing up to travel soon, Raleigh, here I come, and not a day too soon. Definitely have felt that familiar restlessness for the past couple weeks. Change is overdue. Need fresh perspective, fresh scenery and fresh faces (not that the familiar isn't great, it's just that I've reached the point I'm not seeing it anymore). Well, I'm "gearing up" a little early as I don't leave till Saturday, but I'm definitely on the downhill side of the week, just coast on through...

Herman Hesse on technology:
"And all this...would be of no more service to man than as an escape from himself and his true aims, and as a means of surrounding himself with an ever closer mesh of distractions and useless activities."


From "Steppenwolf: A Novel" published in 1927


Saturday, February 11, 2006

Oh what a change...

one day can make. Well, these last couple days have been a whirlwind. If I had my way, I would completely delete Thursday from the record, but if I did, I would have had a hard time understanding why my car was at work Friday morning at 9 am, yet I was still home in bed! So I guess I needed Thursday. Also, without the contrast of that hopeless feeling in my gut on Thursday, I wouldn't understand how joyous it is to know that God cares and provides as he did (Friday, but Thursday too, I think).

Thurday morning: While commuting, I muse self-satisfiedly that I am somewhat better than the masses who require cell phones for their lives, because... I'm not sure why; but something in me figures they have sold out, while I continue to hold-out. Ha!

Thursday, after staying an hour late, for a particularly frustrating session (for both client and myself), I go outside to start my car. Only it won't start. With a scowl, I return inside. A few phone calls (going straight to voicemail) later, I decide to have a coworker drop me off at the metrolink and then walk to the Delmar girls, and call them so they can pick me up as I walk.

After half an hour waiting for the metro train to arrive (in the recently arrived bone-chilling cold) I start to get tired, make that exhausted. I get on the train at last and make my plodding way back into the city. I cringe and maintain my personal "bubble"when the drunken "Blue-Collar Comedy" crowd gets on, laughing and chatty. I am neither laughing, nor chatty tonight.

Oh, did I mention I left work at 8 pm and now it is 10:15 pm? This is for a 35 minute commute by car. I get off at my stop and a very kind lady with long curly nails and extensions, graciously lets me borrow her cell phone (do you smell irony in my prior cell-phone arrogance yet?) to call my friends and tell them "I'm walking your way, please pick me up!" Well, I arrive at the apartment, surprised they haven't even left yet. I walk up and throw rocks at the window, calling their names. I feel a sinking feeling--Sharol's car is not in the lot out back. Then I know, somewhere along the road I had just walked, they are driving, looking for me.

I walk all the way back and no sign of 'em. I pound on the locked door of Papa John's, and an employee grudgingly lets me come in to make a call (to my friend's cell phone, ha ). Minutes later, Sharol and Robert drive up, stressed and concerned, they have been asking people at bus stops along the way questions, trying to trace my steps. Robert tells me he didn't want to find me in a bush with my underwear around my ankles. I am crying and tell them I hadn't had dinner yet. It is 11 pm.

They tell me Robert can drop me off at the metrolink in the morning. In my post-travel stupor, I call my supervisor that night and tell her I won't be coming in Friday. I crawl into bed and sleep a dreamless sleep. I awake at 9 am and wondered why exactly, I "called in" the night before considering I have to go over to get the stalled car taken care of anyway?!?

Well, Robert kindly drives me, not just to the metrolink station, but all the way to work. I get there and coworkers are the perfect combo of sympathetic, good-humor (to cheer me up) as I whine about my miserable life. One coworker's brother comes out to check my little beast, and says she needs a new fuel pump. Another coworker's husband works at a shop. We have the car towed to his shop, and they call me in the afternoon with an estimate. I tell them "go for it!" I get in a couple of good sessions with kids.

I get a call at 5 pm, my car is fixed and ready to go, halellujah! My coworker drops me off at the shop, no problem, I pick up the car and drive home, commute time: 35 minutes. The guy at the shop had said that I was just lucky how the timing and everything worked out (they had the part in stock) for them to fix the car this afternoon. I know I was more than lucky. I was blessed. I hate these trials, but God always brings me through. Even when I do stupid things like wander the city streets alone in an exhausted stupor, looking for a ride. (This isn't to say I don't get a little banged up from time to time). OK. As Tina would say, Holy long post, batman!

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Larry
This morning, I awoke about 9:15 am. Actually I woke up at 7:00 am to my easel being knocked over by an impulsive cat, but I went back to sleep and reawoke about 9:15 am. Well, the same cat was running around the room and appeared excited to see signs of other life in the apartment (as he always is). I called him and he jumped on the bed and purred as I pet him. Then he took a good, long look at my face, and playfully swung his paw at my nose. Hard. It really hurt, and I felt blood. I gave him a smack across his nose and tossed him off the bed.

I grabbed a kleenex and grappled with the evidence... did my cat just give me a bloody nose? The blood was a steady flow, and I went into the bathroom and saw that he had in fact, scratched an inch long swath down the side of my nose, so it was more my nose skin, than nostril that was bleeding. Grrrrrrr. Not a good start to my day. I considered calling in. Who wants to explain to everyone that "my cat beat me up." Maybe I could tell them I cut myself with, uhh, a piece of glass? I was in a car accident? No logical explanations for such an injury, and right on my face, too! Just call me a battered pet owner.

I decided, today would be the day for clipping kitty's claws. All this simple task actually requires is a pair of nail clippers; however with Larry, I also need a long-sleeved, hooded sweatshirt, gloves, socks (cover all exposed flesh) and a towel to wrap his head and hind feet in so he can't do much damage. This task took 45 minutes to complete amid his growling, yowling protest. After I finished, I gave him a little treat and he bounced off as if none of this morning's ordeal had occurred.

This cat. I never knew exactly what I was in for when Melanie from work offered me an adorable, 4 week old abandoned kitten who "just needed someone to take care of it." My feelings toward Larry mix between tolerant affection, rage, and defeat. He's so cute, sometimes. He's such a pain, often. He needs care, always. Sigh. Is this love? If love means threatening the object of your love that they will be put to sleep if they keep up current behavior, then, yes, I believe I love him!