Subtle Glow

I am hoping that today goes better than yesterday. While clearing dinner dishes at the end of the day, I had a eyelid twitch or forty-billion. It was that kind of day.

The kind of day when technology tries to kill you, by making you want to die. It does this by crapping out. Things like a mysterious refusal to recognize the ethernet cable, and then refusing to find a wireless connection that is any faster than 1 MBPS.

ONE, my friends.

After I peeled my face off, I thought things would get better. Except I was very very wrong.

OH, with the HATE and IRE for the shortcut methods that have been wrought upon more technology, producing utter crap and rendering it useless to me or anyone else who had plans to use it.

Follow this with a laughable excuse for a meeting… oh let’s not get into that. In a moment of delirium (had not a drop to drink!) I signed an email to a colleague and a consultant with the following:

Bright and early tomorrow… can’t wait to see what the day will have in store! I’ll be mainlining the espresso shots - why waste time with all the sipping?

So, uhm, let’s just hope tomorrow is much, much better.

10PM PST - UPDATE:  The end of the day is here.  It was a much, much better day.  Much.

I have a taste for mashed potatoes and roasted chicken and blanched, buttery green beans.

This could be due to the fact that I’ve been too distracted to have any breakfast just yet and it is nearly time for lunch.

Anyway…

I feel kind of cheated out of my weekend. Half of Saturday was spent running Kiddo around to his last flag football game and then out for pizza celebration. Kiddo’s dad was there at the game, so I tried to run over to the bank and deposit my brother’s paycheck, since there is no Bank of Nevada here in California.  Alas, the bank was oh-so-sorry but they cannot take third-party checks, even though the payee was standing right there next to me AND I was not even trying to cash the check but just put funds into my account.  No dice, but they would be more than happy to open an account for him!  Well, ok then.  Except - he did not have TWO forms of acceptable ID.  Just a driver’s license.  The pay stub would suffice, except that was back at the house.  So we ended up heading back to the game to catch the last half and then head over to the greasy-pizza-fest.

The other half of the day was spent scrubbing down both bathroom toilets and showers, laundry, and general straightening. I kept sort of waiting for my brother to see me sweaty, grubby and elbow-deep in shower cleaner and offer to help. Yeah, not so much.

I was puzzled, and trying to find a way to understand it without using “it’s a guy thing” to explain it (because I really cannot stand that especially when used as a rationalization for cluelessness). I mentioned it to my mom and she help me realize that A) I probably can just ask him to help if that’s what I want, because B) He probably doesn’t think of it as “his” house, or “his” space yet.

It’s so strange, this whole “Hi there is a whole other adult person living here now.” Somehow my brain sticks on that “Hey, how about you just ASK for help? You know - see how that works for you when you open your mouth and SAY what it is you need?” I guess there is part of me that does not want to nag (oh, GAH! how I am annoyed when I have to ask more than once or repeat myself… because of this thing I have about - yep! you guessed it - ASKING for help) so it is difficult for me to just ask.

Anyway, that was Saturday. Sunday morning was spent grocery shopping, because again - WHOLE other person in the house now and WOW, I didn’t realize how much whole people tend to eat! Typically there is no one home all day, so that makes a difference. Also - it is summer and Kiddo is now home and THAT little guy can eat just as much as a whole grown-up type person if you let him. And by “let him” I mean he will eat an entire box of granola bars or a whole bag of goldfish crackers in one sitting if you let him.  SO.  As I was saying - Sunday morning we spent a few hours grocery shopping.  No sooner did I get home and unload and put it all away, it was time to drive up to my mom’s for a barbecue and swimming and such. Once home again, it was time for the bedtime routine and settling in for the night after preparing for the workday today.
I feel cheated out of the weekend because by the time I got to sit and relax as I like to do on weekends, it was over.

My scheduled vacation time just shrank by a couple days, because there is ONE day within the first three days I am out where I really kind of need to be here.  Given that, I figured what is the point of taking the day before off, then coming in the next day, then taking the next day off.  So I’m now moving the start day back a couple days…  but who knows maybe I will get greedy and tack those back on to the other end of the vacation.

Hi! Hello, how are you?  Long time no talk.  Bleh, the usual: busy; work; parenting; busy; summer vacation; etc. How about some random stuff, then?
Soon, I have vacation time - a whole week and THEN some.  It cannot be here soon enough I tell you.  Then later this year I am going on another vacation which is a cruise.  I have never been on a cruise, let alone a real-life family vacation with the kiddo - at least not one where we go somewhere to visit someone we know that lives in that location.  I hope he does not get seasick.

There is a work-related conference scheduled for later this year and we are being encouraged to attend.  It is being held in Las Vegas, and while that is a huge incentive for some people - I frankly have never understood what is so “awesome” about Vegas.  I really do not want to go, particularly because of where it is held.  But, we’ll see.

My brother is going through a really hard time right now.  I’m hoping I can help him get through it and put the pieces of his life back together in a way that will work for him in the long term.  Unfortunately the way the pieces used to fit together was not good, and sad as it may be they had to be smashed apart.  In the interim there is the requisite pain and anguish involved on his part of having his world crash down around him and trying to pick up the pieces and carry on.  I am concerned about him, I know he is strong and he can get through this, but he has to WANT to get through it.  He wants to, I know he does.

I suppose there is a part of me that has my own fears that he will change his mind.  That he will decide it’s too hard to start all over, and that the time and distance have served the purpose of getting him in the mindset to go back to his old life and put that one back together.  I know either way I have no control over it, and no matter what he decides that I will handle it and deal with it at that point.  It is hard to see him struggling and not rush in to try and fix everything, or to feel angsty over my inability to just “make it all better” which I know I struggle with anyway.

He’s going to be FINE.

Last bit of randomness:  I have a fourth grade son.  The hell?  It is simultaneously awesome and mind-blowing all at the same time.

Talk me off the ledge here.

I am trying to play it cool, but the word went out very recently that the reporting structure is being “tweaked” a bit.  In reality, nothing will really change for me on the surface.  It will all be pretty much transparent.  But in the next month or so my “on paper” boss will change.
Still, you know how sometimes you just won’t let things go, because of the “principle” of the issue?  Like when someone screws up and it turns out they overcharged you $20 for something.  It’s not that you can’t afford it, it’s the principle of it. That’s kind of how this is for me.  Because, I know that I won’t really approach what I do any differently, and I know that when it comes to daily priorities they will come from the same source.  But having said that, I also have to say I’ve had a really bad string of bosses in the past, and I finally (FINALLY!) have a great boss.  I don’t want to mess with it, and it makes me very nervous to think that it might be messed with.

I can be candid here, so I’ll tell you that part of the reasons I had for leaving my last two positions with two different companies had to do with the management.  There were other reasons, but one huge factor in the decision to move on both times had to do with management.  Lack of quality management, to be specific.  Lack of respectable managers, to be even more specific.
I was so happy when I got this job because I liked the work I was doing, it was in the same direction I wanted to go with my career, and once I got to know who I worked for, I was ecstatic because it was everything I was looking for at that end.

My boss tells me that nothing will directly change, and I’m trying really hard to trust him on that.  Personally, I don’t like when there are “unknown” factors, and it’s too early to know if the new guy has a whole plan on how he wants to shake everything up as a display of leadership.  Because, you know, sometimes people with new-found power try to prove they can handle it by thoroughly fucking everything up on behalf of their newly acquired authority.

Which is to say, I’ve been through the pains of becoming a direct report of someone who previously had zero direct reports.  She was a tyrant.  I left within a year.  So most of my thoughts and insecurities with all of this change have little to nothing to do with this particular change, and almost everything to do with my past experiences and my very strong desire to NOT go through that again, but also to NOT be miserable at a job and eventually have to face the fact that the only other option is to move on.
I like my job.  I don’t want to leave.  I want to be able to feel positive and secure in the knowledge that I’m doing a good job and will continue to do so with the way things are.  I want to regard this information as a “blip” on the radar because I want the reality to be that’s all it is.

I don’t want this to be a sore spot, but I’m lying at this point if I try to pretend that it isn’t, at least a little bit.

But, I’ll try.  I’ll give it some time, see how it plays out.  I’ll treat it the same way it is supposedly intended - merely a formality on paper but no real change in the overall big picture.   I won’t spend a lot of time thinking of alternatives if I don’t think it’s working out in a few months, but I will know by then if I’ll need to or not.

Hard to break.

Good Habits: Hard to Form.

A bad habit is staying up until after midnight on nights like tonight when you know your alarm will go off in 4 or 5 hours, and you have to be IN a meeting before 8am.

No, that’s not a bad habit.  That’s just stupidity.  Doing it repeatedly?  That’s a bad habit.

Yeah, that’s not good.

Right.  Now go to bed already, woman.

I wish I had an incentive to go to bed, if you know what I mean.  And I think you know EXACTLY what I mean.  *wink wink*

A girl can dream, I suppose.  But only if she gets her hiney in bed first.

Okay, okay!  Goodnight already.

Goodnight. or Good Morning, if you want to get technical.

Ha.  There won’t be much “Good” about any of it.  But if you’re lucky, there might be some coffee in it for you.

I sometimes wonder how often my instincts are right on and how often it’s just paranoia parading as normal.  I sometimes find my instincts were right all along and then I kick myself for doubting them.

This has nothing to do with anything, or anything relevant at least.  It’s somehow found itself winding its way down around the path from brain to fingers to keys to screen.

It’s dry. I’m blinking too much.  My eyes are gritty but I don’t know if it’s from the dryness or the blinking or the tearing trying to fight the dryness.  The flu is going around.  I’m running from it, and it hasn’t caught me yet.  It kicked my kiddo in the face today, repeatedly.  In November you should be chilled without a blanket.  He’s crying, shivering hot and he doesn’t understand why.

I know what you’re going through.  I know it feels awful but I promise, here - take this, I promise it gets better.  Soon.  Just give it time.  Have a drink,  shhhh.  That’s better, yes?  Close your eyes, I’ll kiss you make it better.  I’m here, just call, I’ll be waiting for you.

I have so many thoughts buzzing thorugh my mind these days, if I could sit still and still be able to catch them long enough to write them down I might be able to make some sense of it. In fact I don’t even know if it’s my thoughts running away from me, or the other way around. One minute I’m fine, the next I’m a hundred miles down a road of uncertainty and doubt and anger and confusion and, ugh - fuck it all. I don’t want to do this, yes I do, no I don’t. you deserve - something. Not just something but more. You should at least get as much OUT of something as you put IN to it. And all the while Warning Sign is running through your head like a melody - I missed the good part, and I realized… yeah the truth is - I miss you.

I’m not a fan of Goodbye. I started to say that I hate Goodbyes, but thought maybe that was too strong of a word.

Not all Goodbyes are forever, but in that moment, when you have to tear yourself away - sometimes it feels like it will be forever.

I started saying my Goodbyes after my parent’s divorce led them to live in separate states. Goodbye was an airport, usually at least an hour’s drive away. That drive was where I battled my emotions, fighting off tears that would come eventually anyway, no matter how hard I tried. Every time, without fail and no matter how much I told myself not to cry, or how many times I reminded myself that there would be another visit soon.

Goodbye was checked luggage, boarding calls, and escorted minors through intermediate airport plane changes. The same flight attendants who smiled hello to my brother and me as we boarded before everyone else, were the same who discreetly passed me tissues as I stared out the airplane window, no longer able to fight the tears as they ran silently, down my cheeks, dripping unnoticed off my chin.

I tried to enjoy every precious moment of each visit, but at some point the darkened sky of another day gone was enough for me to start feeling that familiar feeling. While I smiled and laughed through the days I knew I was counting down until the time would arrive for the Goodbye. If I smiled too much, or found myself too happy,it was enough to prick my heart and in the midst of my enjoyment I found myself fighting off the tears.

Eventually the day of the Move came, and for a while the Goodbyes were over. Still, after that I could never quite shake that feeling when it came time for the last hug in the airport terminal. When my brother moved out of state I would go through the same thing at the airport. That last hug, a smile that crumpled and wilted in seconds to tears. I would try, so hard, not to do it. With every muscle in my face tightened, I still could not hold off the quiver of a lip or the catch in my voice or a stray sniffle.

The tears fill my eyes and once they start I can’t shut them off. It’s frustrating and humiliating at the same time. I don’t even know why.

All I know is that I had to do it again today. I thought I would be okay, I thought since I didn’t actually have to go to the airport and walk him to the security checkpoint where we would have to part that I would be okay. I thought if I could just give him that last kiss and hug on my doorstep that I could do it with a smile and tell him how good it was to see him and how I can’t wait until his next trip.

Instead, the struggle started as we got ready to go out to breakfast. I found myself watching the clock, calculating how much time was left before Goodbye. We drove separately, in case he had to leave from there to start the drive to the airport. I realized that Goodbye might be in a parking lot, outside of our cars. He would get in his car and go one way, and I would go the other. The visit would be over and that would be the Goodbye.

I caught up to him on the way in and apologized - I tried so hard. I didn’t want to do this in front of him, in front of anyone. But there we sat through breakfast, me with my blotchy face and reddened features as I hastily flicked the tears away as they fell. I purposely didn’t make eye contact with anyone as I made my way to the restroom, splashed water on my face and took a few deep breaths to try and stop the scene completely. It worked, for a little while as we ate. I ignored the taste as I ate my burned hashbrowns, and bread that was undertoasted. But as soon as the meal was done and there was nothing to distract me from the thoughts I needed to shove away in order to push the tears away with them, they crowded in and I dissolved once again.

It wasn’t time yet, though. There was still time before Goodbye.
I was able to give him that last kiss and hug on my doorstep, and tell him how good it was to see him and how I couldn’t wait until his next trip. I smiled as I did it all through the sniffles and the tears and the thick lump in my throat.

Right now the house feels empty, because there’s someone missing from where my heart feels he should be. I will be okay. I always am. There is always a little relief that comes with the tears, after it’s done. The anticipation of it is over, and that is a relief.

But, oh my god, I hate Goodbyes.

Oh my gosh it is so good to be back. Did you miss me? Don’t worry, everything is fine now. Had a little snafu that took a couple days to get sorted out and it was BRUTAL not being able to come here and click-click-typey-type for that time.
Wouldn’t you know - just as my hosting got all hosed up my voice went out with it. My voice - and I don’t mean the stuff that comes out of my fingers and oozes onto these here fancy pages but the actual talky part - just up and left. Is that Irony, or Coincidence? I always have trouble figure that out. I blame Alanis. I think it’s coincidence in this case. It’s also fun that it’s a literal vs. figurative coincidence.

Uh, yeah, so anyway.

The worst part about it is that I had no voice and talking was quite the chore, but at the same time my blog was inaccessible to “talk” to anyone, as was a forum I host for all my girlfriends and I to chat without having a billion emails flying all over. I coudn’t talk OR type to anyone. All I could do was sit here with my own thoughts swirling around my brain. I guess I’m not all that comfortable being alone with my thoughts. Ah, perhaps that is why I blog.

See? Now I have all this thinking that I have been doing and now it’s just dumping dumping dumping out here.

While I was gone Kiddo had a birthday! Happy Birthday Kiddo. I’ll put up an entry with pics later. He wants a blog, so I’ll be setting that up soon, too.

I seem to have fallen into a rut. Over the past several weeks I have become more and more aware of the failings of this rut-like behavior. It seeps in at the edges of my interaction with my kiddo, and our day to day routines. I find myself short of patience because I can’t seem to follow through on any sort of routine, and yet I’m annoyed when things don’t get done the way I would like them to be done.
I think it became very clear to me after this entry that things were a bit amiss. Basically, our daily routine during the week runs something like this:

5:00am - alarm rings. I hit snooze.

5:07 - 5:35 - repeat the above.

5:42 - 6:30 - launch out of bed, shower, dress, grab breakfast shake, verify kiddo’s teeth have been brushed and he’s had something to eat. Rush rush rush to get out the door as soon as possible.

6:35 - 6:40 - drop off kiddo and daycare.

6:45 - 7:30 - commute to work.

7:30 - 4:30pm - work. That’s all I can tell you about it. Other than the fact that most days I don’t even leave my desk to take a lunch. 9 straight hours in that chair, in front of the computer.
4:30 - 5:30 - commute home.

5:35pm - pick up kiddo, head home and briefly think about what to make for dinner.

6:00pm - Open the refrigerator for the 5th time since we got home, stare balefully at the selection and wait for inspiration to strike.

6:01pm - ask kiddo if he’s even hungry yet (in what? the hopes he’ll just shrug and say dinner is over-rated, let’s skip it? Well, honestly - yes.) Hopes dashed as he responds that he’s “starving to death.”
6:02pm - Try the staring thing with the freezer, and then the pantry.

6:05pm - Offer to make kiddo a sandwich for dinner, selling it with the idea that it’s quick! He could be eating in a mere 5 minutes! As opposed to waiting 30 for dinner to be prepared. Feel relief mixed with guilt that I took the easy way out for dinner. Again. Vow not to make it a habit. For the third night in a row. Make him his sandwich and poke around for something for me to eat. Settle on stick of cheese.

6:15pm - 7:30ish - retreat to my room and check email, blogs, etc. IM with friends. Talk on the phone. Periodically check on kiddo who is either playing video games, watching tv, or playing on the internet. Encourage him to play outside, play in his room, read a book, or perhaps do a couple chores. Surprisingly he barely registers that I’ve spoken to him, which initially annoys me but soon after I am distracted by housecleaning that I very well could be doing. Wander back to the computer. Eventually herd kiddo into the shower and pajamas, shove guilty thoughts such as “what quality family time we spend together!” to the back of my mind, with the rest of them.

8:30pm - put kiddo to bed. Watch tv, talk on the phone, go online or do any combination of these, including all simultaneously.

11:30pm - Start nagging myself to go to bed so I don’t have to press snooze five thousand times in the morning.

Eventually go to bed, somewhere around midnight. Sometimes later.

The only thing that changes now that he’s back in school is that he is doing homework while I’m having a staring contest with the food in the fridge.

The thing is… I want to spend quality time with him. Ideally I’d like to get home and throw together a quick dinner that we would both sit down and eat together. Afterwards he helps me clear the dishes and we each do a daily chore. Then, we’d go outside for a walk. Once we got home there would be time for a bit of down-time (this is where a reasonable amount of video games for him or blogging for me come in) and then it’s off to the shower for him and on with the rest of his bedtime routine.

It seems so EASY to type. It’s on the following through that I am seriously slacking.

Who WOULDN’T want to get it together for this:

See what I mean?