Author: chrissy

Nope. Not Today.

I left work at lunch today.  I told my boss I was sick.  I’m not really sick.  I’m just sick of the bullshit.  I’m sick of the favoritism.  I’m sick of all of the talking that goes on, even more so now that we are on ten hours mandatory overtime, and I’m sick of nothing being done to stop it.  I’m sick of management not managing.  I’m sick of nothing mattering anymore.

I’m sick of my soul and I not mattering at work.

Wow!  Where did that come from?

I know it’s not the company’s job to make me or my soul matter.  It’s my job and if that is the case, maybe I am in the wrong job.  Or maybe I need to figure out what I need.

I’ve been thinking about what I want to do from now until I die.  I want to be doing things that are important.  Things that make my heart and soul sing.  Things that bring out who I really am and what really matters to me.  To have my job as an extension of me.  I want to create and do what interests me.  What calls to me.  What is in my heart.

This is what interests me:  writing, creating, organizing, making the world a better place, random acts of kindness, karma, chakras, kundilini ( not spelled right), positive energy, yoga, love, helping people, research and learning about new things and journaling.

I want to create a new job or jobs besides writing.  I want to bring more of myself out into the world than I am doing today.   I want more.

I want to get to know my soul.

I’ve had two strange dreams in the last week or so.

Dream number one.  “F you, motherf’r” I yelled after my husband as I was throwing things out the door after him.  (I have never done this or have even thought about doing this in real life)  I looked back to see my step daughter and her friend watching me.  “I hope they didn’t see the whole thing,” I thought to myself.  “F that.  I don’t care if they did or not.”  To me this dream says “Here I come.  ready or not.”  That I’m ready to put myself out there no matter what anyone says and that I’m ready to stand up for myself and what I create.  I am ready to fight for what matters to me.

Dream number two.  I was in a public bathroom that was just a room full of toilets. (and people)  No stalls and no doors.  To me this means that I’m getting more comfortable with putting myself out there and for others to see me as I am.  I’m not hiding behind a door.  I am willing to be seen.  I’m guessing at this.  I have not looked at a dream book to figure out the meaning.

I think as I go through my stuff and get rid of and/or shred what I no longer need the more I am letting my real self come out into the open.  I’m not buried beneath stuff.  I think some areas of me need to be heard/seen more than others.  Maybe this is why my job is getting to me now.  It’s because things that are important to me are coming the surface and they don’t match what my current job is.  Or even a little of what my current job is.

Do I even know what my soul is?  I say i do, but do I really.  This is something I need to explore.

I know I have to find time to write.  Working ten hours a day doesn’t give me alot of time to do this, but I need to find the time to do this.  I need to make time to explore my interests and see what comes to the surface and explore those things.

I guess I’m not fulfilled job wise right now and I want to be.  I want something fulfilling that I can do now and into retirement.  Basically for the rest of my life.   Something that I can’t wait to do when I get out of bed.  I do have a couple of ideas that I am working on.

My job has been very good to me, but it just hasn’t been the same these last couple of years with the new management.  It’s frustrating at times, but I get paid well for what I do.

Nope.  Not today.  I wasn’t feeling work today.  I knew I needed to get out of there and spend some time alone.  The 10 hours is getting to me.  I knew writing this post and going through some more of my writing and other things would help to calm me down.

I feel better.  Thanks for being with me on my journey.

 

 

 

Let Life Happen

I was driving thru an area of town not to far from where we moved from the other day. This is the area where I wished we found a house in. Sigh…

Let life happen.

These three words popped my head. I know the new house is where we are suppose to be. I feel that I have things to learn there and that it’s where we are suppose to be.

We lived in the old house for 10 years. I had a routine. I knew the area. It’s wasnt far from my mom. The south side of town is where I have lived most of my life. It was home.

Let life happen.

I know its time to move on. I really love the new house and the surrounding area. I am more relaxed. I am happier. Work and my mom really aren’t that far away. I love the drive. It’s more relaxing than I thought.

I feel myself more open to new things and experiences. I think I needed a change of pace and new scenery. I’m definitely looking at things in a new way.

The move has made me think of who i am and where I want to be. I feel I’m headed in the right direction. My head is clearer. Bits and pieces of the life that I want to live are coming to the surface.

I know I wanted to be in that same location but I have to let life happen and be open to knew things.. It’s scary to move out of my comfort zone and let life happen but its definitely worth it. If it takes me in a different direction then it takes me in a new direction.

I just have to relax and enjoy the ride.

I have to let life happen.

If I Am Being Honest With Myself

The place I work is celebrating 50 years in business this year. This past weekend we had an awards banquet at a very prestigious place with a very prestigious speaker.

I work a dressy tank top (Vera Wang), jeans shorts and flip flops. I did do my hair and wore two gold bracelets and a ring,

For the last two weeks at work women have talking about their dresses, having fashion shows and looking up hairstyles and shoes on the internet during working hours.  The amount of work time spent on this was ridiculous.

I thought about dressing up, but why? Dressing up just isn’t my thing.  I never did like primping, doing my hair or putting makeup on.  I just not me.  I don’t like to dress up. I don’t feel comfortable dressed up.  I didn’t want to dress up.  I couldn’t see dressing up for four hours.

I honestly didn’t have anything to wear.  I don’t dress up during the holidays.  Or any holiday.  I think the last time I dressed up was at my mother in laws funeral.  I can’t wear cool weather clothersin 85 degree weather.

I am a jeans and t shirt kind of girl.

I actually did try a couple of outfits on at Kohl’s, but none of them fit.  I ran into a an old friend I used to work with 20 years ago and ended up talking to her for 15 minutes. My time for trying more stuff on turned into grabbing three dressy tank tops off the rack and trying them on when I got home.

If I am trying to let go of stuff , why would i buy clothes that will hang in my closet that I will probably never wear again?  If I’m honest with myself that would be stupid.  A waste on money and closet space.  My husband and I are homebodies especially now that we bought the house. We only place we go is to menards and home depot.  We don’t dress up and go out.  We never have.

I could have went shopping the next morning, but I decided on the dressy tank top because I know I will wear it again.  The first top I picked out was the one that looked the best and fit good.  The other two tops have been returned to Kohl’s.

I was worried on the way to the banquet that I made the wrong decision.  Maybe I should have spent more time and actually bought a nice outfit.  When I walked into the building I saw a few other people that weren’t that dressed up and I knew I had made the best decision for me.  I didn’t waste money on buying something I wasn’t going to wear again.  I didn’t waste that much time trying stuff on.  Instead I spent time catching up with old friend I  rarely see because she lives in Canada.  And I don’t have to store it.

I had a great time that night.  I was me.  Even though I wasn’t wearing a dress I was comfortable with what I was wearing.  I smiled.  Laughed.  Danced around.  I was confident and it shined through.

Sometimes you have to listen to your gut and do what feels right instead of doing what everyone else is doing.

Gratitude Sunday: Remembering My Dad

Since my dad died three years ago, Father’s Day is the worst day of the year for me.  I’m depressed for two or weeks before.  I want to stay and bed and do nothing.  I think it’s because of all the Father’s Day commercials that are on tv and basically every where.

Remember dad.  That’s what the commercials say.  My heart says.  I didn’t forget.  How can I forget?  I will never forget.  He was my world.  My hero.  He was my dad.

I wish I could crawl in a hole today and just disappear until tomorrow.  I wish I didn’t have to visit my dad’s crypt at the cemetery.  I wish I didn’t have see all of the dad’s going out to eat or doing special things with their kids.

But I can’t.

So instead I’m going to do is make a list of what my dad taught me and the values he instilled in me and be grateful for the time we had together here on earth.

The gift of laughter.  My dad was funny.  He was always saying something funny to make people laugh.  I remember a couple of years ago I took my dad to his doctor’s appointment.  He looked at the doctor and asked, “My daughter looks good for being 60 doesn’t she?”  I slapped him, but I laughed.  He laughed.  Doctor Brian laughed.  I was 50.  The zipper of his pants was always down.  My mom was always tell him to zip up.  If you commented on his zipper being down he would tell you “What can’t get up, can’t get out” or “I’m trying to keep my tool cool.” I just shook my head.  He always joked around and one of his favorite ways to irritate my mom was to tell people that he watered my mom’s plants at night by peeing on them.   One of favorite memories happened 20 years ago at Road America.  We were at the Indy Car races and the lady was singing the National Anthem.  We are standing on the bleachers.  There had to have been 100 people around us and in the middle of the National Anthem he yells out “Will someone shoot the bitch?”  OMG!  I was so embarassed.  My mom was embarrassed.  My friends and the people around us thought  it was hilarious.  Everyone started laughing.   The lady was terrible and totally ruined it.  He shouldn’t have said anything, but that was my dad.  Off the cuff.  He spoke how he felt.  There was definitely no filter on that mouth.

A giving heart.  My dad would give you the shirt off his back (my mom too) if you needed it.  If you needed his help all you had to do was call and he would do what he could to help.  There were several times in high school my friends didn’t have a ride to get to where I was at (maybe the skating rink) and he would pick them up and give them a ride.  He would always ask me if I needed money.  If he had it his way and had the money he would have bought enough land for all of us kids to live in seperate land on his property.

His love of shooting pool (billards).  My dad loved to shoot pool and was a hustler in his twenties.  We’ve had a pool table in our house ever since I can remember.  He taught all of kids how to shoot.  In high school we would play to 100.  Whoever got 100 balls in first won.  You shot until you missed and it was the other persons turn.  I never won.  I rarely made it to 50, but after high school I went to the bars (I was legal at 18) and started to shoot on a league.  Throughout my 20’s and 30’s I continued to get better to the point that I would beat him.  He got mad, but he was proud.  I loved to stop in at his house and share my story of some cocky guy strutting his stuff in the bar thinking he could beat me because I was a girl and me handing his ass to him after I kicked it.  Those stories made both of our days.

Saving change.  Ever since I can remember my dad has saved change.  He always had coins jingling in his pocket.  We would ask for them, but he rarely shared his change.  “The coins go in the bank,” He would tell us.  His banks were “I dream of Jeannie” bottles.  The tall, decorative bottles with the tapered neck and the big bottoms.  I remember he had a orange bottle that my mom found him at a garage sale.  My parents saved their money for vacations.  After we graduated, my dad rolled his coins and saved it for a rainy day.  Saving change has always been a part of my life.  I have saved my own change since I started babysitting.  My husband and I save our change.  When my husband and I got married we had a memory candle to remember all of the important people that weren’t there. (My dad was still alive).  After we moved I found the memory candle and I got rid of the candle, but kept the candle holder.  It’s glass and has an really pretty saying about remembering people that we have loved and lost.  I repurposed it to “My pennies from Heaven” holder.  My dad was always picking up up coins from on the ground, from coin releases on pay phones and candy and cigarette (remember those???) machines.  I know my dad is with me when I find a penny.  I take it home and put it in the jar.  I wonder how long it will take me to fill it up.

His love of camping.  My dad grew up about five hours away from our house.  Every summer we would take our pop up camper and my grandma for a week to visit his aunts and uncles.  Back then it was pit toilets and no showers.  I liked seeing my relatives, but I really hated the pit toilets.   I loved sitting around the camp fire at night and walking and hanging out during the day.  I loved being with my dad.  Anywhere.  I remember walking to the bathroom with my dad at night with our flashlights and making  patterns in the trees.   (Even now I walk to the bathroom when we are camping every night.  With my flashlight in hand I make patterns in the trees.  I wonder if he can see me).  I think of my dad and the good times we had.  After high school I didn’t go camping again until I met my husband.  He, too, loved camping so we bought a trailer and before my dad passed he and my mom would come and visit us when we were camping.  It was cool to be able to share that with him.

My love of M&M’s.  I loved m&m’s since I can remember.  My mom told me a couple of years ago that’s how my dad potty trained me.  If I went to the bathroom I would get one m&m and if I didn’t go I wouldn’t get any.  I always thought my mom potty trained us.  My dad must have always gave me the brown ones because those are my favorites.

My dad was a special person.  To this day my cousins still tell me that they wished they had my parents as their own.

I miss my dad dearly.  I miss him every day.  I miss seeing him sitting on my parents deck smoking a cigarette (which I hated).  I miss hearing him calling me “kid”.  I miss seeing him smile.  I miss watching football with him.  He’s a Packer fan.  I’m a Steeler fan.  I miss him in my new house even though he has never been there.  I wish he could come and see it.  I wish I could see the happiness on his face when he see it for the first time. (He hated me living at my old house).

He made my heart smile and I was very lucky to have him as my dad.

I love you, Dad.  Happy Father’s Day.

 

Possessions and Emotions

I’m beginning to understand why hoarders hoard.  As you may know, with this move I’ve been going through my stuff and I’m not entirely happy with what I have been finding and learning about myself.

While unpacking this week I found 11 college ruled (my favorite) notebooks in a box and 4 other notebooks in other boxes.  Why I felt I had to have 15 notebooks I have no clue.  It’s not like there is going to be a notebook shortage in the future and I will run out.  As far as I know, notebooks are made every day

Even though I haven’t used any of them I know why I bought them.  I can’t believe I’m actually admitting this to the world.   I liked the purple color of the cover of one notebooks.  I liked what three of the notebooks said on the front cover.  I liked the flower design on the front cover of two notebooks.   On two of the notebooks I liked the border around the edge of the page.  I know.  Sad, but true

I’m sitting here shaking my head.  I don’t need all of the notebooks so why did I buy them?  I have one notebook in my truck to take notes in or to take in a restaurant with me to work on my novel or blog posts and I have one notebook in the living room to do the same.  But, even so, I currently have four notebooks that are being used for this purpose.  (While we were moving I couldn’t find the notebooks so I bought new ones  Don’t ask).  So why would I need more? I have no clue.

Realizing I have 15 notebooks brings up a lot of emotions.  I can’t believe I’m sharing this with the world, but here it goes.

Embarrassment.  I can’t believe that I have 15 notebooks.  How did I let myself get 15 notebooks?  (This is why I had to get rid of the hutch.  It was helping me hoard)  How did I not know I had 15 notebooks?  It’s so ridiculous to me that I would spend money on buying something I already had more than enough of.  Also, it makes me realize that I really don’t know myself and I how I operate in that area of my life.

Overwhelmed.  I learned that I buy stuff based on feeling.  Not if I need it or not, but on feeling.  That’s not exactly the smartest way to shop.  Yesterday I went through my notebooks.  I sat in my notebook shit and dealt with all of the feelings that came to the surface.   I’ve decided to keep 3 or 4 notebooks.  Maybe two.  I just can’t keep all of this shit.  I’m going to donate the notebooks to a local school where people who really need them can use them.

Anger.  Why am I a hoarder?  What part of myself do I have to change to become a non hoarder?  I am pissed off because that money could have been used to buy other things.  I know I am being too hard on myself but what the hell was I thinking?  15 notebooks?  Seriously?  I can only guess how having these notebooks and other stuff have clogged up my life so I couldn’t let stuff I really wanted/needed in.  Maybe this is why I have issues with money.  I buy stuff I really don’t need.

Sad.   I think on some level I knew I was a hoarder, but I didn’t want to deal with it.  I know I have to let go of this unneeded stuff and I’m sad.  I know it’s going to open up my life to let knew stuff in, but still I’m a little sad.  For some reason I enjoy having stuff.

I feel like a dumb ass for having the notebooks.  I’m suppose to be an adult who is capable of making competent decisions.  I’m seeing a part of myself that I didn’t realize fully was there.  At 53.  What the hell took so long.

Excuse me, but I must go.  I have to find a box to put my notebooks in so I can take them to a good home.

I’ll be going through my  hoarders pile of books next.   Oh shit.  I’m in trouble.

 

May Anthony and Kate Rest In Peace

I just learned of Anthony Bourdain and Kate Spade’s suicides over the past weekend and I am shocked.

Why?

I guess what I don’t understand is why.  How can someone be that depressed that they don’t want to live anymore?  I can honestly say that I have never had suicidal thoughts.  I have to admit I live a charmed life.  I am happy go lucky.  I look at the positive side of life.  I believe that God doesn’t give me anything I can’t handle.  I am lucky.

I don’t know the other side of the coin.

Two girls (one of them was her best friend) my niece hung around with killed themselves.  They were 13 and 15.  We were worried that my niece would follow suit.  She has had so many people die in her short 16 years.  Both grandfathers, a favorite uncle, a cousin (by suicide), three dogs, numerous cats and other people.  Today she is on solid ground.

Or is she?  She seemed to be this weekend.  We had a really great time this weekend, but I worry about her.

We never know, do we?

I loved watching Bourdain’s show and learning about different countries.  I loved Kate Spade’s handbags.  I would have never thought they would commit suicide.  WTF???? I thought they had it made.  That shows you how much I know.  The news shakes me to my core.

I am in shock.

How do we know?  I don’t see my niece a lot, but I try to text her every other day.  Whenever I hear “our” song I text her.  Oooh   Oooh  Shut up and dance with me.  (Lyrics from our song).  She asked me why I text her the lyrics.  I told her to let her know I’m thinking about her and that I love her.  Now she texts me when she hears our song.  I text her words of encouragement and thoughts for the day.

She has really came out of her shell in the last couple of months.  She’s isn’t so afraid to talk to people and ask for what she needs.  She has really matured.  She seems happier.  More outgoing and enjoying her teen years.  She’s even going to school functions.

But after hearing about Anthony and Kate maybe I am wrong.  Maybe she’s feeling the way they maybe felt and I just don’t see it.

My brother’s friend, Keith, committed suicide when they were in high school.  My brother took me to his grave a couple days after the funeral.  I cried and I cried.  There were flowers and pictures and balloons on a his grave.  I could see how much he was loved and how many people cared about him.  I always wondered if he saw it and if not why?  I was so apparent to me.  Maybe it wasn’t to him.  That’s what I don’t understand.  Why couldn’t he see it if I could?

I know I am rambling (and thanks for reading my ramble), but I realize now that I really don’t know anything.  Do we really know anyone or the pain they are feeling?  We may think we do, but do we really?

I have a lot to learn.  About my niece and about suicide in general.

My heart goes out to Anthony’s and Kate’s family and friends.  My heart breaks for them.

Rest in peace Anthony and Kate.  I won’t forget you.

 

Gratitude Thursday

I had a crappy day yesterday and today is not much better. This 10 hour mandatory overtime sucks. I’m tired of it. It doesn’t make for a wonderful workday so I’m going to do what I did last week and list the things i am grateful for.

1. That it is almost Friday. Yeah!

2. Vacation. I’m taking a half day tomorrow.

3. For a girls weekend trip to Madison with my mom, my sister and my niece.

4. For the awesome new kitchen table and six chairs I bought with my 20 year award money that my employer has wrote a check for. It is awesome

5. For the fact that I am home and going to bed. I’m beat.

Not much happier but grateful.

One Of My Favorite Things

I love this little planter. It’s an old kettle that I bought a garage sale. I had my husband drill to a hole in the bottom so the extra water can run out.

I have done this several times in the past couple of years. I find something interesting at garage sale and instead of using it for it’s intended use I use it as a planter. A couple years ago at a garage sale in a swanky part of town I bought a really pretty green fruit bowl with beautiful red and green decorative handles. I was talking to my mom about my plans to use it as a planter and the lady having the garage sale looked horrified. “You’re going to use it as what?” I swear she wanted to buy it back.

I haven’t been to many garage sales this year so I haven’t been able to look for any unique planters. I can’t wait to go and and some really cool old stuff. Like an old spittoon. I think that would make great planter.

In the old house I had 15 planters on the deck and along the driveway. I had 3 or 4 hanging baskets every summer. This year I have 5 planters and 1 hanging basket. Quite a difference but definitely simpler. I have my favorite flowers. Daisies. I love the daisies that open during the day and close at night. The purple ones are my favorite.

I love my flowers. I smile everytime time I walk out the door and see them. I am one lucky girl.

Gratitude Wednesday

I’m writing this because today sucks. I have some kind of stomach bug and I’m not feeling well. I’m crabby as hell. And we are on 10 hours of mandatory overtime. Not a good day.

I thought if I listed 10 things I am grateful for it might change my mood so here it goes.

1. I’m grateful for chocolate shakes, Cheerios and crackers because that’s basically what I’m living on. These items make my tummy feel better.

2. For Wendy’s being so close that I can swing thru the drive thru and grab supper.

3. For my half hour lunch hour that let’s me escape the madness of work for a little while.

4. My job. Even though it doesn’t fulfill me anymore and I know this I’m still grateful. I have a job, health insurance and money. Yeah! And a unfinished novel.

5. Its 10 degrees cooler than yesterday. Thank God. These last couple 90 degree days have sucked.

6. My phone. I can type on my lunch hour and breaks on my phone and edit it on my computer when I get home.

7. To be able to breathe. I’ve been doing some deep breathing while I tell myself “I let go”. It’s been working. I’m not as stressed as when I got to work.

8. The cows I see on the way to town. I love these cows. They make me smile. I have one picked out to take home.

9. Indoor plumbing and toilet paper.

10. My bed and new sheets. So comfy.

Focusing on what I’m grateful for definitely made my day better. I still feel like crap, but focusing on what I am grateful for has helped me not to focus on the small piddly irrations of the day. Mostly people.

I’m grateful for that.