Saturday - 5/6/00 AM
Been awhile since I've written... more than a week. Some crap from my real journal in the time that's passed:
4/28... "Meanwhile the days go drifting away & some of us sink like a stone" Got home at 7:00 & found a long non-message on my answering machine. Listening to C.Crows real loud..."I wish I had known to go out walking in the sun-- to find out if you were the one." Chasing rainbows again, Jan? Yes, indeedy. Sometimes it's the only way I can go on. Is it fantasy or faith? Here's a rainbow for you-- that wasn't any 'ol telemarketer on the phone… that was someone I’ve been waiting to hear from for a long, long time.
I’m eating the colors now. Just learn to be patient. It’s something I’ve always needed to learn. I afraid to let go of the curvy color bars. Hell yes, I’m afraid. Wouldn’t you be afraid? I’m still in the dark cocoon of my life. It seems like I’ve been here for a long time, a very long time… like I might never break free, never open my gossamer wings and fly. It’s scary but the real truth is always pretty fucking heavy, isn’t it? Most of the things that really matter are heavy, aren’t they?
Sometimes “only in my head” is a pretty neat place all things considered. I will learn to be patient, to listen to myself. I know I can’t stop shudderin’ and shakin’. Pretending it isn’t so doesn’t mean shit. Do you pretend it’s not raining when you’re out standing in the middle of a hurricane? “It’s a big enough umbrella but it’s always me that ends up getting wet.”
Who’s to say who is in denial??? (& we all know denial is more than just a river in the Amazon.) If that’s what you need to believe, then I’ll have to learn to live without it. “There’s a bird that nests inside you, underneath your skin. When you open up your wings, I wish you’d let me in…..I walk along these hillsides in the summer ‘neath the sunshine. I am feathered by the moonlight falling down on me…. Change, change, change.”
4/29… Took awhile to get that bed of Annabelle’s put together. Joe helped me because he’s the sweetest person I know. I slept alone but woke up feeling guilty We talked a little before we put the bed together. Both of us admitted we wish it could be like it used to be but it doesn’t work like that. I don’t know what’s going to happen. I never have known. It’s not up to me. I can only be true to myself….
Bill called. Marilyn & Jacobina ate calves’ balls at NIOSA. Steve brought Ellen over to visit twice, guess she’s crawling all over the place, her little knees and hands whizzing by. Lucky Dog has been eating up all the extra attention. Maggie’s been shopping, furnishing her house here and the one in Scottsdale—Bill says. I wish I was with them. I pulled the old wicker chairs that used to belong to Rita out on the upstairs porches. Nice out… 70’s. Joe is in the country, mowing. He took Growlf with him.
5/1… Sbarro, eating lunch alone, late, it’s almost 3:00. I wasted 24 hours sleeping alone… 8+8+8. I know it’s time to let go, past time. Screw patience, I’m just kidding myself.
Jackie and Linda, counselors from work, had to do a CISD this morning, result of the shootings last Friday. The one who got killed at the karate school was a Giant Eagle employee. (Giant Eagle is one of our biggest contracts.) He was black, twenty-two years young. His mother also worked for the store; had been there for 24 years. Brad helped me get materials ready, getting them out of a huge red binder labeled “Workplace Violence”. Brad explained it made big difference whether the debriefing would be for actual witnesses of a shooting vs. coworkers who lost a friend in a senseless crime… post traumatic stress vs. grief… this would be for the latter. The murderer was a lawyer who lived in Mt. Lebanon for crying out loud… not some hoodlum, not someone brought up in hard times in the ghetto, just some damn 30 something lawyer who still lived with his parents. One of the people he murdered was his next door neighbor. She had been the family’s next door neighbor since he was a child. She was Jewish. The whole damn world has gone nuts.
5/6… 5:45 a.m. Coffee’s brewing. I made the good stuff (3 scoops of the regular and 1 scoop of the special blend… Hawaiian Kona & French Vanilla.) A stick of incense is burning. Never have a clue what kind I buy, all those bins, all those smells. I just know the ones I like. I pay scant attention to their names, names like Midnight Musk or Chinese Jasmine. My heart is fluttering. Been too long since I had my drugs; the last ones were late yesterday afternoon… unless you count nicotine and caffeine and the Saint (we call it dinner.) I took my morning combination. Should be okay in a little bit, able to breathe anyway.
Speaking of not being able to breathe, the pressure building at work is incredible. I’m so far behind I can’t even stay in the same far behind place. They just keep piling on more and more and more… proposals & marketing packages, contracts. I never did this many contracts when I worked for a lawyer. A mass mailing had to go out to 2000, employees of the USO, a part of UPMC Health System that is doctors’ practices. They’re being sent a brochure and a two- paged photocopied letter. It’s junk mail for god’s sake. What a waste of paper and trees and time, energy & money. Queries needed to be written for the database to tell my boss how many clients over the past 2 years had alcohol or drugs as their presenting problem, be it primary, secondary or other. vs. how many clients over the past 2 years had alcohol or drugs as their assessed problem, again be it primary , secondary or other. Then another, the # of all clients seen in the past 2 years to divide into the other numbers and come up with percentages… It’s enough to make me want lots and lots of alcohol and drugs to calm my nerves. We’re getting new “Performance Management Standards” (stuff for our reviews), forms on which to report how well we’ve done or not. My assistant’s review is due at the beginning of June. Mine is due a few weeks later.
I’m living in a place with “Temps from Hell”. This week’s one called off 2 out of the first 3 days on the job. Claimed I gave her too much photocopying to do… her legs hurt. The clown who’s our representative at the temp agency (run by UPMC), wanted to know couldn’t I find other work for her to do? Like it’s my job to find suitable work for this poor waif while at the same time no one is helping me do what I need to have done. The rest of the staff kidded me…. “you worked her too hard” “what do you have back there in your office, a whip?” Even Rick, “Don’t even think about telling me your legs hurt—that excuse is taken.” To make a long story short, she showed up in my office at a quarter to ten, sulking, after I told the clown rep to get rid of her. We ended up having to pay her for 2 more hours & provide her with a space to eat her Egg McMuffin and Hash Browns which she stopped for on the way in.
Thursday, Joe had a dental implant implanted. I had to leave work at 2:30 to drive him home. (By the way, no, dental implants are not covered under our insurance. ) I had spent a couple of hours Wednesday evening, going through a dozen folders and whatnot, trying to reprioritize everything. At 2:30 Thursday afternoon that stuff was still in my briefcase. I hadn’t had time to open it since arriving at 7:45. I also hadn’t had time for a cigarette or coffee or xanax or lunch. It had been another one of those days and I was mad… not angry but mad, eyes bulging, hair standing on end, mouth frothing. I hadn’t even had time to log into my email thereby missing the ILOVEYOU virus until Friday (when I opened my box to find over 50 messages with that as the subject line.)
”You take what you’re given but I just had no intention of living this way. I need a phone call.”
I moved back into the bed with Joe, Growlf, Sheba. I was lonely. “I can bleed as well as anyone-- I just need someone to help me sleep.” It’s Saturday morning and I’ve been writing in here for over two hours. I don’t know any more than I knew when I began. I haven’t learned a thing in the last year. I’m as lost as I ever was… Some more thoughts *You can never know what will turn out to be significant *Not all people are operating the same way. It’s bad chemicals or bad jou-jou but something makes them go out and blow away 5 innocent victims. Maybe some of those 5 were looking forward to their futures, maybe some loved their lives. Countless others are horrified and incredulous when the machinery fails and the bastard goes out hunting and shoots them down. Meanwhile there are others who pray for an end to their own lives or the lives of loved ones, wanting the pain to stop. *Sometimes I want things to be as they used to be (impossible) or I want things to be totally new and different (unlikely)… a new life, a new love.
I dreamed Marilyn got a new puppy. He was very sweet, a little brown puppy you could hold in your hands, with big brown eyes and a tail that was skinny. I was holding this puppy, nuzzling him and he smelled like puppy. I was very happy for her to have a sweet little puppy to go with her (not so sweet, not so little) cats.
I dreamed I found a can of clear varnish and a brush, and I covered my hands with the lacquer. I don’t know why.
Maggie starts her classes today at Duquesne.
Heather has forgiven her friend. I have not. Lauren told her mother that she didn’t want to go out to this friend’s house anymore because he was never going to be her father and he was never going to be Heather’s husband and she doesn’t want to watch her mother get hurt again. Lauren blows me away.
I don’t want to hate men. I know some really special ones that are kind and gentle and loving. But I know so many others who are rotten, who hurt so many women with nary a second thought. Jesus was a He. Buddah was a He. That storybook version of God is a He with a long white beard who sits up there judging us and watching us fuck up over and over again, even though He is all powerful and all loving. How does this work? I don’t want to hate God.
Marty called and left me a long message on my answering machine last night. He said he loved me and Joe and Growl…. (it’s Growlf!) But wasn’t that sweet?
A close relative wrote me this week telling me how she wanted to run away once. But she couldn’t afford a hotel and the YWCA wouldn’t take women over the age of 30 so she didn’t. Now she can’t even remember why she wanted to run away.
A friend of my mom’s ran away one time, to our house. She had a little brown bag with her and in it she had a pair of white anklet socks and a bottle of Joy dishwashing liquid.
I remember when I was still married to John and one day I ran away to a friend’s house. I put Heather in her stroller and packed up her diaper bag full of bottles and diapers and powder. I couldn’t think what to take with me so I took a coke and some cigarettes and a box of Tide laundry detergent.
(What is it about detergents?)I remember when I finally did leave John, a few weeks later I tried to go back but he wouldn’t hear of it. He threw my guitar down three flights of steps and ripped the phone out of the wall. I didn’t realize his girlfriend had already moved in and taken my place. Did I ever tell you I really loved John with that stupid crooked smile of his and I would have done anything for him except what he wanted which was to quit loving him.
These stories stick to me like Silly Putty in my hair.
When you lose love, you lose a part of yourself, like a hole has been blown through your gut. Yeah, you heal over eventually but something, that part of you, is lost forever. Even in the best scenario, two people lose little bits and pieces of themselves when they are together. They make up for it with complementing layers that are created by their being together.
I’m rambling. Gotta stop. Did I ever tell you I carry my cell phone with me everyday to and from work. No one ever calls except for wrong numbers. But I carry it every day, just in case. Is it faith or is it fantasy?
Catch you later.
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Thursday evening, at work, should have been out of here a half hour ago. For once I was going to leave on time. Al Gore is in Oakland today and I heard they're closing the Parkway West at 5:45. Told Joe we should try to get out of here on time but he must be busy. As a rule I don't want to write in here from work but it is after hours and I have already worked four hours overtime this week so too bad.
I was thinking about looking for a place to sublet here for the summer... just to give Joe and I some space and time. But the rents are pretty high so guess that's out. If I wasn't working-- I'd go to Majorsville for awhile. I don't think I could stay there and work everyday here... my eleven hour day would turn into almost a 13 hour day. It's probably a stupid idea anyway... it's not like we fight or anything. We're really very compatible.
My useless temp is quitting this week and I'm getting a new one starting Monday. Hoping this time whoever they send won't mind doing a little bit of work... Karen and I are so swamped it's not funny. We both got nice cards for Secretary's Day and a $50 gift certificate to go out to lunch at the Wyndham Garden Cafe. If we can only find the time to do it. The counselors said they would take turns watching the phones/front desk so we could have 2 hours. Really sweet.
Marilyn & Maggie are in San Antonio. Feel like my best buddy has deserted me. Who will I drink with on Friday night? Half the time we don't even get together, just drink and smoke cigis and talk on the phone.
We're supposed to have a nice weekend, weather wise. Joe cut our grass at home the other day-- it was sooooo high but we haven't had time to go to the country and do any work down there. Front yard probably looks like a meadow by now!
Not the best of weeks but not the worst either. If I could just learn to accept the things I can't change instead of chasing down rainbows and such, life would, no doubt, be much easier. I cannot though-- I'm too stubborn and proud and somewhere down deep inside, I really do believe in these crazy things.
I can always hear a freight train
Baby, if I listen real hard.
The Joe man just called-- I'm oughta here.... thanks for reading.
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Saturday night, almost Easter Sunday
And I'm not too tired probably because I fell back asleep this morning on the couch and slept until 1:00 in the afternoon. Talked on the phone most of the afternoon, first to Merle then to Heather. Didn't really get anything together until 6 or so. We went out to eat then had to get stuff for Lauren's Easter basket and groceries, and wine & beer to take to Merle's tomorrow.
Think Joe's rethinking his idea of cooking that turkey for Easter dinner but it's too late now. I tore up two loaves of bread slices for stuffing. You're not supposed to have turkey on Easter... you're supposed to have ham. I'm very disoriented, not sure what we're celebrating or what time of the year it is. I'm not as disoriented as I'd like to be, not to the point where it doesn't hurt but that doesn't mean anything as far as time goes... might as well be winter or summer, doesn't make a whole lot of difference.
Just down the street from your hotel baby
I stay at home with my disease
Ain't this position familiar darling?
But all monkeys do what they see
Finally got up enough nerve to tell Heather a little about what's going on with me and her dad. So silly but I really didn't know how to approach her about it. I knew it would freak her out. Didn't want to do that. But at the same time, I can't live my life one way just so it won't freak people out. Think I've been doing that way too long now. It doesn't fit, the way I think, with the way other people want me to think. The things I want aren't necessarily going to make very many people happy but still, they're the things I want.
Anyway, I told Heather and she cried like I knew she would but she was very supportive. We were in her car on our way to Jenny's shower last Sunday. Heather was telling me about what was going on with her and her friend. For weeks she'd been telling me there was something wrong but not to ask her what it was because I didn't want to hear it. I had reached the point where I was heartily agreeing-- I didn't. Then she opened up and let it all out and I reacted more or less just like she thought I would-- horrified. I would have like to go wring the friend's neck right then and there. She hasn't decided whether it's over between them or not. I wanted it to be over with no doubts, immediately. I don't think I was nearly as kind to her as she was to me. I seldom am.
Joe and I were talking about selling everything, quitting our jobs and moving to the Outer Banks. We wouldn't leave Heather-- she's also been wanting to move there for years. I'm sure we could find some kind of jobs. I'm equally sure we wouldn't find anything as lucrative as we have now. I said it might be silly when we didn't even know if we wanted to stay together. Then said we'd both want to live close to Heather so it wouldn't be that silly. I don't know. Can a place make that much difference? I'd probably end up being just as depressed there as I am here.
Help me stay awake, I'm falling
Asleep in perfect blue buildings
Beside the green apple sea
I wanna get me a little oblivion baby
And try to keep myself away from myself and me
For those who've been writing to me lately, I'm sorry I haven't responded. It's not that I don't love you, it's just I can't focus very well, and don't know what to say. I know you all want to hear something different from me right now. Something up, not down. I can't do it. I'm no good at lying, I don't have the energy for it. It's all I can do to go to work everyday and pretend I'm okay for eight hours. The people there, of course, don't know anything is wrong. I've never even admitted to them I'm crazy. (I'm sure they're starting to figure it out.) Anyway, I feel bad about not writing or calling-- but just the thought of it makes me so tired, I can't see straight. I love hearing from you though-- it's one of the best things in my life especially right now when I'm so totally confused... it's something to hold on to.
Speaking of being tired, my trazodone must be kicking in-- I'm typing this stuff in and not even sure I'm not just dreaming it. Hope it makes some sense. Thanks for reading... love you.
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Monday - 4/17/00 - 8:25pm
She buys a ticket 'cause it's cold where she comes from
She climbs aboard because she's scared of getting older in the snow
Love is a ghost train rumbling through the darkness
Just hold on to me darling, I've got nowhere else to go
"How do you do?"
She said, "Hey, how do you do?"
It's raining and the whole world seems to be turning green-- grass, leaves, moods. If I were a color, I guess I wouldn't mind being green, unlike Kermit the Frog. Just got back from grocery shopping. Decided I'd rather write a bit than eat dinner so Joe's down there by himself tonight. I bought him lots of good stuff--rice, beans, cheeses, soups, tomatoes, bread and skim milk. Also got him some cookies, another reason why I decided to come up here and hide. I'm hoping I'll forget those cookies exist and when I'm done writing, I'll just go to bed, cookieless.
Almost screwed up royally at work. Friday morning my boss's boss's secretary called me and asked me to come down to their building and pick up a package for Rick to take to the hospital board meeting, which was scheduled Monday (today.) I said sure. Thirty some hours later, Saturday night, I remembered that I never picked it up. I didn't even know what time the meeting was going to be. I can't get into Rick's calendar through the web. Got in to work early this morning. The first thing I did was try to call LJ (the boss's boss's secretary) but she wasn't in yet. Sweated some blood then finally got up enough nerve to ask Rick when the meeting was taking place... thank god it wasn't until 2pm. Somebody up there likes me. Another day, another crisis...to quote the rolling uglies..."what a drag it is getting old".
Went to my cousin Jenny's wedding shower Sunday. Nice seeing her and Lynn, Kathy and Pat. Almost didn't make it. In the morning I freaked out and fell back asleep (what else is new.) When I woke up it was time to go but I still needed to take a shower and find clothes. Heather was driving and thankfully, very patient with me. The emotions flying around that day were thick, heavy-- you could almost see them hanging in the air. Love and happiness but also sorrow and despair. I'm praying for Pat's new little grandson. And Pat. And Ruth. And Peggy. And Marilyn. And Melinda. And Debbie. And Bill. And Jacobina. And Heather. And..... Marilyn says it's like on Romper Room where Miss Janey looks out through her Magic Mirror and calls out the names of everyone she sees at home. We look out our mirrors and pray for everyone we know-- everyone has such a big burden. Lynn, Mike, and Dave, and their significant others, gave Jenny and Tom an all expense paid trip to Atlantic City for their honeymoon. Neat. They are a very loving family.
Maggie got accepted at Duquesne for graduate school. She starts in May and will be working towards a Masters in mixed media (the web and whatnot.) She's very excited. I don't blame her. When we were at Lynn's house Sunday, we found out Lynn is going to graduate school at Duquesne also, for something very similar! Guess she and Maggie are hoping to take some courses together in the fall.
Well, unfortunately my trazadone isn't kicking in yet but I need to go to bed so I can get up on time tomorrow. Guess I'll read for awhile before I go to sleep. Thanks for being there (here?)
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Saturday, on our lunch break at my access class. Too nice out there to be in here but the class is going well. I had to scramble to get over here on time or so I thought. I had lost the schedule to the class, pulled out an old one and it said this class starts at 8. Didn't get up until 6:30 so I was hustling. No traffic so I made it here by 7:30 then found out the class didn't start until 8:30--- story of my life.
Ate lunch at Primanti brothers. Now the trick will be to stay awake this afternoon... would be so nice if I were down at Majorsville, laying under a tree with a cold beer and my real journal. Joe was going to try and pick up the tractor from having it tuned up. He & Lauren (& no doubt Growlf) are probably down there right now, looking at the creek, watching the blue heron. I have to stop thinking about this or it'll drive me crazier than I already am, which as we all know is pretty damn crazy.
Never get a chance to hear from anyone much anymore so I was really excited to get an email from my best old friend, Melinda. She is still intimidated by the whole process but it's about time Rick drags her into the 21st century! She was having her son Jason and his wife, Tonya, stay for the weekend. What a good soul she is.
Gotta go.... write more later.
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Friday night - 10:51 - April 14, 2000
"I took the cannonball down to the ocean
I watched the diesel disappear beneath the tumbling waves
Love is a ghost train howling on the radio
I remember everything because sometimes just a memory remains."
I should be in bed. I have an early class tomorrow downtown Pittsburgh. It's going to be fun trying to find my way from Grant Street to Stanwix (can you say "road construction?" ah, yes, that wonderful harbinger of spring has returned to the burg and now you can't get anywhere from anywhere.) It's an Access class, not as neat as an internet one but it should be cool. Coolest part-- I don't have to pay for it myself. It's all courtesy of UPMC. I can use the $200 bucks for something else I'm sure.
After fighting with myself the past three weeks, I finally opened my mouth and told the Director at work what I really thought about the temp. Had to do it-- my brain was going to explode if I didn't. The Director agreed with me-- the temp is more trouble than she's worth... but we don't want to have to train another temp right now. She said she'd have a little talk with her later this afternoon. Must have said something because right as the temp was leaving, she told me she didn't want the job we're advertising. Said she needed more administrative-type work. Whatever.
The street people I see at work are something else-- they've been putting on a spring fashion show lately. One guy squats down low on his haunches, his back up against a building, a plastic cup in his hand. He wears a three foot wide sombrero. He's no more Mexican than I but the hat is hard to argue with. After it rains, someone I never see hangs his clothes from trees off the side of the Parkway, on a narrow strip of land between the highway and the Mon river. The clothes always surprise me-- dancing in the morning sun, fluttering from bare limbs. I wonder where these people came from. Did they ever have any sort of "normal" home or have their lives been bizarre from the very beginning?
Earlier this week, on my lunch hour, I saw an old Italian guy. He gave me the most incredible smile when I first sat down at a table right across from his. He had maybe three teeth. He was chowing down on some spaghetti and for some reason or other he thought that was funny, very funny. He started laughing, guffawing really. Braying. I tried not to make eye contact. He got up to get another glass of water and said something nice to the girl at the cash register. She had a pierced lip-- looked painful to me. I decided to write in my journal so it wouldn't look as if I was just sitting there not looking at him. The only thing I could find to write with was the insides of a Bic pen. The end was lost and the tube wouldn't stay inside, so I just held on to the tube and used it to write... teeny-tiny in diameter. My hand kept cramping and I couldn't put any pressure on the tube or it might break and splatter ink all over me. The waitress/cashier peeked back around the counter a little while later and said to the old guy, "Are you still here?" He answered, shouting, in broken English, "Yeah, I'm a still here, right here in a United Goddamn States of America. I'm not in a California no more. I'm in a United Goddamn States of America."
Joe's babysitting tomorrow and again Sunday. Heather has to work tomorrow. Sunday, she and I are going to a wedding shower for Jenny Klick. Jenny had registered at Target-- it was the easiest present I ever bought in my whole life. I just entered a couple of her initials into this computer and it spit out three pages of gift ideas that she and Tom had picked out. It even gave you the aisle number where the items were located. Wish grocery shopping was that easy.
Well, it's after midnight-- I really do need to hit the sack. I'm going to be very sorry tomorrow morning that I didn't go to bed at 10 like I originally intended. Thanks for reading. Nighty-night.
"How do you do?
She said 'Hey, how do you do?'"
Adam Duritz
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April 9, 2000 - Sunday afternoon
"If you could read my mind love
What a tale my thoughts could tell
Just like an old time movie
'Bout a ghost from a wishin' well
In a castle dark or a fortress strong
With chains upon my feet
You know that ghost is me
And I will never be set free
As long as I'm a ghost that you can't see"
Up until today, we've been having a nice spring-- lots of days when it was warm enough to just wear a suit jacket and be comfortable. Today it's cold and been snowing since early morning. Not accumulating much but there is a white powdered-sugar coating the crabapple blossoms on the tree out back. Strange. The grass has been growing and we haven't mowed yet so it's green and long, almost wavy looking. I had to put a sweater on to sit up here on the 3rd floor (didn't feel like turning on the heat.)
Made some tentative reservations for the beach, the week of June 10th. I'll have enough vacation time built up to get 6 days by then. I need the extra day so we can stay over on the way down and back. Too spoiled to make the 12 hours in a one day trip.
Trying to talk Heather and Lauren into going with us. It's been a long time since they've seen the ocean. Heather had made plans to go to Pocono the end of that week (June 16) but she and her friend are on the outs at the moment so she's not sure she'll be going there. We told her she could come to the beach and leave a couple of days early-- we'd keep Lauren, if she wants to do both. Found a couple of neat houses available, one that I've always wanted to rent-- Whale Watch West. Very modern, all these neat angles. The bedrooms surround an atrium with a hot tub. If I make it 'till then, I don't guarantee I'll ever come back. Maybe I'll walk down the beach and disappear like the woman in the Anne Tyler book. Sounds good to me.
"
If I could read your mind love
What a tale your thoughts could tell
Just like a paperback novel
The kind that drugstores sell
When you reach the part where the heartaches come
The hero would be me
But heroes often fail
And you won't read that book again
Because the ending's just too hard to take"
Work is bizarre. The temp is still driving me nuts. This week she made an ethnic slur that I could've (& probably should've) had her fired for, no problem. I really considered it but then one day when she was out smoking a cigarette, I noticed the attache' case she carries still had the tag attached identifying that it came from Walmart or Big K. I couldn't do it. She had an interview with my boss for the customer service rep. position that he's creating(instead of filling my old assistant's job). If this woman gets hired, I will know that my boss is a complete idiot. She has no redeeming qualities. After her interview I asked her how it went and she expounded on how well-suited for the job she was-- like it would be a no brainer to decide to hire her. A few minutes later I asked her to do something and she turned around and snarled-- why didn't I ever give her something challenging and interesting to do? I wanted to take that Big K attache' case and pull it down over her head.
Joe's off tomorrow, watching Lauren (she has no school.) It shouldn't be bad driving myself in to work. I get to use his parking pass so that's cool. I got my boss to agree to pay for me to take some computer courses. The first one is next Saturday. I told him I'd go to the Saturday classes so I wouldn't miss work. At least it's something going in a different direction... I'm really lousy at being an administrative assistant, especially one who is supposed to supervise others. What the hell do I know about supervising anyone? If it were up to me, I give everyone the day off, every other day. Saw my old assistant this week. The first time I've seen her that I didn't want to kill her. I miss her to tell you the truth. She's very happy and challenged at her new job. She's getting ready to rub elbows with the rich and famous at the Mario Lemieux (sp?) Golf Tournament coming up in June.
Marilyn and Maggie will be going to San Antonio soon. I know they can't wait and will have a blast. Steve and Brene's sent us a picture postcard of baby Ellen that was too cute to be believed. What a doll. Last time I talked to Bill, he was finding all sorts of interesting family history, this time on my maternal grandmother's mother's side, the Greens. Guess the father was a very well loved Presbyterian Preacher in Nebraska City. There's even a web page about him but Bill hasn't given me the address yet. Once he does, I'll put a link to it from my site. Who'd believe we had a Presbyterian Preachers in the family... how very bizarre... he must have been horrified when his grandaughter (my grandmother) married a Catholic.
My head hurts, seems like a lot anymore. Must be the way my computers are set up, wrong angle or something. Either that or the way I sleep-- sort of starts in my neck and shoulder and works it's way up the back of my head and, when it's really bad, shoots out through my left eye. Hasn't made its way to my eye yet today but I'd better go take something before that happens.
One more thing though... in the continuing story of the tree that fell over in my next door neighbor's yard. One night this past week I came home from work and someone had replanted it with four strong new stakes and wires to hold it straight and fresh mulch around the trunk. It was like a miracle, like Lazarus, like someone lifting a twenty pound bowling ball from my chest. Hope it lives. Hope everyone out there is okay. Thanks for reading.
"And if you read between the lines
You'll know that I'm just tryin' to understand
The feelin's that you lack
I never thought I could feel this way
And I've got to say that I just don't to get it
I don't know where we went wrong
But the feelin's gone
And I just can't get it back"
Gordon Lightfoot