Category Archives: Stuff

Meet The New Neighbors

I got new neighbors three houses down from me.  Been here a couple of months or so.  Seem like nice folks.  ‘Cept for that time they scared Rocky because they thought it would be a cool idea to set of fireworks for St. Patrick’s Day.  Who knew St. Patrick’s Day was a fireworks required holiday?!

Tonight I was serenaded with Hank Jr. singing “Family Tradition” while I was watering the plants and putting water in the bird bath . . . interesting choice of music . . . at least it was something I recognized . . .

I should point out that I’m not wearing my hearing aids but could hear this clearly enough to sing along . . . why yes I do know all the words . . . being one of the black sheep of the family it’s kind of my theme song . . .

So if they live three houses down and I can hear it clearly enough to sing along WITHOUT MY HEARING AIDS . . . can you imagine how loud it is IN THEIR HOUSE?!

I’ve got a feeling it’s gonna be a fun summer in this part of the world . . .

Y’all should stop by . . . we can sit on the porch and watch the shenanigans

 

 

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Enough

“I got enough, I got enough. It was enough time to know that I loved him. I loved him. And I know that he loved me.” ~Randall Pearson

 

I’m watching re-runs of “This Is Us” on Hulu . . . and I find it funny that I cry as hard the second/third time I watch an episode as I did the first time . . .

 

Randall said the above line after William died . . . and it broke my heart because I knew exactly what he meant . . .

 

Because it’s been in my heart for the last 4 years, 4 months and 1 day . . .

 

Not that I’m counting or anything . . .

 

 

 

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Filed under coping, grief, PostADay, Prince Charming, Stuff

Watch What You Say

The loss of my job was rather sudden . . . for me . . . I kinda had an idea that it might happen but didn’t really think it would . . .

It was rather sudden for my co-workers . . . and for my friends . . . they knew I loved my job and was very happy at the Local Catholic School . . .

There have been rumors for years that Local Catholic School was struggling financially and that it might close . . . these rumors were floating around way back when I was in high school almost *cough* 40 *cough* years ago . . .

I haven’t posted anything on social media about my unexpected adventure into semi-retirement . . . and anything I’ve said to anyone has been positive and upbeat . . . I promised my boss I would paint a positive picture of the events and emphasize my support for Local Catholic School . . . as a lifelong resident of this town, I love Local Catholic School as much as the alumni and want to see it succeed as much as anyone, it wasn’t personal . . . it was business . . . it happens . . . and I’ve survived way worse than the loss of a job . . .

So picture me surprised when my former boss contacted me to ask about a FB post that had been shared with him about my use of the words “declining enrollment” describing the reasons why my job was eliminated.  Picture me even more surprised when I remembered that the post in question was not about my job situation but about a national hotel chain allowing dogs to stay for free at their properties . . . the use of the offending words was in a response to a response of a comment someone made on the post . . . unless you read every word of that particular post you would have never seen that particular sentence.

I told my former boss that it wasn’t my intention to ever paint Local Catholic School in a negative light (in the comment I expressed my hope that things turned around and enrollment would increase in the coming months) and that I would remove the post to avoid any further problems.

Then I got to thinking . . . who the hell has that much time on their hands that they read every word of every one of my posts and then has to run to the COO of Local Catholic School to ask for verification of the “facts” that I presented?  Who in their right might wouldn’t automatically think that budget cuts two years in a row didn’t have something to do with declining enrollment?  Are the parents that much in denial that they don’t already know that the school is struggling?  Or are they trying to keep the perfect picture of Local Catholic School out there for the community and don’t want anything to tarnish that image?

So once again . . . I have to watch what I say to avoid stepping on someone’s toes on my own FB page . . . social media is a powerful thing . . . and it fucking sucks . . .

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What Day Is It Again?

Being suddenly unemployed is stressful.  I’m worried about how I’m gonna pay the bills.  I’m worried about finding a new job.  I’m not exactly a spring chicken . . . which I was reminded of when I had the phone interview with the lady at unemployment office.  I have 35 years of administrative assistant experience.  I have 25 years of experience as an executive assistant.  I have 9 years of experience being a bookkeeper.  I’m worried about screwing up my unemployment claim and not getting any help . . . . and then when I realized how little money I would get with unemployment, I’m back to worrying about paying the bills.

Being suddenly unemployed is also somewhat relaxing.  I don’t have to punch a time clock, so I don’t have to go to bed early or get up early.  I can lounge around in my jammies and answer emails and research jobs.  I can have lunch in front of the TV and watch my soaps.

But one thing that I discovered quickly is that I have no concept of days anymore.  It’s only been a week and I have no idea what day of the week it is anymore.  I almost forgot that I needed to set out the trash last night.  If it hadn’t been for a lovely reminder text from Stepdaughter, I would have forgotten to pick up Grandson #2 from school and take him to t-ball practice today.

I’m embracing this new career development as a chance to see what else is out there and I’m overall excited about the future . . . when I’m not stressing over tiny details.  But I think I need to get into a routine of some sort . . . and I’m kinda hoping I can win the lottery and stay retired!!

 

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Angels Watching Over Me

It’s been a bit of a rough weekend here . . . my position at the lovely local Catholic School has been eliminated because of low enrollment . . . we don’t have enough kids enrolled for next year to generate the income needed to support the current amount of staff and faculty.  I found out on Friday that my services were no longer needed . . . and Friday was my last day.  I cleaned out my office and started a second round of semi-retirement.

To say that I’m a hot damn mess is an understatement.  I received a generous severance package that includes my two weeks of vacation pay but I haven’t been “let go” from a job in over 30 years and have all kinds of worst case scenarios playing in my head.  Yes, it’s scary and I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed at the moment, but it’s okay . . . I know that I’ve got this and can face the new challenges ahead of me. Heck, I faced my worst nightmare and am still standing and I’m pretty sure I can face this.  After all, there’s Rocky and Millie and their undying devotion and dedication to making me smile. I’ve seen several beautiful bright red cardinals in the back yard which is a sign that my guardian angels aren’t far away.

Like I said, I’m a hot damn mess but have managed to keep it together . . . when the boss told me that I was being let go . . . when I opened the front door and saw Rocky’s happy face and started to panic that I had no idea how I was going to support us . . . when I saw the sadness in my Mom’s face as I told her and I saw the sadness in her face when she realized that the job I loved was gone.

But the thing that finally broke me . . . was my silly Echo Dot.  Today, Amazon released a new skill – Christmas Sounds – and I had to try it out.  Because I’m a total dork when it comes to Alexa and all the cool things she can do.  I asked Alexa to play Christmas sounds and since I haven’t enabled the correct skill, Alexa has no idea what I’m talking about . . . so she plays Christmas songs from Amazon Music . . . and the song she chooses to play for me is none other than “O Holy Night” by Bing Crosby.

Yes . . . a Christmas song by Bing Crosby is what reduced me to a puddle of tears . . . because “O Holy Night” was THE song that the junior high choir that Prince Charming and I were in back in the day sang EVERY CHRISTMAS.  We started practicing it when school started in August and sang it practically every day until Christmas.  For three years.  I know every word.  I can still sing my alto part perfectly . . . and this song is the one thing that Prince Charming and I had in common all the years we were apart.  I thought of him and could remember hearing his beautiful bass voice singing his part . . . and he thought of me and could remember hearing my (according to him) lovely alto voice.  When we got back together that first Christmas, it was a joy to be able to sing the song together again every time it was on the radio.  And Bing Crosby was one of Prince Charming’s favorite singers of Christmas songs  . . . to hear our song sung by his favorite singer at a totally random moment in April was a sign that I’m not alone.  He’s watching me and telling me that I can do this . . . I can face this and I’ll be just fine.

Even when I’m not all that convinced of it myself just yet . . .

 

 

 

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Filed under 4 legged kids, coping, family, furbabies, millie, PostADay, Prince Charming, rocky, Stuff

#singlegirllife

Over the past four years, I’ve learned to adapt to the #singlegirllife . . . but since I didn’t really have a choice or a say in the matter I jumped in with both feet and hoped for the best.

I discovered the joy of not having a routine for household chores.  If I want to change up the grocery day, it didn’t upset anyone . . . except when I ran out of dog treats for Rocky and Millie.  If I want to do laundry at 7 am on a Sunday (yea, it’s happened), then I can without fear of waking anyone up.

If I want to go to The Big City on a Saturday morning and visit the local needlework shop, I can do that . . . as long as I don’t stay gone too long and make it home in time to give supper to the puppies.

I discovered the joy of choosing whatever I wanted for supper.  If I wanted to eat Cap’n Crunch over the sink with a glass of chocolate milk for supper . . . that’s what I had.  If I wanted to grab tacos from Taco Bell on the way home from work because it’s cheaper than cooking them myself . . . I headed to the drive-thru.  If I wanted to eat spaghetti four days in a row . . . I ate spaghetti four days in a row.

I learned that I can do the yard work myself . . . even though I don’t really enjoy it.

I learned that I can handle making decisions about home improvement or home repairs relatively intelligently . . . even though the entire process brings out massive amounts of anxiety and triggers a horrible panic attack.

I bought a car.  I bought a washer.  I bought a computer.  I bought furniture.  All things I’ve never done before and had no idea the amount of detail and research involved in such purchases.

I’ve learned that I can stand on my own two feet.  I haven’t lost the house.  The utilities haven’t been turned off.  I haven’t killed the dogs.  I’m not broke.  All things XH predicted would happen within six months after the divorce . . . and it’s been 7 years . . .

But there is one thing that I am struggling with.  Something so small and insignificant that it makes me laugh that I’m having a problem with it.  The #singlegirllife means that you are the one that takes care of you when you’re sick.  I have the flu.  I very mild case with some general muscle and joint aches, some severe tiredness, and a stupid headache that won’t go away.  I’m feel like poop . . . and I’m cranky . . . and I want someone to bring me soup, bring me tea, snuggle on the couch with me while I nap . . . and there isn’t anyone here to do that.  Sure, Rocky and Millie do their best but without opposable thumbs, they pretty much suck in the food prep department . . .

Yea, there are some other really bad drawbacks to this #singlegirllife . . . but today this is the one that’s really pissing me off . . .

And, yes, I’ve said more than once to no one in particular but directed at Prince Charming . . . I really hate your ass right now . . .

 

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Stay Home

Taps the microphone

“Is this thing on? Check.  Check”

Okay . . . *clears throat*

I know that everyone is saying this but I don’t think anyone is listening . . .

If you are sick . . . stay home

If you have a fever . . . stay home

If you are having stomach issues . . . stay home

Dear Students . . . I don’t care if you have practice, or a game, or a test, or whatever lame ass excuse you have for being at school when you are sick.  You are spreading your germs to EVERY SINGLE PERSON you come in contact with . . . and they are spreading your germs to EVERY SINGLE PERSON they come in contact with.  It’s no wonder that the flu is running rampant with no end in sight.  Y’all are making us sick because of your “I have to . . . ” nonsense.

Dear Parents . . . your job is to be a PARENT to your child and not their FRIEND.  If they are sick . . . keep them home.  If they give you “but I have . . . ” line of nonsense, shut it down and keep the kid home.  (But Mom, Coach won’t let me play if I don’t show up for practice!)  And for heaven’s sake . . . do not bring the kid TO SCHOOL for the NURSE to tell you to TAKE THEM HOME.  (Yes, we had a parent bring their child to school with a 101 temperature just so that the nurse can verify the kids temperature and SEND THEM HOME.)  And when we call you to tell you the kid is sick and needs to go home . . . come get the kid NOW . . . not “I’ll get him at lunch” or “are you sure he can’t stay?” . . . WTF?!!

You may wonder the reason for my tirade . . . or you may have guessed it . . . I got the flu.  Probably from one of the sick kids, or sick teachers, or sick parents that have paraded through the front office over the past week.  Yes, I got a flu shot . . . thank heavens or it would have been much worse than a low grade fever, an odd achy feeling, and extreme tiredness.  I told the kids I would not be happy if I get sick because of them . . . I did get sick because of them . . . and I’m not happy.  And I’m going to call them on their BS excuses and send their sick little selves home EVERY SINGLE TIME they come into the office and complain about not feeling well . . .

excuse me while I go back to the couch . . .

 

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