Fainting spell

I haven’t been running. I am not happy or proud to admit that but it is the fact. I normally like to venture out to do my running miles in my neighborhood. Unfortunately, it has been branded into my mind recently that there is a small possibility of me keeling over in a faint literally miles from home. It has made me mildly fearful.
I have only fainted once in my life, with only one other close call that I remember. The instance when I actually fainted was over 30 plus years ago.
I had agreed to go out with a young man I had met and gone out with maybe one or two times before. He picked me up at my apartment and we went for a drink at a club. We sat at our own table for a while and then we decided to go over to the pool tables. I don’t remember much except standing by the tables as they began to get extremely blurry. The next thing I remember is waking up, on the floor, with people all around me and not knowing what had happened. It took me a while to get my bearings but I knew I needed to get up and out of there. Total embarrassment motivated me to move quickly. I didn’t know this guy I had gone out with very well and here I am on the floor in a public place. He got me up and took me outside for some fresh air. I made it to the passenger side of his car where I managed to throw up in the parking lot. Thank goodness it was already dark. But the darkness didn’t stop my embarrassment or mortification. If I had known how to physically disappear I would have done that.  I must have been the epitome of an THE worst date!  I had to marry the guy so I knew he would keep my secret of being weak and sickly.
The second close call came while I was in a packed funeral hall room where I was standing against a wall with others since all the chairs were filled. I had reached almost the end of the service and a relative of the deceased was speaking when a horrible wave came over me. I kept thinking I needed to get out of there but I didn’t want to walk until the relative was finished. I thought as soon as he was done he would leave the podium and I could make my way out. I didn’t hear a word he said as wave after wave kept hitting me. How was I able to keep standing? He finally finished and I made my move. There was a friend (actually a former boss) that must have had their eye on me that took hold of my arm as I moved. She wasn’t much larger than me but grabbed me, took most of my weight and steered me out of the room and outside. I didn’t faint but got a scolding as we sat on the steps outside the funeral home waiting for my head to stop spinning.
So I’ve had enough experiences with fainting to know I don’t know when or if it will hit me. Not that it has anytime recently but I am biding my time until I wrap this situation up where the fainting can be taken out of the equation…in the next couple of weeks.

I really, really don’t want to be surrounded by people while I am trying to figure out why I am napping along the side of the road when I should be running.
TT

Dress-up

It is basically Halloween at work today. There are potlucks and dessert contests. Costumes are encouraged and I am usually a pretty willing participant for the dress-up thing. I have never been shy about it.
Not this year. I haven’t baked a thing and didn’t even sign up for the potluck. I won’t be wearing a costume. I just didn’t want to, didn’t feel like it and I bet there will be people asking me why since it is known I do this every year.
Nope. Not this time.
I am wearing my dark wash skinny jeans with a tailored button down shirt. I threw on my squared off, rib length bolero jean jacket with the one color machine embroidery stitched down the right sleeve. I put on my Michael Kors cheetah print 4 inch pumps. Not a big stretch for me. I flat ironed my hair as straight as humanly possible to show every jagged layer and allowed the side swept bang to hang well over one eye. I did a smoky charcoal grey eye color with a dark burgundy lip.
But I didn’t go with a costume this year. Just my regular clothes I could team up any given day. Maybe I added just a little extra today but not really. I’ve worn every piece to work before. And maybe if it isn’t a costume it is still dressing up to me. There can be a lot of attitude when you put together regular clothes that way. Doesn’t that make it a sort of costume? So even though I didn’t dress as something I dressed as myself and that has a good feel for me today.

It’s the best I could do right now and today my best…well, it isn’t so bad.
TT

Not much, you?

I spent some time ironing. I had what seemed quite a bit to catch up on since the recent upstairs bathroom remodel. That was the time I was without my washer and dryer for a period of time. That project has finally been completed and I have managed to get all the laundry done but there were items I had put aside to iron. I finally got around to them.
My routine for doing this is usually on a Sunday afternoon. I will set up the board in the bedroom in front of the TV and catch (don’t laugh) a cooking show. I know, how domestic of me. You would be surprised how domestic I can be. This time instead of the cooking show, I realized I had at least four episodes of a show I had recorded but hadn’t seen. It was a perfect time to catch up. So with everything in order, I switched on the iron and switched on the TV and got to work.
I have watched this show since it began last season. I was extremely skeptical about it when it first came on and have to admit it took more than the first few episodes to keep me watching. I was entirely on the fence on whether I thought it would work or not. I am glad I kept watching. I realize now after having caught up on the recent episodes from this season (and ironing all my 11 blouses that needed it) that the actors/writers have really pulled together an enjoyable, entertaining show.
I really believed at the beginning the show would have failed miserably if one of the characters, Walter Bishop, couldn’t pull off the balance between genius scientist and institutionalized crazy. John Noble was able to do it and continues to do it with finesse and humanity. I could go on and on about his character alone. He keeps me watching.
The first season was a little scattered. This season they have definitely pulled it together and have a direction without giving up the individual story lines. I love that the person helping Olivia through some of her problems works at a bowling alley. That might have been the inspiration for me putting this out today. What? Don’t get it? Well, it is kind of obscure…but isn’t Thursday league night? For bowling I mean? Yeah, thought so.
But your saying, what was this about? Ironing, a TV show, bowling.
Yeah. That was it. That’s all it was about. 
And what have you been up to?
TT

Snowball watch

What has happened to the last two weeks? How did we get from there to here so fast? I can’t even remember where it went or what I have been doing. Is this some sort of short trip time travel I’ve been experiencing? When did I board that space craft and who paid for my ticket?
Doesn’t it seem that way? You get to the last quarter of each year and wonder what happened to the time. I was in line at the grocery store and the checker asked if I was ready for Halloween. It dawned on me, oh yeah, Halloween…that’s this week, right? This week! It is in a few days! Oh, well then I guess it will come if I’m ready or not.
It has gotten easier for me to say that these days. It’s easier for me to shrug and say it will come if I am ready or not. It must be since I do all the traditional preparation, get ready for holiday stuff, that it has become second nature to me. Oh, (yawn) is it that time again (looking at my watch)…is that happening again, already?
Maybe that’s what I’d like everyone to believe as I panic inside since it has crept up on me and I haven’t done a thing to prepare. I have to talk myself down. Now stay calm, you know what to do, just get it done without thinking about it. Don’t think how it’s impossible in this short amount of time! You can do this, you’ve done it before. You are good at this, it can be done. For crying out loud! What happened to the time! I’ve got nothing done!
And it just keeps zooming by. It starts with Halloween and rolls right into the holidays. Sure enough the holidays will have come and gone before I even get a chance to think about it. Let’s face it, you get to this time of the year, every year, and that tiny snowball starts coming down the steep incline, picks up speed and turns into a giant avalanche designed to crush everything in its path catching everything and everyone yelling and screaming as it pulls them into its huge mass leaving a deep entrenching trail behind it. Not a pretty picture.
I need to find that time travel space craft. I need to figure out how to get myself a ticket that will have me arrive after all of that. “I would like a ticket to leave now and arrive on Dec 31st, please."
There is one thing that I will get done and not forget to do before I leave. 
I won't forget to chill the champagne.
TT

Safe, not always sound

It was 5:05 pm on a weekday in rush hour traffic. I wasn’t where I would normally be on that day and I admit to being lucky that I don’t have to deal with rush hour on a day to day basis. But still, it doesn’t seem to matter how many times I leave this particular building, as infrequently as it is, I always get turned around and can’t seem to find my way. It’s a busy section of town and I always find myself lost in familiar territory.
On this particular day it was also pouring down, all out, cloud dumping rain. Sure enough, I pull out of the parking garage of the tower building I was in and make the turns I think are the correct way to get me home or at least on my way. I recognize the street names but I don’t travel them enough to recognize any landmarks. Then I get that churning feeling when I realize it really isn’t the right way, but it’s storming crazy. It is a well known fact that when it rains that hard here, the streets flood very quickly. I have a very small sports car that is low to the ground. I know I am going the wrong way but the rain is blurring the windshield even with the wipers going full blast. It is so blurred that I cannot read the cross-streets name until I realize I am close enough to not be able to get into the correct lane to turn.
So…it’s 5:05 rush hour traffic, it’s pouring down rain, my car isn’t made for deep sea fishing and I’m not going the right way and know it. Fudge.
I could drag this out for you and make you experience the whole awful mess. You are going to get very lucky here since I don’t particularly want to experience it all over again. I am not particularly proud of the fact that I got so turned around. I am also not proud of the fact that it took me an hour and 15 minutes to get home when it should have been maybe 20 minutes tops. I will admit to how I managed to go down the right streets but in the wrong direction. I will say how I spent time in traffic knowing I needed to turn around but couldn’t. I will say I almost used my car phone to call Jay and say… “Where am I and how do I get out of here!” …like he is my personal navigation system. But that part I didn’t do. I will say I finally made it home safe and sound albeit later than I would have hoped.
Let’s just say I arrived home safe and as far as sound…well, I arrived as sound as I was before I left.
TT

Positive feedback

I have had an opportunity for the tiniest bit of feedback on some recent posts. I got really uppity and splattered a link to Room for cream?… http://tessatoday.blogspot.com/2009/10/room-for-cream.html, to a batch of friends. Somehow I was feeling good about this one in particular and got the courage and confidence to send it out hoping to either confirm or deny what I was thinking about it. It turned out I did get some really good responses on it and it helped confirm that, at least with this post, I was on the right track on trusting my instinct.
It was good to hear some of the positive reinforcement. It was just the boost I needed. It helped me with sorting through my own thoughts of whether what I thought was good, really was good to someone else. That doesn’t mean I don’t try to overanalyze some of the feedback I get. That is just the way I am when it comes to something important. And I need to remember that these were friends that were giving me feedback so you have to factor in that they might have been trying to spare my feelings. They should know I would much rather have them tell me, it wasn’t any good and this is why. If they don’t add the why, I will ask 20 questions to find out because I can’t fix it if I don’t know. Maybe that is what they were trying to avoid. My 20 questions.
I thought an interesting compliment came when someone prefaced it by saying, in my unbiased opinion. I knew something wasn’t quite right when I heard that but my mind was already speeding along to the next thing so I didn’t get a chance to circle back to it. I thought about it later. Did I miss their veiled subtlety? How unbiased could it be? It was a dear friend, knows me very well and was probably trying desperately to avoid my 20 questions. Gosh, missed that! And here I am the queen of subtlety and didn’t latch on to that one! Like I said, they know me pretty well.
But the feedback was good. I would always prefer to debate it longer to try to learn more on what I could be doing better.  I will always be looking for ways to do it better. 
There is one bit of absolutely strong positivity that Dante gave to me that I will not soon forget. He was referring to my two posts about my confusion and wanting answers about writing that I had concocted fictionally. He said, “Mom, you created an Alice in Wonderland type place except it’s more like Writers in Wonderland.”
I can’t tell you how good it made me feel to hear that he not only liked the posts but that I had conjured up these images for him. And that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do with the writing. I've wanted to conjure something up for each reader.

TT
I seem to be linking a bit to myself lately but these are the Writers in Wonderland posts (also known as Rules of Writing).  Hope you enjoy.
http://tessatoday.blogspot.com/2009/07/rules-of-writing.html
http://tessatoday.blogspot.com/2009/09/rules-of-writing-2.html

Small things

"Hey, mom, what are you up to?"
“Nothing much. Nothing I can’t put aside.”
“Where are you right now?”
“Home. What’s going on?”
“I need to do some laundry.”
Ah. Yes. I don’t want to give the impression that my son only calls when he needs something. That just isn’t the fact. It took me a while to realize the first couple of times that one or both of the boys would call and they only wanted to chat or catch up. It was a slightly odd feeling at first. You know, you look at the phone as it rings, your eyes go wide and you wonder what has happened when you see their number light up. You hurriedly answer and they are just talking, you are just talking. You go through the conversation giving them time to say whatever catastrophe may have happened. Then they hang up and you stare at the phone wondering what you might have missed. They didn’t ask for anything. No upheaval. They just called.
This call about the laundry hasn’t happened in a very long time. Both of my boys have been living on their own for a few years now and doing very well independently. I am very proud of that. My free-range kids have grown up to become self-sufficient men. It is pretty amazing to me. In fact the oldest, Sonny, just bought a brand new house. He managed to find a brand new home with all the things he wanted. It didn’t take much to convince his younger brother, Dante, to share the expenses and have a great place to live. It was a great solution to the tiny apartment they had been sharing in the past.
And that was the reason for the call about laundry. They just moved in about a week and a half ago and there is no washer and dryer in the new house. They remembered to make arrangements for the refrigerator but not so much the laundry machines. So call mom - easy answer. I have no complaint. Dante does most of it on his own (then he leaves the remaining loads for me to finish and he picks them up later). We have been through his routine more than a few times. It isn’t anything new and it doesn’t infringe on anything that I am doing. In fact, it makes me feel good sometimes to do these small things from time to time. I am glad to do the small things. I am glad to do the big things occasionally but they have managed most of those on their own.
Besides, all those small things add up to some pretty good things all the time. The best part is it doesn’t take a catastrophe to hear from them. Sometimes a really good thing can be as simple as laundry.
TT

Barometer reading

I am going to admit to feeling tremendously good. Yes, that seems to be an accurate statement. And, no, it doesn’t make me nervous admitting it. I don’t have a superstitious streak that by saying “I feel good” something bad will happen. I will not be looking for the…I was going to say for the other shoe to drop (see links to posts below)…but if you have read my problems with shoes it probably wouldn’t be the best way to describe that.
But here I am. Smiling, listening to Ingrid Michaelson’s quirky song You and I from her Be OK album, the one about getting rich and buying homes in the South of France, and writing around the edges of all that. And I’m feeling really good and admitting it.
How hard is that! All of it. Admitting to it when it happens, recognizing it as it unfolds, and going with it without thinking too hard about it. Am I thinking too hard about it? You will have to let me know since my thermometer, barometer, tachometer is always off when it comes to thinking.
But right now it wouldn’t matter. The fact that I feel so good would discount any of the readings I would get from outside sources. So I guess that is a true test. It seems to be coming from the inside out. I think it lasts longer if that’s the source. But then I’m no expert but I wouldn’t mind trying to become one. I’ll work on it and get back with you to let you know.
I feel so good I would have no problem in sharing the wealth. I’m up for that too since it has made me feel pretty rich.
I wonder what the weather is like in the South of France.
TT

I have had my problems with shoes in the past:
http://tessatoday.blogspot.com/2009/08/hardly-cinderella.html
http://tessatoday.blogspot.com/2009/08/grand-total-1622.html

Flu-less

Did you get a flu shot? Are you going to get one?

It was a question that came up while a few people had gathered around my desk. My answer was no. They seemed a little amazed (yet again, people seemed surprised by my answers). Um, no. I have never gotten one. I’ve never gotten sick that I can remember and I even asked the doctor a few years ago. She thought since I had never had one before with no adverse results there didn’t seem a reason for me to start.
The friends around me seemed surprised. I guess it is the thing to do. I guess that is what everyone does. I don’t use those gloppy hand sanitizer like everyone else does either but that wasn’t the subject at the time. I guess I don’t follow the crowds as well as I should.
It was pointed out that the shot was given to help prevent the spread of the flu and not necessarily given to just keep you from getting it.
It was at that point the conversation around me grew very dim and distant and my mind took me away. Prevent the spread...My heart dropped, my stomach gripped tightly and I must have had a distressed look about me. I came up from my fog and said, so I’m carrying around this virus and even though it doesn’t affect me, I am killing off less immune people like children and older seniors?
I guess it was the phrase, killing off, that clued my friend into realizing my thoughts had taken me to a place he didn’t intend. Maybe it was the look of distress on my face because he immediately changed from regular conversation, ha-ha, to a little bit of concern. He rapidly explained that was NOT what he meant and tried to explain I wasn’t in contact with small children. That is true. I am not exactly around children and the only older people I know is me. He didn’t mean I was killing people off. He tried to be reassuring.
I am not sure how it could have been interpreted any other way. He knows I don’t follow the normal rules of thinking. But okay. I think.
I never understood what was really trying to be said. We never got around to explaining that part. Here I was thinking how lucky I've been not to have to get shots because I haven’t been sick…for years. Now I find out differently, I think.

I am not going to tell anyone else I don’t get these shots.
TT

Don't answer

I had picked up one of those inexpensive magazines they offer at the check out counter at the grocery store. It wasn’t an entertainment magazine but one of the family type magazines that have a wide variety of articles from health to cooking to all kinds of crafts and things.
It sat on my coffee table for over a week. I finally started to glance through it and there was an article written by a body image specialist in the business for 25 years (I didn’t even realize that was something someone could do).
She was talking about how popular it is to work on our physical fitness but many of us needed to also work on our mental fitness. By this she went on to explain that it is simply a way of coaching and supporting yourself to make healthier decisions.
Okay, that is interesting. I mentally coach myself all the time. You can sometimes actually hear the gears turning in my head when I get really absorbed. So maybe I could learn something from this.
The first thing it said was to respect yourself. It said to treat yourself as well as you would a friend. Maybe I could do a little more of that. I have a tendency to beat a little more heavily on myself at times than necessary. I could work on that.
Then it said to pick a positive phrase and say it to yourself when you catch yourself in the mirror. I guess this is part of the self image thing. Examples were: I look great, Wow, or Hello, gorgeous.
This it were it lost me. No, please! You have to be kidding.
Aren’t we talking about mental fitness? Isn’t that a little crazy? I am supposed to talk to myself in the mirror? Those phrases make me uncomfortable when someone else says them – why would I say them to myself? It’s hard enough to stay mentally on track without doing outward things that will make people even more wary of my mental health. Especially things that would make me seem narcissistic. How could that help? What if I caught myself in the mirror in a public place and said Hello Gorgeous and someone else heard it? That would seem a little insane. Well, wouldn’t it?
So I am going to search my mental databases and see how much respect I can generate without talking to myself. My first step in mental fitness will be to avoid the things that will make me seem even crazier than I might already be. Respect can be good, talking…not so much.
Or maybe it’s only considered crazy if you answer yourself?
TT

Musical words

Listen. Listen. Can you hear? It’s a real musical instrument or maybe I should call it a classical instrument. It’s an instrument that someone has to play. No, I can’t say it like that but it is an instrument that is not computerized, synthesized or digitalized. It is an old fashion instrument that would have been practiced and played before anyone made music with technology. No. I don’t have a problem with that but this is different. Listen. Can you hear it?

The black and white ivories are prompting the strike of the tempered hammers inside an upright piano.  The damper pedal prolongs the blurring of each note, one beginning as the last resonates.  A violin bow moves cautiously up a scale and back again while the cello groans its dark mysterious tones of warning.  The interlude evolves, mixing and mingling, ebbing and flowing until a progressive percussion begins.  The slapping of palms on leather adds a mellow rhythm in place of the assault of sticks on skins.  It crescendos as a duet of acoustic guitars pick out harmonies of the recurring thread of the tune.
Can you hear it? Close your eyes…no, then you can’t read. But listen. It swirls around your legs like wispy smoke rising up and pulls itself tighter around you as it travels upward. Then the vocals melt into the sounds. The deep velvety, chocolate-coated, gravely male voice pours lyrics out slowly. I bet he is tall. The melody is modulating and hypnotic. His lips are ever so close, almost touching the hand-held microphone he grips with long, strong fingers. You can see the strength in his large hands and your eye travels to the dark, body hugging jeans that show a fine
What? Wait. Hold one.
Sorry. I was talking about music. Can I talk about it later? I need to play that song again.

It was way better than I thought.
TT
------------------------------------
The post is over.  This is just a backstage pass if you are interested in the behind the scenes of this particular piece.

This is back and front of original index card with the thought idea.


Here is the typed version of what I thought was the completed post.  I had a nagging feeling I could do better with the middle paragraph.  I printed it and did some re-writing in  longhand that made the final cut.  I've tried to make this as clear as possible but you may need to click into the picture to get an enlarged version to read.
TT

Not user error

Technology is a wonderful thing. It really is. Except when it doesn’t quite work the way you think it will or when it seems to behave badly
Case One: iTunes
I had recently avoided a tragedy with losing three quarters of my iTunes music library. A friend was able to restore all my music and I was overjoyed. Yes. That is the correct word. If you know anything about how much I love, depend, and rely on my music you will know that overjoyed is the correct word to describe the feeling I had when it (my music) was all back and restored. So that being said, I was also past ready to get more music. I had three CD’s that I was able to add to my library but I also went out to the iTunes store on line and purchased another.
It turns out I had previously bought a single from the album I had chosen to purchase. Okay, good…that’s fine. I was purchasing the album. I noticed on the left hand side of the purchase screen that the technology recognized that I already had the single and was offering to complete the album and not charge me for the single I already had. Okay, that sounds good. I’ll have the entire album and not have to repurchase the one I had. I saved a buck but it didn’t work the way I thought. It gave me the entire album without the song I already had. It skipped that one song. This might not be a big deal to anyone else (probably not) but me? Are you kidding! I am the person that will find a new author and go back and get the very first book they ever wrote and read them all in order. I don’t skip around.
Now I had an album, not only out of order, but missing the song I liked enough to buy the entire album for! What’s this! I would have paid the buck again to have it all the way it’s supposed to be.
I tried dragging the single into the album, searching ways to combine it. I guess the only way to get it in order is to create a playlist of an album I already have. So then I guess there is a technological solution. I guess that will work.
Case Two: Automatic upgrades
I didn’t really want to get started on this but…oh well. Technology seems to know when to push certain buttons…mine. Like when I finally have my ideas working, the words are flowing on the page, I am in the groove and the laptop tells me it is installing an upgrade now or in 10 minutes – my choice, click here. Nothing like technology adding a little pressure – save, stop now or can I complete this before the 10 minutes? Talk about distraction. Of course, it doesn’t try to do that when I have time, like when I am staring at a blank page not knowing what to put down. Of course not!
But then technology is a wonderful thing.
I just wish it would stop smirking at me from time to time.
TT

It doesn't stop

Okay, so everyone has a bad week. Last week for me wasn’t all that great. The best part about it is that it is over and I’ve emerged ready to keep at it. Writing - I am ready to keep writing. I was nudging toward not continuing. I was surprised to find that I emerged from this feeling a lot sooner than I have in the past. I somehow didn’t miss too many beats and I am going to speculate that it was my attitude. I admit it gets hard. It isn't easy at times. I can clearly see myself walking away and saying I am not going to do this. It would have been easier. I have done that before. I have stopped, pulled the plug and just refused to think about it.
But then what? Stop and then what? And how do I stop exactly? I am not sure I know how to do that now. I didn’t have a thought in my head recently but I kept writing on index cards and I keep typing thoughts on a page.
So I kept trying. I went back to bits I had written but discarded as not good enough. I re-wrote them. I took huge chunks out and said the same thing differently. I wrote more words last week than I have on some good weeks. For the five posts that were published I probably had written seven or eight that never got anywhere except out of my head and onto a saved page that was later deleted or re-worked.
Like this one.
I persisted and managed to get past the tough week. I took a short break but kept going. I felt better when I didn’t give in to the easy way out, the quitting part. Not about this. Not this time. This really has become a discipline I am starting to love. Now it is about how will I do it and keep going and not about how I will stop doing it. It is about the moment and the things that are happening along the way and not so much focus on what is at the end of it all.
So gosh, I could have had a lot of extra time if I had decided the other way. But I would have had extra time to do what?
TT

Language lesson

Sunday is usually the only day Jay and I have off together. We are both probably a little more thankful for that than we should be but that’s what happens after almost 30 years. We know we are on opposite ends of the personality charts. (Are there personality charts? Maybe I should do some research. No - I don’t want to get started on that.)
Jay is very much with the way of thinking that it’s a day off, relax and do as much of nothing possible. I am very much…it’s a day off; I have time to go here, do that, and fit this in, think about that. Our two ways of thinking have a tendency to clash if I find a need to merge a let’s do this on a Sunday off.
So I’ve been coming up with small projects around the house that need to get done. Jay is not a handyman. He has all kinds of tools and stuff but I’m not sure he knows the best way to use them. Or maybe he does and just doesn’t like to use them on a day off or any day if he doesn’t have to. But he has been agreeing to do these small projects and things have been shaping up nicely around the house.
What I have noticed is when things get bogged down or the whatcha doesn’t quite want to match up with the hoozy that should fit into the metal thingster he starts cussing in Spanish. (Not at me, this time, but at whatever isn’t going well.) He keeps it very quiet and to the point. I can always tell when he starts muttering dirty things in a foreign language that something isn’t working. I try to step in at that point to help solve what is going wrong. I have found that if I don’t step in and try to help, the small project will end abruptly and it will stay undone for long periods of time. There is something about me standing there absorbing the meaning of all the things he is saying to these inanimate objects that helps him figure out the correct way to proceed. I am not sure why but it seems to work and to tell you the truth, I don’t mind.
I am only concerned that it gets done. The language lesson is only an additional benefit. Well, to tell the truth, I learned most of those dirty words a long time ago.
Doesn’t everyone learn those first?
TT

Stubborn maybe?

It's Saturday morning and I'm not allowed to run. The weather has finally lent itself to some sunshine for a change and I can't get out there the way I would like. I had to negotiate a bit and the not running was part of it. You see earlier this week when my lab results confirmed I was extremely anemic I was prescribed a mega dose of an iron pill. The doctor handed it to me and I held it in my hand looking at it while telling him I didn’t want it. I had taken these pills before and they are very unkind. I only felt the exact same way about the pills. I decided I was going to hold off from filling the prescription until I got another opinion.

The news wasn’t taken well at home when I said I wasn’t going to take anything until I met with the doctor that had done my surgery last year.
“Why not?”
“Those pills mess me up."
"But you need to take them.”
“I’ve already made an appointment to see the other doctor. It will only be until I get another opinion.”
“Why don’t you get some over the counter iron pills and take those in the meantime?”
“The appointment is next Wednesday afternoon. It isn’t that far away.”
“What would it hurt to take a regular iron pill.”
“Why? It’s not like I only developed anemia the minute they told me. I have obviously had this for a while and I was still doing things without the pills. I will talk to the other doctor about it.  What is a few more days going to hurt.”
“If you are going to be defiant and stubborn, then you absolutely cannot go out and run until you do something about this.”
“I am doing something about this. I am going to talk to the other doctor about what the other options are. If I have to take an iron pill then I am going to find out if there is something else I can take besides this prescription.”
“Okay. But no running.”
“Alright.”
So I can’t run today. I can’t run on this beautiful sunshiny morning that we haven’t had in many weekends. But I know what I’ll hear tonight when it’s found out I mowed the back yard instead. The same back yard where the grass had grown to shin depth since we've had rainy weekends for the last three to four weeks.  The same back yard that I was warned to leave alone just this morning.  It could translate more offensively but I know it will be meant to be interpreted along the lines of the traits of a billy-goat, a mule, or sometimes an ox.
"Aye cabróna!"
TT

Got a better idea?

I am going to use the excuse that I must be more tired than I am allowing myself to let on. I’ve been pushing myself again and I think it is taking its toll. I am getting to the point where I am not a happy camper. Who is a happy camper? How can you be happy sleeping on the ground in a bundle of quilted cloth, usually no running water, bugs…oh gosh, never mind. Wave that thought away, that’s not what I wanted to think about.
I had decided I was not going to write. In fact, I had made up my mind that I was going to just stop for a while.
I had run out of ideas. I tried to come up with something. I made an attempt by writing a list of words on an index card so I could try and brainstorm ideas. It didn’t work. I crossed out all the words except two. I don’t know why I didn’t cross out those two. What? It doesn’t make any difference what the words were or what the ones where that I did cross out. None of them gave me any ideas. So I decided I wasn’t going to post anything for days. Yes, days.
It’s called a stubborn mind at work. But then stubborn mind decides that isn’t stubborn enough. It needed to be more stubborn. Doing nothing was not an option even if I don’t know what to do. Can’t keep still, can’t sit around. Need to force an idea. Sure…there’s an idea. Right. You can see how well that is working out.
So I’m using the excuse that I am tired. So my one stubborn self is telling me to post while the other is telling me to walk away from it for a while. Tired. I’m tired. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Until I come up with a better idea.
TT

Magic formulas

I was scanning through some of the Blogs of Note here on BlogSpot. I do that occasionally to see what is out there, to see what has been chosen and try to put some rhyme or reason to the choices. I do this because I am always trying to figure out where my blog is going and where I should be taking it. Wait a minute - that is just a silly statement. I don't take it anywhere - it leads me around on a leash.
But still...my curiosity is there. I want to see if maybe I am doing it right or how I can improve. I mean, these are the blogs, right? The unknown judges have chosen these even when some of the winners admittedly don’t seem to know why. I want to know whatever it is they are doing right so I can do it too – not to be noted but to find some insight in what I may need to do or change to make mine better.
But the noted blogs are so varied and different. They are technically well put together. They have great templates, all kinds of gizmo's and gadgets and widgets. A lot of them have photos. Many of these blogs have tons of followers. Many have links to face book and twitter. Some have posted fewer times than me and a few more. Some posts are short and many are long.
I can’t seem to pull a common thread to help me improve. I keep thinking I need more gadgets. But I’m not sure why. And maybe I don’t. I certainly don’t want to twitter.
I guess I need to remember that what works for some may never work for me. And that is okay. I have found my own bit’s of improvement along the way. Maybe that’s what they found too and I’m looking for some formula to make it magically appear on my pages. So it will be better.
But my better isn’t their better. My reasons aren’t their reasons.
I am sure Dante will remind me (again) that I say it right there in my header.
TT
I would like to congratulate everyone that has ever received the honor of being named Blog of Note. I truly mean that or I wouldn’t continue to look them over for help.

Needling the imagination

“It would take me five minutes…if I don’t break a needle.”
That is probably not the best thing to holler across a parking lot as you part from your friend to get to your respective cars. It was within ear shot of all the people sipping their beverages sitting outside on the patio of the establishment we were just leaving.
I slid into my car and pulled out. Driving away in front of the same unwilling spectators could only fuel the situation. I began to imagine the things they might conjure in their mind that would fit the scenario (as if they cared). But I was doing the imagining and I started thinking about it. What would you take away if you witnessed someone yell that statement over to another person like that?

The slim woman stopped and turned. She was wearing dark-wash fitted jeans with a classic white, long sleeved, button-down shirt. The small black purse matched the three inch heels that she strode in with confidence. Her voice was matter of fact as she called out her statement and then eased into her silver sports car and drove away.
1. Maybe all those drugs she was pushing helped pay for that. It probably didn’t hurt to add to that wardrobe either. Can you believe her to be so bold to be admitting that so freely in public? Guess that’s how she gets word out she has that stuff to sell.
2. Did you see any tattoo’s on her? Maybe that’s what the dark jeans and long sleeves were covering up. She probably doesn’t get much business if she’s in that much of a hurry. And can you imagine her admitting she’s broken needles on someone?
3. I don’t care how much of a friend she might be, I wouldn’t want her piercing my ears.
4. I sure would hate to be the person she was drawing blood from!
5. She doesn’t look like she works for the jail, does she? I mean, you don’t think she gives those lethal injections to death penalty inmates do you?

Okay, so you get the idea. It turns out I did holler that out to my friend. I didn’t think anything about it at the time. We were leaving after having coffee together. The subject of me doing some sewing alterations for another mutual friend had come up. I explained I had adjusted the shoulder straps of a dress and hemmed a pair of jeans for her. I had made the mistake of trying to stitch over pins when I broke two sewing needles in the process. Since I had packed away my sewing notions when I was re-arranging my work space I had to go up to the attic to retrieve more needles.
I was letting my friend know I could help her the same way. She had told me she had a seamstress she took her items to that charged her $8.00 for a hem. My responses was, bring them to me…“It would take me five minutes…if I don’t break a needle.”
So I claim innocence, not guilty. Well, except for being loud and having a wild imagination.

I can only take full credit for those things.
TT

A feeble rant

I feel a rant coming on but it just doesn’t seem to have all the steam of my usual up-in-arms outbursts. I feel more deflated than powered up fuming. Maybe it’s the condition itself but I really don’t think that’s the case this time around.
My yearly routine blood work came back and I am anemic. Let me repeat that. I am anemic. I repeat it because I am anemic again. The rant would come about now. Here is the part where I go into how I spent the time from 8/19/08 until 12/18/08 seeing 5 different doctors, had 19 appointments, and 12 different tests. It was all because I was anemic. And now my numbers are low again.
Was I feeling tired? Have I changed my diet? Any stomach problems? Not a single one. They ruled just about everything out with all the tests they did last year. They have more pictures of my insides than should be legal. They took more blood than any vampire episode could manage. I asked if maybe that was the reason for the low numbers. They didn’t appreciate my comments.
And I was feeling absolutely great until they told me this. Now I am just feeling frustrated. I mean it’s only iron poor blood - nothing really serious or life threatening. Like I said, I wouldn’t even have known if they hadn’t told me. It’s not like it’s stopped me from doing anything. I don’t exactly fall over when the wind blows or feel faint at any given time.
But I think that’s enough for now. I’m going to let it sit for a while and act like it isn’t there. Then later when I recover from the sucker punch I’ll be ready to deal.
So in the famous words of Katie Scarlett - (no, not Fiddledeedee)!

“I’ll think about that tomorrow.”
TT

Heating system required

It is getting to be that time of year again. As many times as I have gone through it, you would think I would have developed a better attitude or at least some kind of tolerance for it. It is not like this doesn't happen every year at this time. It is not like it is unexpected in any way. And yet, I find I am never ready or wanting it to happen. I guess I sub conscientiously wish I could will it away and keep the part I like all year around. I am talking about the weather.
Yes, something as simple and uncomplicated as that can have me all tied up and perturbed. And yes, it really does get to me. It’s fall. To me it might as well be the dead of winter. I think there is good reason they call it that. You might as well be dead if that is the environment you have to live through each day for months on end. Am I supposed to add…in my opinion…or is that a given since this is my blog? People do get so sensitive about the weather - Well, obviously – look at me!
My trouble seems to be that when everyone is ranting away about the upper temperatures we manage to reach I am sitting outside in the sun or riding with the top down on the car. They shake their head, they can’t believe it, I’m abnormal.
They don’t understand it any better when I am freezing in 58 degree weather. We have a high of 65 and I’m stressing. Mainly this comes from the fact that I know it only gets worse for me from here. The temperatures might come up a bit, but it will continue a downward turn until I will be forced to seek refuge in the nearest cave with a honey pot and hope to hibernate my way through the season.
I know. Why don’t I move to warmer climes and be still? Sure and why doesn’t everyone else move to colder when they are making it known how uncomfortable they are when it’s warm? It’s the weather. You talk about it but you can’t change it.
So I am getting a good heater for that cave I’ll be moving into. A power outlet would be a good idea. Oh, and internet would be nice. Just give me a pen and lots of paper…and maybe a book…or a couple…coffee…

Could someone please turn the heat back up?
TT

The music didn't die

There was some real excitement the other day when I got my laptop back. It was exciting to me, anyway. Here I was without my laptop that one morning and it was so odd. I couldn't retreat to my normal spot upstairs before work the way I normally do. I missed that! My routine was thrown but I got over it pretty quickly as soon as I got to work.
I got an instant message from my friend that had my laptop. He had taken it to try and restore the music I had on my iPod to my iTunes. My desktop computer at home had crashed and when I restored it I had lost three quarters of my music library. Well, it turned out my friend was able to restore over 900 songs. I told him, YES...that was about the number I had on my iPod! It sounded like he captured all of them back to my iTunes and I would now be able to start syncing up and adding more music again! I was hyped. I was stoked. I was so busy at work!
He had brought the laptop by my desk and left if for me. It sat there. It was all shiny, black, glossy rectangular home of many things mine. All I wanted to do was fire it up and check it out. But I couldn’t. I was really sooo busy. I knew I couldn’t do it then or soon. I needed to get to work on things that were such high priorities and I needed to concentrate on them. I had too many pots on the stove at work to get distracted and I knew turning that laptop on would distract me.
I knew I needed to be patient, but I wanted to see for myself and it was right there at the edge of my elbow. Luckily, the time went really quickly and most of the day was finished before I finally gave in to the urge to turn to it. I knew once I had the lid open there was no turning back. I hit the power switch, got it going, logged in and voila!
There is nothing like having something restored that you were already resigned to have given up on. All 102 albums, 923 songs were there and ready to play.
Needless to say, the day ended and I packed up myself and my laptop, made it home and arranged it all back in it’s normal place on my desk upstairs. That’s when I proceeded to load 3 more CD’s and purchase a new one from iTunes.

Ahhhh…got my music back!

TT

Bathroom s'done

There you are.  Before and afters.  Not another word.  And the answer to the question is yes...I have used it.

TT

Attack of the WeeMee

Sample WeeMee (NO...not me)!



I was having technical difficulties and it’s all because I got carried away with something that’s called a WeeMee. You are probably way ahead of me on what this is since I don’t have tendencies toward knowing the newest “in” thing in technologies as it hits the airwaves. Well, we used to say airwaves, I can’t think what it would be called now (oh yeah, cyberspace). It’s my age, I know, I was reminded of that the other day when a very young programmer was amazed when I told him www. stood for World Wide Web. He had no idea. Yeah, really. I think I was more amazed he didn’t know than him finding out it meant anything.

But in case you are as far behind as me, a WeeMee is a cartoon-like character that you create and build on line to look like you with items like hair style, clothes, shoes, etc. Then it can be posted in your profile picture for your chat window or some such. I thought it was interesting and had some time and thought why not. I took it as a challenge to see if I could get it to look anything like me.

Okay, I clicked the create button and started my build. It seemed kind of neat, cool. I have all these options for hair…scroll through pick the style that is closest to my own. No, not that one, too much hair across the face, I do that some but not that much. Too long, ah…there. Change the color a bit. Hey! Not too far off. Look at all the other options…eyes, lip color, tops, bottoms. It’s like styling myself without having to change and try on all the different clothes. I was getting into it. I should have known something would turn wrong since there was only one pair of heels out of all the different shoes to choose from. I had no choice but to pick the only pair it offered. Then it was complete…hit finish. It kind of looks like me!

But then, uh oh. I didn’t realize it would put that silly picture everywhere! I hadn’t clicked anything to do that! Now the cartoon was on my email and chat box and oh no, what! I can’t have that there, everywhere. So I look for the edit/delete button to get rid of it. There isn’t one! So I check help and it turns out you have to download the newest version of their nifty desktop to get an edit/delete button for this picture. Great…I install it. I hope for the best – updated versions aren’t all that bad. This one was. Everything was inside one window…nothing seemed to undock, favorites were nowhere. That’s okay I thought, I’ll give it some time, I’ll get used to it. The important thing was that I was able to get rid of my cartoon self…the vicious WeeMee.

Next day I go to boot up, log in and the laptop is behaving badly. Nothing has frozen up but it’s hemming and hawing and I can open this or that but not completely. I can almost hear the two versions of this desktop software fighting with one another. The old and the new versions were definitely at odds with one another. I close out windows, try again, log off, reboot, but still the whirring and bickering. Gads. Okay, enough…I uninstall the new version and hope for the best. It worked. Back to normal. No cartoon version of myself anywhere to be seen and I can dock and undock all my applications the way I like to and my favorites are back to where they should be. Whew!

Serves me right, I guess. I should have known better than to be playing with on-line paper dolls at my age.

TT

Room for cream?

I had an appointment for some blood work the other day. It was nothing out of the ordinary, just a regular yearly thing but I needed to fast from midnight until after I was finished with my appointment. Now you know the only problem I have with that is I can’t run straight to the coffee machine as soon as I wake up.

But I did well that morning. I avoided going into the kitchen and headed out. I didn’t have to wait long and I was finished without any real delays. I even mentioned to the nurse how I didn’t seem to be missing my coffee as much as I thought I would have. I was feeling really proud of myself.

The lack of coffee didn’t seem to be as big an issue as I thought it was going to be. I was managing quite well and didn’t feel an overwhelming anxiety about my lack of morning coffee. Good for me! But I was delusional.

I went through the drive-thru of the Starbucks that is located closest to the office. I gave my order. “Venti black coffee” – same as always. The voice squawked back at me – “room for cream?” Pause.

Why do they ask me that every time? They work at a coffee house. Haven't they heard the term black coffee before? Don't they know what that means? Wouldn’t adding cream take away from the blackness? If it’s black coffee what would I do with the extra room?
You can tell I’m missing my coffee by this point, can’t you? But I’m cool… “No need, thanks,” and drive up to the window.

That’s when it really hits me. That glorious smell, that unmistakable aroma was wafting directly at me through the drive-thru window. Oh help, I surrender. I can’t bear not having it. Hurry, now…come on, I said NOW…its black coffee for god’s sake, not that frou-frou whipped candy-coated saccharine sweet mess you serve, just pour it in the cup and give it to me already!

“Here you go,” she said as she handed me the cup.
“Could I have some napkins, please,” I answered smiling.

She didn’t have a clue as I took the napkins, pulled the car forward and downed a big gulp.

Ahhhh, better. Close call.

TT

Lack of laptop

I am hoping I have time to write and post this. I am admittedly a little nervous but it’s something that needs to be done. You see, I need to pack up my laptop and turn it over to someone overnight. I know, you would think I was sending my child away for the first time. But I’ll be without my laptop!

A friend of mine offered to reinstall my iTunes library from my iPod. If you don’t know a while back there was a thunderstorm that crashed my old desktop computer downstairs and I never was able to recover my entire iTunes library. I still had everything on the iPod itself but if I sync’d my iPod to the iTunes I would lose a lot of music. It was really generous of him to offer. He said it was no big deal, that he had done it before and asked if I could bring my laptop Friday and he could do it over the weekend. My face paled, my eyebrows came together and I was a little stunned. “You want to keep my laptop all weekend?”

Obviously, he read my devastation at such an idea and quickly asked if I could bring it the next day and he could have it back to me the following. Relief washed over me. “Yes, that would be good. You sure it isn’t too much trouble?”
It wasn’t and I’m rushing now to write this up so I’ll have it posted in case something happens while my laptop is gone. (What could happen, it’s perfectly safe.)

So this may be short but to the point. I need to copy this over into BlogSpot, set it to publish and pack up my laptop.

To keep my mind off not having my laptop, I will think about all the new music I’ll be able to add once I get it back.

TT

Nature's spectator

We had a rain storm the other night. It might have been early morning. I’m not sure the exact time but it was during the night and it woke me as I slept. It was raining very hard. The kind of rain that wakes you up and you fall back asleep. Then it wakes you again and you know it must be hours later. It was really quite pleasant.

When I got up in the morning I went outside. It had stopped raining but the sky was entirely one shade of matte grey. There wasn’t a variance anywhere in the sky that I could see and I looked. I looked to where the sky met the top of the trees and there was a minuscule amount of movement. The trees were throwing off any tiny drops lingering from those uppermost soft parts of their leafy fringe. It was as if they needed to put themselves back in order without drawing attention to their actions. The birds were mostly quiet. You could hear a single call, then another solitary try left unanswered. There was a slightly cooler feel to the skin. A shift so slight it would go unnoticed unless it decided to become more pronounced.

I wanted to stay nature’s spectator. I wanted to notice more of what the uncontrollable had to offer. Show me more of this. I wanted to see, hear and feel more of this.

And while I waited for more, a bright yellow VW bug (old school-not new) proudly chugged and puffed its lawn mower engine on my street in front of me and all of nature. I had to grin.

I went inside wondering if it would clear and the sun would come out. If bright yellow is any indication, I think it might.


TT

Sticking power

It is an anniversary date for me today at the place I work. I’m not big on celebrating anniversaries at work. The reason I bring it up is…I’m not sure the reason I am bringing it up. Really, I’m not sure. That is a plainly honest statement. I guess I should stay factual.

I started working there 11 years ago today. I saw an ad in the newspaper talking about a company that would soon have a campus close to my house. It sounded like a good place to work so I mailed a resume. Yes, I mailed it. I wasn’t working at the time but I also wasn’t supposed to be working and I wasn’t even looking. Well, let me explain.

I had very recently quit a job I had held for 14 years with another big company. I had never really liked the job but at the time I felt it was something I needed to do. I didn’t think I would be able to find anything better or comparable and when things were tough at work, I worked harder and pushed through. I did well but finally got to such a sad, frustrated point with the job that Jay told me to just quit. I remember a lovely Sunday afternoon after spending the weekend at the coast (if you don’t know it’s my personal escape, heaven, paradise – you need to know that now). Even there, the place that normally refreshes me, I had a horrible melt down as we were leaving because I knew I had to go back to work the next morning. Now don’t get me wrong, there weren’t people or persons making it bad for me there. It was the job itself. I went in that next morning and gave two weeks notice. I had no other job lined up and the intention was that I wasn’t going to look but just take time off. (They owed me a month vacation…I know - old habits die hard – see post Doing the math).

It was about a month from the time I had quit, mailed a resume and started where I work now. Oh well, so much for taking time off and not working. The difference was how much I disliked my old job was the equivalent of how much I like the one I have now. Instead of dreading 14 years, I can’t believe it has been 11 - it has gone that well.

But I am still not sure the reason for mentioning it. I’m not crazy about the idea that they will say something at work about it, like I’ve done something out of the ordinary instead of just doing what I’m supposed to do all this time. I guess it’s necessary to have landmarks? I seem to stick no matter what?

Maybe I mention it not because of how long or how many years I’ve been here or there. I was at my previous job 14 years and it doesn’t seem so entirely commendable since I was so miserable. Maybe the reason I mentioned it is not about the length of time I’ve been there, but how much I appreciate having a place I enjoy spending most of my waking hours.

So, staying factual, it is an anniversary date for me today. To me it isn't about years.

TT

Just housework

The order of the day seemed to be housekeeping. It certainly wasn’t flashy, glamorous or fascinating. Not the kind of thing you anxiously wait to relate to friends when you get back to work on Monday.
“How was your weekend?”
“It was fabulous.”
“Really, what did you do?” They wait expectantly to hear of the wonderful outings you may have experienced so they might share in the possibility of doing them too.
“I cleaned up!”
“Oh,” they say dully as they turn and walk away.

I imagine they can only think I am crazy (which they should have know already) or am the messiest, slob ever to be so excited about picking up. But that conversation won’t happen, thank goodness. If the conversation comes up about the weekend I will probably say, nothing special…or have to think because I usually can’t remember…yeah, that exciting most of the time.

So the work on picking up things around the house really wasn’t too bad if not flashy or exciting. I will spare you the details of the fabulous cleaners I used on the tiles or the time spent mopping the floors. I won’t go into the amount of dust that collects in small amounts of time and the oddly deformed, shriveled thing I found behind the sofa (I don’t think it was ever alive, but still).

It’s amazing the amount of time can go into something as mundane as cleaning up. You think you are going to breeze right through something as simple as vacuuming and you find yourself almost to the end of the day scrubbing random spots not just on the area you were vacuuming but on all rooms with carpeting. You mosey through the house with a scowl and a spray bottle of carpet cleaner ready to draw on all unsuspecting stains. “You’ve lived here too long. Get out of town by sundown, there is a new sheriff in town.” Luckily most vanished by the end of the day and the cleaner was holstered to use another day.

So not very exciting but sometimes that’s okay. Actually it’s very okay because at the end of the day, when all things are wiped clean and in order, I find the ability to hear the words that are sometimes more important than flashy, glamorous, or fascinating. It’s not even a matter of hearing the words, but feeling them. And that’s what happened when all things cleaning were done.

I could hear and feel the words comforting, soothing and calming. Maybe not as much fun as the other words but it had a way of coming from around and within. It was a feeling of balance and unexpected relief.

Wow. A little elbow grease and I sound like I’ve been to a day-spa. I saved a fortune in fees and the house is cleaned too! If anyone asks about my weekend...No, I don't think so, better to stick with nothing special.


TT

Doing the math

I work for a company that is set up for associates to accumulate vacation time monthly. Depending on the years of service you have with the company determines how much time you accumulate each month. Your number of hours then goes into your bank on the first day of each month. You are allowed to accumulate so many hours (also depending on your years of service) into your bank with a maximum amount. If you go over the maximum amount at any first of the month you will not accumulate your monthly hours and will stay at the maximum allotted amount.

How’s that for a math problem? It’s my math problem. It just past the first of the month and I need to take a look at reducing my vacation bank. I am close to the maximum hours so I won’t accumulate my total allotted hours if I don’t take time off and reduce my vacation bank before the end of October. I don’t think I can explain this without using real numbers. I never liked math problems and this one is no different.

I am allowed a maximum of 322 vacation hours. I currently have 316.50 vacation hours in my bank. I will accumulate 15.20 hours on 11/1 giving me a total of 332.10 hours; only I won’t accumulate that since it will put me over my maximum. I will only have 322.00 hours on 11/1 if I don’t take 10.10 hours by 10/31 and reduce my bank from 316.50 to 306.40 so I can accumulate the full 15.20 and have a bank of 322 without losing 10.10 hours. Got it so far? (Or have I already made a math error—please let me know before 10/31).

Okay – if what I have said above is correct and I take a minimum of 10.10 hours off in October I will have 322.00 hours in my vacation bank on 11/1. Not good. No…not good to have the maximum 322.00 hours in my bank on 11/1! That means I won’t accumulate my 15.20 hours on 12/1 if I don’t take those 15.20 hours off before 11/30 and then the process starts all over again in December.

See what I mean! This is the never ending…if the train leaves the station at 1:20pm but the connecting train is in a different time zone and was going at a faster rate of speed – I hate those math problems!

I’m not going to mention the hours I have in my sick bank or how the company also gives you a bonus vacation bank for every 5 years of service with the company. (Okay – I have 80 hours in my bonus vacation bank). That would just complicate things further and doesn’t really affect the math problem.

But I think I might be missing a point somewhere here, aren’t I?

Math problems always get me so confused!

TT

Not about the Petit fors

Someone just suggested a new book for me. Actually, he didn't suggest one but asked if I had read one. It turns out I had not read the book he was asking about. He was hoping I had read this book because he wanted to talk about it. He explained he had just finished it and the problem was he wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. He was hoping I had read it to find out what I thought and which way I was leaning on it.

Gosh. I wish I had read it! I know how he feels about reading something and wanting to throw it around. I feel like I missed a really good discussion. It’s been a while since anyone I know around me has asked me about a book…or suggested a book…or even if anyone around has even read a book. I believe there was once a time when I would come into work and a pile of books would be on my desk from people that wanted me to read them. They left me all kinds of books I never would have picked up myself. And they knew I would read them…and tell them what I thought. And there would be really good discussions about this part or that. There would be books we both liked or there would be books where I would point out parts that weren’t believable to me.

Like the one that had a scene on a yacht after a murder that occurred during a party. A group of detectives were called in and asked to wait but they could take advantage of the snacks. They all (big, tough, street-smart homicide detectives) started talking about the different kind of petit fors that were available. Believable? I don’t think so. If it had been one detective out of the group – maybe - but not all having this knowledge. How many male homicide detectives might know what a petit for is? For that matter, how many female homicide detectives might know? One more step further…how many people in general know? And all of the detectives were discussing petit fors like they were all trained pastry chefs while waiting to check out the murder scene? Really?

I am probably too critical, but it made for interesting discussion after we had both read the book. And I doubt I missed exactly that type of discussion today but I missed one just the same.

I’ll pick up the book suggested and see what I think. Maybe it won’t be too late to start up an interesting discussion. And no, thank goodness, it isn't likely to be about petit fors.

TT

Creep training

I am creeping back into some type of running routine. What a silly joke that statement seems to be. Run a few times and I get to say it’s a routine. Wait, maybe it is more accurate than I am making it since I used the word creeping. Creeping – slowly developing or advancing gradually over a period of time.

It doesn’t specify an exact period of time. It says advancing gradually over this non-specific time frame. Maybe there is something to this creeping concept as a training option. Okay, I concede. Maybe I have been creeping back to running.

So I’ve been creeping back. I ran my neighborhood routes this past weekend (both days – yes), then I decided I would try to get a scant few miles in at lunch at the gym at work. That worked out both Monday and Tuesday. I was able to put in about 2 miles each of those days. I can’t seem to get more miles in since I run at a snails pace, sort of the same rate as my hair growth. I have only so much allotted time at lunch and I need to change, run, shower, and change. Then it’s cool down back at my desk, red-faced. It takes a while for that to go away even with the cold shower after the run. But I had managed to get those short runs in.

Then I am not sure what happened. I don’t know if I was subliminally trying to sabotage myself or if I just…or I don't know what?! I always pack my gym bag when I get home in the evening. I take out the sweaty nasties and replace with fresh gym clothes – what I will wear the next day items. I do it all the time without thinking. I think the not thinking was the catch…or it was self-sabotage, I am still trying to decide which. So yesterday I was about to go to the gym, grabbed my bag and I think…did I put socks in my bag? I knew I didn’t.

I don’t why the knowledge of the lack of socks came to me so late but it did and I knew I didn’t have them. (I also checked the bag – frantically). Shoot! No socks! So I knew I wasn’t going to run without socks. So I skipped the lunch run. I sat outside and pulled out the current book I’m reading instead (yes – with the new reading glasses).

I’ll try again and yes I made sure I packed my socks.

Really, I did. But with this new creeping method of training, I just might want to finish that book at lunch instead.

TT