Sunday, August 11, 2013


I'm thinking pink is a good trend.  I'm feeling a bit better, even in the midst of life's craziness.

I kind of quit my job this week.  And then took it back via negotiating a more favorable schedule.  Let me explain.

I'm a single mom.  I have been for about 12 years now.  The father of my kids isn't around, so I do it all, like many parents, single or not.  Doctor appointments, teacher meetings, sick days . . .

And I sometimes, perhaps often, need to adjust my work schedule to accommodate my family.  I still get the work done, get in my hours, but in a varying time frame.  My boss finally said no.

And so I gave him 30 days notice.  I told him I respect his needs as an employer, but I have to take care of my kids. I went on with my workday, and then drove home.

In the silence of the commute, I began to suspect I'd been hasty, and maybe shot myself in the foot.  I do still need to pay rent, and I may or may not get another suitable position some time soon.  I'm not usually so impulsive, but honestly, I've been trying to quit this job practically since I started.

It's a good job for a difficult boss and a chaotic workplace.  I like the potential, but I sometimes doubt my ability to tolerate what it'll take to get there.

So I emailed my boss, and asked if he'd consider a four day work week for me.  Four ten hour shifts, allowing me one day a week for appointments and personal needs.

The good news is that he's thinking it over.  The bad news is that he's thinking it over.  That he didn't accept as hastily as I gave notice.  Ah well, it is poetic, and it may be just.

But I don't feel panicked.  I will continue to peruse the want ads.  And whatever will be will be.  I have lovely day dreams about what I can do with my one day when the occasional appointment isn't on the books.  I've been wanting to write a story - it's been running loose in my head for many months now.  And I long to walk, take that time to myself on a regular basis.  I don't know why I don't make it a priority now, except that it feels like I never have enough time to do everything I  want to do.

But I am a continual improvement project, and that allows me to move on, breath through the rough spots, and imagine a brighter day.  The beauty of that, is that it also allows me to be happy in the moment.  I don't fall into hopelessness.  I flow into happiness.

Sunday, July 28, 2013

The Pink Project

I've been in a slump.  Bona fide.  But I have awesome people around to remind me how to not be in a slump.  Excuse my awkward phrasing please.

I've generally lived life on a positive note, and being down the last couple of years is unfamiliar and uncomfortable, so it's time to abandon that phase.  It's time to embrace the Pink Project

Why I'm in a slump doesn't matter, we all have stuff, sometimes it's harder, but that's a matter of perspective.  I know how powerful the human mind is, we can make ourselves believe in almost anything.  Ghosts, aliens, honest politicians . . .

My reality, outside of some select venues, is somewhat under my perview.  Yes, attitude.  You've heard all about that, and we've seen it in action.  Successful people embody a winning attitude.

I want to cultivate an attitude of peace.  Serenity.  Calm.  Gratitude.

I'm feeling better already.

So why the Pink Project?

I met this woman on the trolley.  She was interesting.  A little rough around the edges, a little edgy period.  But, she zeroed in on me and began a conversation.  She was traveling to go see her guru. Yes, we're in California.  And I found myself sharing my day, and my anxiety about my stressful job, including my overbearing boss.  And this is what she said.

When you go in tomorrow, see him in pink, to activate his love and friendship chakra.  You won't make him feel romantic or anything, and you're not taking away his free will, but he'll feel more friendly, happier.

Huh.  Why the hell not?  What do I have to lose.  And if it can work with my boss, why not everyone I meet?  The other folks on the trolley who are so immersed in their own stresses that they don't acknowledge one another.  The co-elevator riders crammed in and trapped listening  to muzak.

I've begun working on seeing the people around me in a pink light.  I have no idea if this will activate their chakras.  I don't know that I completely buy into the whole chakra thing.  But I do believe in positive energy.  I'm a child of the 70's. Kumbaya.

The funny thing is, focusing on affecting others in a positive way makes me feel better.  I wish I could be a pink superhero, flying around the globe and illuminating Kim Jong-Un, Assad and violent felons in a pink glow.  But my powers aren't yet that strong.

So my Pink Project will maintain a focus on a smaller scale.  I'll still use my internal pink laser on folks I see when I'm out in the world, but I'm stepping things up a bit at home too.  I'm going to feel the pink.  I'm going to take better care of myself.  Lose some weight, move my body, balance my bank account and clean my room.  I'm going to see what makes me grateful, and peaceful, and happy.  I'm going to remember that the hard stuff is just as temporary as a rain storm, or a rainbow, or a puddle. And the sun will come out tomorrow.

Saturday, January 5, 2013

Table for One . . .

If a meeting takes place and only one person shows up, is it really a meeting?

Obviously not, but I don't want to take this too seriously.  I set up an alternate book club meeting, one for those of us who got wait listed for the real book club meeting. I'm fairly new in town, serious about reading and serious about meeting new people.  So I suggested it, and a few people expressed interest.  But no one else came.

Truthfully, I'm disappointed.  I got myself all geared up to meet people and have some fun girl talk, be a participant in something besides my own family drama for a bit.  And my disappointment is all out of proportion to what actually happened.  I didn't get stood up for prom, I didn't get left at the altar, I bombed on my attempt to organize an alternate book club.  It's not life or death.

But I'm vulnerable because I've isolated myself while raising kids and moving to a new town.  I'm finally ready for the self imposed isolation to end.  And really, that's the good news.  I'm over being so self protective that I have no other adult contact besides work (with all my twenty something co-workers) and family.

And I don't want that social contact to be about dating, which would be my mom's solution.  Find a man.  I just want some friends, friends who understand my stuff, because they can empathize, because they can relate.

So, I just found out that I'm really ready to become part of the living again.  I'm still here, still something besides a mom or a bookkeeper.  And I'm ready to have and be a friend.  Strike up the band and look out, because this is something I can sink my teeth into!

Carpe Diem!

Saturday, December 29, 2012

You Just Never Know

You just never know.  Life changes in unexpected ways.  Ten years ago I could not have imagined I would be Here, geographically, familially, emotionally, financially, Here.  And Here is constantly changing.  Thank goodness!

My interests outweigh my time, something that has occurred over time, and I like that.  I'm never bored.  That's not to say I'm never dissatisfied or grumpy or mad as hell.  But I'm more likely to be looking for the wry side, or the sunny side, or any upside.

Take aging.  I'm fifty something, and feeling it.  I'm no Jane Fonda, holding onto my physical youth with both sweaty palms.  My jiggle has wrinkles, my eyes need coke bottle thick lenses to see 16 size font, and the whole hair thing is ridiculous.  Seriously.

My eyebrows are a catastrophe.  Think Phylis Diller - meets - Andy Rooney - hybrid ridiculous.  I recently had a headache, and used a gentle acupressure technique on my eyebrows to alleviate the headache.  And I rubbed two completely bald spots on my eyebrows.  About a half inch in from the center of each.  My bangs aren't long enough to camouflage these smooth wonders.  Oh yay. 

So now, the eyebrow hairs I do have can be light, or dark, soft and calm, or wiry and sticking straight out.  Yes, I said straight out.  So I tried to pluck an errant brow hair with my super duper tweezers, but I can't see well enough to grasp just one hair.  Wow.  There's another bald spot.

But there's hope, sort of.  I have plenty of hair growing out from the moles on my face.  I just need a little adhesive and voila! Presto chango, mole hair becomes eyebrow hair, sort of like the new trend in lashes, gluing on one at a time for that special lush look.  Wrye style.

But all this hair schtuff doesn't put on a damper on my love life.  Did I mention I'm single?  Oh yeah baby!  I'm in that hot demographic category, single, over 50, over educated, and liberated.  I can't play dumb to boost anyone's ego, I'm not twenty, I don't look twenty, and I don't have enough money to lure a gigolo.

But I have a secret weapon.  I ride public transportation in an area heavily populated with inebriated gents.  And they think I'm pretty.  And I believe them.  My mind is a steel trap when it comes to willing suspension of disbelief.

And maybe that's my real secret weapon.  Strength of will and the ability to bend reality to my own point of view.  How about you?  How does your point of view assist you in daily living?