Dear Blackberry Guy...

I'm so glad that you were able to pull that little sleight of hand on the plane today. When the flight attendant told you to turn your Blackberry off so we could land you palmed it like a cheap magician and as soon as the wheels touched down you pulled it out from your armpit and resumed typing.

I'm so glad your life, my life and our fellow passenger's lives were less important than the message you were typing.

Loser.

End note: I'm traveling today... again. Trip number 2 of 3 in four weeks. The best part is I get HBO in the hotel so I can watch Elizabeth I. Helen Mirren rocks.

The perfect job

So in the enthusiasm of my youth I thought there would be such a thing as the perfect job. I wasn't going to fall in to some career like my father did, uh-huh. I was gonna plan for it and make it happen and spend the rest of my life making amazing money and loving every minute of my 8- to 5.

I think perfect jobs are a myth. Granted, there are some very cool jobs out there: greeting card writer, book editor, park naturalist, travel writer or a movie reviewer. There are people making a living as ice cream tasters, for pity's sake! But even those jobs probably have their drawbacks: writer's block, lost luggage, brain freeze.

Just for the record, while I never found the "perfect job", I did find one I liked. I feel incredibly fortunate when I have a day that feels more like play than labor. I do feel a little green now and then when I see people making a living as stage actors, Food Network execs, talent scouts and merchandise buyers. But all in all I feel pretty grateful that I didn't make a mistake when I signed up for all those writing classes and schlepped my way through my MBA. Granted, my career's taken some pretty wierd twists but all in all I think I'm one of the fortunate ones.

Not that I wouldn't still love to be the Wildlife Manager at the Hilton Hawaiian Village. But I'm pretty happy being a marketing geek at a Small-to-Midsize Manufacturer in the Midwest. If this is where I retire, so be it. But please God don't let it be with the same title, pay and position.

Feel Inspired: Love My Job

Friday afternoon again

I'd like to be anywhere but at work. Oh, OK. Maybe not getting day surgery or buying a car, but still.

I keep mentioning the four-legged senior center I'm running but it's becoming more and more apparent that some of my furkids are feeling a bit south of good these days. Dusty, my long-haired Maine Coon cat (that's him expressing his opinion of my blog lately) spends the better part of every day sleeping on the bed now. This does not make him unique among cats, I know. But lately it seems that he's hardly ever up. He doesn't stay by my side like he used to and when you walk in a room he gives you this groggy, disoriented look like he just not feeling well. Even T has noticed.

I know I will cry buckets when I lose him. I know I will be ridiculous. People will think I've gone fruitloops. But I'm crazy about him, he's hands down the favorite pet of my adult life. No critter on earth has made me feel better when I have been sad than this guy has.

By the way, pets are great therapy. Especially when you're lonely.

As for Friday afternoon: it's sunny. I'm inside. We need rain. Gas is expensive. That's what I'm worried about -- drought and fuel costs.

Oh, is it time to go home yet???

The end of the week

I am the only one here. At 10 minutes to 5 p.m. on Good Friday afternoon, I am completely alone in my department. 7 people are on vacation or otherwise absent. Not me. I'm like freakin' Lassie. Sit. Stay. Golly, I must seem stupid. It's 88 degrees! And sunny!

On the bright side, I've gotten a lot done this afternoon. My last post was about the inevitability of work-related fires. I didn't know it was a full moon this week or I'd have known, maybe, how bad it would actually get. It was much worse than I expected. It took me the rest of the week to get 3 things done on my list. One per day. And I added that many more just a few minutes ago. "Go to Jail. GO Directly to Jail. Do Not Pass Go. Do Not Collect $200."

A belated happy birthday to the love of my life, who celebrated his 42nd birthday with lots of Italian food and an early turn-in from food coma. Last night we extended the celebration a bit by going to see "Married Alive" at the American Heartland Theatre. It was a great date night. He never reads this blog any more because, well, he just doesn't want to know. But Happy Birthday anyway, honey.

So I'm hoping to take my blogging in a more professional direction (in addition to this highly unprofessional personal blog). My boss is really high on the idea of a blog for our retail animal health business. I'm excited about doing it -- or I was three weeks ago. I'm still waiting for the webmaster to set up a spot for me on the website and it's not his priority right now. Don't think it's even in the top 20, actually. So the shine is sort of off the penny but once we get it going it should be great. Very radical idea for a little company like mine. So very 21st Century.

Side note: if womens' clothing manufacturers want to put back pockets on pants to break up the wide expanse of my ass, that's fine. It makes total sense. But I will never actually use the pocket and in the meantime it's just creating a bunchy, lumpy, flashing neon sign that says, "look at my butt. And while your eyes are down there, check out my panty lines too." Ugh. I need to take In Style's advice and cut the pockets off and sew them up.

Sigh. TMI, sorry. As I said, I'm all alone. I've gone a little buggy. And now I'm going home.

Happy Easter. Happy Resurrection Day. And in all sincerity, thanks to God for Your gift. Only You knew how much we would need a Messiah.

The end of the day

Why does it always seem that I don't get really productive until everyone else's day is over?

I love, love, love the silence of an empty office. I love the act of getting organized for the next day. What I do not love is knowing that no matter how carefully I plan, tomorrow will come and bring with it another fire. And all my organization will go to blazes. Big bright orange flames.

I am this way at home, too. I do my best work at 9p.m. when T has tucked in for the night. I guess I am and may always be a bit of a hoot-owl.

On another subject, camping was the best... although too early for mushrooms. But we took the dogs and they did great. So funny, they were absolutely confused and delighted. Makes me wish that we'd made them inside dogs from the very beginning. Next time, we will have an inside dog -- but after the aging zoo I'm keeping dies off I'm limiting myself to one cat and one dog and no long haired cats or super-shedding mutts. Which means probably not the Sheltie I've always wanted. But that's ok. And hopefully, way down the road

Spring comes

...blogs go to hell.

Looking forward to the weekend... we are going camping for the first time since Labor Day. Seems a long long time and so much has happened since our last trip, but what a relief to get back to a routine that gives us both so much joy. I can't even tell you how happy it makes me to do this simple, normal thing.

Got a lot to get done between now and then... this will be the first time we've ever taken the dogs, too. Abby the famous D-O-G can't be left alone any more... afraid she'll get down and not be able to get up. Besides she needs her arthritis pills. Drugs for everyone these days. She and T are sharing a bottle of glucosamine, the good news is I don't have to coat T's pill with peanut butter for him to take it.

I hope there will be mushrooms but even if there aren't any at all I know we'll still have fun.

Inside my Head

Outside my head, things are very much as normal. The prep work is progressing on the home improvements we've planned. The taxes will be filed in a timely manner. We are eating our way through the ridiculous amount of food we have in the freezer. I am gaining weight, a temporary setback, I think.

Inside my head, things are peculiar. There is something else entirely going on.

Last Friday I attended a funeral for the Cat's grandfather. Her family was basically my surrogate family from the time we met as 8-year-old third graders. My family was pretty much imploding and they gave me a soft place to fall. I spent summers, holidays, weekends and sometimes weekdays under their roof and in the barn, creek, back fields and front 40. I pitched in with chores, got in trouble, got punished and got to be just another one of the kids. Despite the fact that I moved away in 8th grade, the Cat and I stayed tight and from age 16-18 1/2 I also dated the Cat's brother, a.k.a. the First. Since the First and I broke up in 1985 I have been very shy to go back for reasons I don't even think I can even put down "on paper". I've made only a handful of appearances.

But, on Friday, I did. I went back. I saw the Cat, her sister, the First and the parents. Also her cousins, her grandma and a collection of other fringe characters. I was ashamed: I cannot explain why I have been hiding all these years. But I have. I love them just as much now as I did then only with the appreciation of a grown-up who understands what a gift that time was. Yet I cannot tell them.

And so we spent a little time. We watched videos of us kids as preteens/teens (like having sharp nails dragged across my bare skin). We played cards. I took a long look at the First's kids. I felt the camaraderie of the Cat's kids, who were probably as overwhelmed as I but still pretty fun to talk to. I put the Cat in my car --- and at that moment it felt like we were 17 again and not a day, not a year, had gone by. I spent a day being buffeted repeatedly by the waves of memory and emotion. It will take time to sort it out.

Also K & A are in my head and not in a happy way. We can't all go on ignoring one another, although I'll be the first to admit this would be easier than dealing with our problems. I'm at a loss. I'm angry but I miss them.

Inside my head is the burden of mistakes made, of time, memory, sadness, regret, love, hope and hopelessness.

Outside my head it looks like just another spring day.