Dragging myself out of bed to head to work each day has been a bit of struggle for me recently. Thoughts of calling in sick, or just giving up completely and going on welfare, are at the forefront of my mind.
Not really.
However, we have all had those days where heading into work has been more painful than having your eyeballs poked out with a fork. On those such days I am ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS reminded of a random fellow whose path crossed mine more than ten years ago.
A stranger.
Someone whose name I know not. Someone whose face I know not. If our paths have crossed since that initial meeting, I am not aware of it. This stranger with whom I had only one encounter has literally changed my way of thinking. Forever. Our conversation resonates in my mind more than any other conversation I have had with anyone, ever. Lately, I am reminded of this on an almost daily basis.
It happened when I worked as a cashier at Target some 15 or so years ago. I was grumpy having to be at work instead of enjoying the rare, most perfect Duluth summer day. Beautiful. Warm. Sunny.
As a cashier, we were encouraged to "schmooze" with our "guests" and they sometimes schmoozed with us. Usually this small talk revolved around the weather since Duluthians find the weather one of the most interesting of topics. A gentleman entered my line and bought some small item. I greeted him in the usual manner. He mentioned what a nice day it was outside. This comment was difficult to hear when I would have rather been outside enjoying it than working inside at a cash register. Our conversation went something like this:
Me: Hello.
He: Hi. What a nice day we are having outside today!
Me: Yeah, I wish I was out enjoying it rather than working today.
He: I was just thinking I wish I had a job to go to today.
With that, he just walked away. His head hanging just a little lower than when he first entered my line. I watched him walk away, and was forever changed by one simple sentence.
That moment and those words impacted me in ways that he will never know. I think of him often and wonder what his circumstances were, what he is doing now, and if he enjoys going to his job each day if he has one.
Whenever I get grumpy about having to go to work, I immediately think of him and grow a little more thankful that I GET to go to work.
More than that, though, I am reminded how our words and actions, even in our simple, everyday interactions can have an impact on one another. For better and for worse. How many people are out there thinking about a conversation that I had with them? Have I changed their lives like this stranger changed mine?
Thank you, Mr. Stranger, for continual reminders to be thankful for what I have, and for illustrating so perfectly how powerful words can be.
Friday, December 7, 2012
Monday, November 26, 2012
Pushing 40
My doctor ever so kindly welcomed me to the almost 40 club when I complained about my achy hip. She not so blatantly said, "Welcome to almost 40". Yup, almost there. But not quite.
You know you are almost 40 when you celebrate your Birthday playing old lady Bingo at a casino. And you can't keep up with all the gray haired chain smoking ladies with their ornate bingo bags.
You know you are almost 40 when you are the only one among your friends who did not get carded entering the casino. Where you need to be 18!
You know when you are almost 40 when 9:00 is past your bedtime.
You know you are almost 40 when the kids and teenagers at work tell you that you remind them of their mom. Or grandma.
You know you are almost 40 when just looking at that ice cream sundae winds up on your butt and thighs.
You know you are almost 40 when the conversations with your friends have now evolved into talking about all your various health concerns and body aches and pains.
You know when you are single and almost 40 when your coworkers remind you of your crazy cat lady status as evidenced by "all the Friday nights spent with your cats and all the Christmas cards featuring your cats".
Key word here, folks: ALMOST. I'm not 40 yet, bitches! Its better to be pushing 40 than pushing daisies.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get my "dobbers" and head to Bingo.
You know you are almost 40 when you celebrate your Birthday playing old lady Bingo at a casino. And you can't keep up with all the gray haired chain smoking ladies with their ornate bingo bags.
You know you are almost 40 when you are the only one among your friends who did not get carded entering the casino. Where you need to be 18!
You know when you are almost 40 when 9:00 is past your bedtime.
You know you are almost 40 when the kids and teenagers at work tell you that you remind them of their mom. Or grandma.
You know you are almost 40 when just looking at that ice cream sundae winds up on your butt and thighs.
You know you are almost 40 when the conversations with your friends have now evolved into talking about all your various health concerns and body aches and pains.
You know when you are single and almost 40 when your coworkers remind you of your crazy cat lady status as evidenced by "all the Friday nights spent with your cats and all the Christmas cards featuring your cats".
Key word here, folks: ALMOST. I'm not 40 yet, bitches! Its better to be pushing 40 than pushing daisies.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get my "dobbers" and head to Bingo.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
I Am Woman.....
......Hear me roar......
The headlight on my car burnt out just the other day. Immediately I give my brother a call and play helpless so that he will go fetch me a new light bulb and change it for me. Only, he doesn't answer any of his 3 pay-as-you-go cell phones. In fact, two may be out of commission. So I did what anyone would do; I told my mom to call him later that night to relay the message that I needed my headlight changed.
Well, she forgot. And, let's face it, had my brother been beckoned, it could have taken weeks, if not months, to no longer drive a "pa-diddle" (is that a well known term for a car with only one headlight or just a local term?)
With a friend's inspirational quote streaming through my head, I decided to be "smart enough to read a manual, or use google" to get this hopefully simple task accomplished.
Off to Wal-Mart go I. Not even asking a Wal-Mart dude which light bulb I needed, I used the little electronic thing-a-ma-bob to select the correct bulb, learning, in the process, how much car light bulbs cost......$50 for a set of two of them! Yikes.
Page 226 of my owner's manual (yes, I actually have it and keep it in my glove box) showed me a three-step process of changing my headlight. It took all of 10 minutes, and really was easy as 1, 2, 3. No tools required. I even got my hands a little dirty. And the best news of all......They work!
Now, I am at home and a little restless because I really want to go out for a drive in the dark to see how much better my new lights work, and I will appreciate them even more knowing I did it all by myself.
ROAR!
The headlight on my car burnt out just the other day. Immediately I give my brother a call and play helpless so that he will go fetch me a new light bulb and change it for me. Only, he doesn't answer any of his 3 pay-as-you-go cell phones. In fact, two may be out of commission. So I did what anyone would do; I told my mom to call him later that night to relay the message that I needed my headlight changed.
Well, she forgot. And, let's face it, had my brother been beckoned, it could have taken weeks, if not months, to no longer drive a "pa-diddle" (is that a well known term for a car with only one headlight or just a local term?)
With a friend's inspirational quote streaming through my head, I decided to be "smart enough to read a manual, or use google" to get this hopefully simple task accomplished.
Off to Wal-Mart go I. Not even asking a Wal-Mart dude which light bulb I needed, I used the little electronic thing-a-ma-bob to select the correct bulb, learning, in the process, how much car light bulbs cost......$50 for a set of two of them! Yikes.
Page 226 of my owner's manual (yes, I actually have it and keep it in my glove box) showed me a three-step process of changing my headlight. It took all of 10 minutes, and really was easy as 1, 2, 3. No tools required. I even got my hands a little dirty. And the best news of all......They work!
Now, I am at home and a little restless because I really want to go out for a drive in the dark to see how much better my new lights work, and I will appreciate them even more knowing I did it all by myself.
ROAR!
Friday, August 24, 2012
Epic Failure
So, I have been trying to fall asleep for a little bit, and had this brilliant idea to blog. Blog about what, I don't know. It started out to be a post about how my life is boring and in need of some "spice". But then I didn't want to seem like I was complaining because my life really is blessed, and change brings about so much anxiety for me. Really, I am content with things as they are.
Then I thought about writing about my summer time adventures with Dairy Queen Blizzards, backyard bonfires, and buddies, but currently lack the inspiration and creativity to make that specific blog post worth reading.
Of course, I could write about rescuing a lame squirrel, followed a month later by saving a young Robin. But that is pretty much the story. I saved a squirrel. I saved a bird.
Naturally there is always the subject of my cats, but the title of "Crazy Cat Lady" is already beginning to adhere so I have to ease up on my cat love for now.
So this is my epic failure of a blog post. And, sadly, that is all I have for the moment.......
Then I thought about writing about my summer time adventures with Dairy Queen Blizzards, backyard bonfires, and buddies, but currently lack the inspiration and creativity to make that specific blog post worth reading.
Of course, I could write about rescuing a lame squirrel, followed a month later by saving a young Robin. But that is pretty much the story. I saved a squirrel. I saved a bird.
Naturally there is always the subject of my cats, but the title of "Crazy Cat Lady" is already beginning to adhere so I have to ease up on my cat love for now.
So this is my epic failure of a blog post. And, sadly, that is all I have for the moment.......
Thursday, May 24, 2012
My 6 Degrees of Kevin Bacon
I have been told I resemble a variety of celebrities: Meg Ryan. Nancy Kerrigan. Leah Remini. Leona Lewis. None of them resemble one another, and I really don't see my likeness to any of them. However, all are pretty favorable to be compared to, so I am not complaining.
The other day at work, a teenager, who happens to have asperbergs, informed me that I look like Jon Bon Jovi....only in female form. At first I was insulted to be compared to a male 12 years my senior, but then I googled him.
And had to admit, that I could see the resemblance. We both have piercing blue eyes, kinda shaggy dishwater color hair, and an angular face. Mine minus the facial five o'clock shadow (I hope!). In fact, I can see myself in Jon Bon Jovi more than I can see myself in Meg, Nancy, Leona, or Leah.
(And, a strange aside here, if I ever was blessed enough to have a baby girl, her name would most likely be "Jovie".)
Now how does this all connect to Kevin Bacon, you may ask. Bear with me. It has been said that all people can be traced back to Kevin Bacon within 6 degrees, and I found my 6 degrees of Kevin Bacon......kinda.
1. I have always thought my brother, back before he got into drugs, resembled Kevin Bacon.
2. I have always mixed up Kevin Bacon and Jon Bon Jovi and can't really tell them apart.
3. The teenager told me I looked like Jon Bon Jovi. Since I get him mixed up with Kevin Bacon, I must also look like Kevin Bacon
4. Since I obviously resemble my brother, who happens to resemble Kevin, it stands to reason that, I too, must resemble Kevin on some level.
5. The teenager later said that I also looked like Kevin Bacon
So, there you have, my "connection" with Kevin Bacon in only 5 degrees.
It could always be worse, though, a patient once told a staff member that she (the staff member) reminded that patient of Sponge-Bob. The patient was blind. Like, for real, she was blind.
The other day at work, a teenager, who happens to have asperbergs, informed me that I look like Jon Bon Jovi....only in female form. At first I was insulted to be compared to a male 12 years my senior, but then I googled him.
And had to admit, that I could see the resemblance. We both have piercing blue eyes, kinda shaggy dishwater color hair, and an angular face. Mine minus the facial five o'clock shadow (I hope!). In fact, I can see myself in Jon Bon Jovi more than I can see myself in Meg, Nancy, Leona, or Leah.
(And, a strange aside here, if I ever was blessed enough to have a baby girl, her name would most likely be "Jovie".)
Now how does this all connect to Kevin Bacon, you may ask. Bear with me. It has been said that all people can be traced back to Kevin Bacon within 6 degrees, and I found my 6 degrees of Kevin Bacon......kinda.
1. I have always thought my brother, back before he got into drugs, resembled Kevin Bacon.
2. I have always mixed up Kevin Bacon and Jon Bon Jovi and can't really tell them apart.
3. The teenager told me I looked like Jon Bon Jovi. Since I get him mixed up with Kevin Bacon, I must also look like Kevin Bacon
4. Since I obviously resemble my brother, who happens to resemble Kevin, it stands to reason that, I too, must resemble Kevin on some level.
5. The teenager later said that I also looked like Kevin Bacon
 |
| Blue eyes, shaggy dishwater hair, angular face. |
So, there you have, my "connection" with Kevin Bacon in only 5 degrees.
It could always be worse, though, a patient once told a staff member that she (the staff member) reminded that patient of Sponge-Bob. The patient was blind. Like, for real, she was blind.
Friday, May 11, 2012
Starting a New Job
I really want to blog, but have no ideas what to write about. I could write about how Tino has become too smart for his own good. (He has finally learned how to escape. He is almost in the same league as Houdini. Though it allows him to make some new neighborhood friends, it about gives me a heart attack just thinking about the "what ifs". If he gets much smarter, he may just ruin the privilege of going out in the outdoor cat area, for him and for the others.)
Even though I already kinda blogged about that, I don't want to write an entire blog entry about my cats yet again.
When cats don't make good blog fodder, I guess that leaves work. In the last 13 plus years I have been at work, never has there been this much upheaval and change. Change is certain, necessary, and anxiety producing. Especially for me. Change scares me. It forces me to come outside of my comfort zone. I have created a nice little, sheltered box for myself and to venture outside of that box is much like an agoraphobic exiting their house for the first time. I feel like I can't breath; my tummy turns flip;, I want to run away back inside never to emerge again.
But without change, there is no growth. Growing and learning is fun and exiting! It keeps work interesting, and these changes have the potential to help me do my job even better. In the meantime, I feel like I am starting over at a new job. And maybe, I won't be as good at my new job as I was at my old one.
Even though I already kinda blogged about that, I don't want to write an entire blog entry about my cats yet again.
When cats don't make good blog fodder, I guess that leaves work. In the last 13 plus years I have been at work, never has there been this much upheaval and change. Change is certain, necessary, and anxiety producing. Especially for me. Change scares me. It forces me to come outside of my comfort zone. I have created a nice little, sheltered box for myself and to venture outside of that box is much like an agoraphobic exiting their house for the first time. I feel like I can't breath; my tummy turns flip;, I want to run away back inside never to emerge again.
But without change, there is no growth. Growing and learning is fun and exiting! It keeps work interesting, and these changes have the potential to help me do my job even better. In the meantime, I feel like I am starting over at a new job. And maybe, I won't be as good at my new job as I was at my old one.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Playing Favorites
Its been a while! I haven't been neglecting you, dear blog, its just that I have nothing to write about these days. I have been consumed with cell phone games, namely Draw Something and Words With Friends. Yes, those games are more addicting than ice cream!
First things first, Let me say Happy 2nd Birthday to my blog! The celebration, or lack thereof, happened just a few days ago. That momentous event did not go unnoticed by me, but again, I was too busy trying to draw a frog with my finger on my cell phone. So, Happy Birthday!
This post is not about not blogging, however. Nor is it a post about my innumerable obsessions. Instead it is about my CATS! After all, what else is there to talk about when nothing much is going on, right?
Tino is most definitely my favorite cat. Most "parents" don't admit they have a favorite, but I certainly don't hid that fact. I hope my other two cats don't notice the extra food in Tino's dish everyday or get jealous when they hear me utter "I Wuv you" all day long to my best buddy. But believe it or not, this isn't about him either. Nor is it about Milo, a favorite among many friends and family members because of his squishy face and gentle soul.
Nope, this time it is about Muffy. She is nobody's favorite. Don't get me wrong, I love her dearly; its just that her annoying habits are, well.....annoying. She licks at my bare skin, she claws on the furniture, and she chews cords.
Most of my cords in the house do have cord protectors around them, but this morning she found a bare cord to sink her teeth into. Don't worry, she didn't get electrocuted or anything (but would anybody really care if she did?). Oh, I would care deeply; I just don't think "outsiders" would give a rip.
So this morning she was chewing away, and I was annoyed. I kicked my laundry basket at her in hopes of scaring her away from the outlet, which did work. However, it also hit Muffy which startled her and possibly hurt her a bit. She walked away from that outlet, turned her little orange head towards me, and uttered a "fuck you" meow like no other.
I felt bad because my intention was not to hurt her. Well, she was pissed. She was so pissed that she didn't come running like she always does when I poured my cereal. Rather, she was hiding out behind my chair peeking at me with cat squinty eyes. Booring guilt into my soul. Immediately I apologized and walked over to pick her up for some "I'm Sorry" snuggles. But she ran away from me!! She ran downstairs. The ultimate shove off.
Tears welled up in my eyes thinking she was going to hate me forever. I had to leave for work and spent most of the day fretting over what I would come home to. Afraid maybe she pulled some cat shenanigans like barf on my bed or pee in my clothes. Or worse yet, that she would run away when she saw me.
None of that was so. In fact, as I am writing this, she is snuggled up on my lap purring. Maybe we both learned a lesson today, but I am afraid she will return to chewing on cords in no time. And, look, she got a whole blog post about her!
Now, if you'll excuse me, I must get back to drawing with my finger.
First things first, Let me say Happy 2nd Birthday to my blog! The celebration, or lack thereof, happened just a few days ago. That momentous event did not go unnoticed by me, but again, I was too busy trying to draw a frog with my finger on my cell phone. So, Happy Birthday!
This post is not about not blogging, however. Nor is it a post about my innumerable obsessions. Instead it is about my CATS! After all, what else is there to talk about when nothing much is going on, right?
Tino is most definitely my favorite cat. Most "parents" don't admit they have a favorite, but I certainly don't hid that fact. I hope my other two cats don't notice the extra food in Tino's dish everyday or get jealous when they hear me utter "I Wuv you" all day long to my best buddy. But believe it or not, this isn't about him either. Nor is it about Milo, a favorite among many friends and family members because of his squishy face and gentle soul.
Nope, this time it is about Muffy. She is nobody's favorite. Don't get me wrong, I love her dearly; its just that her annoying habits are, well.....annoying. She licks at my bare skin, she claws on the furniture, and she chews cords.
Most of my cords in the house do have cord protectors around them, but this morning she found a bare cord to sink her teeth into. Don't worry, she didn't get electrocuted or anything (but would anybody really care if she did?). Oh, I would care deeply; I just don't think "outsiders" would give a rip.
So this morning she was chewing away, and I was annoyed. I kicked my laundry basket at her in hopes of scaring her away from the outlet, which did work. However, it also hit Muffy which startled her and possibly hurt her a bit. She walked away from that outlet, turned her little orange head towards me, and uttered a "fuck you" meow like no other.
I felt bad because my intention was not to hurt her. Well, she was pissed. She was so pissed that she didn't come running like she always does when I poured my cereal. Rather, she was hiding out behind my chair peeking at me with cat squinty eyes. Booring guilt into my soul. Immediately I apologized and walked over to pick her up for some "I'm Sorry" snuggles. But she ran away from me!! She ran downstairs. The ultimate shove off.
Tears welled up in my eyes thinking she was going to hate me forever. I had to leave for work and spent most of the day fretting over what I would come home to. Afraid maybe she pulled some cat shenanigans like barf on my bed or pee in my clothes. Or worse yet, that she would run away when she saw me.
None of that was so. In fact, as I am writing this, she is snuggled up on my lap purring. Maybe we both learned a lesson today, but I am afraid she will return to chewing on cords in no time. And, look, she got a whole blog post about her!
Now, if you'll excuse me, I must get back to drawing with my finger.
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