Today Sucks

 

I’m not finishing NaNoWriMo.  I’m still working on the first draft of my  novel, but not at 1,700 words a day.  I tried my best to write 1,700 words a day, but with the busy week I had last week and then walking away from the house we put a bid on was just too much.

I never knew trying to purchase a house would be this difficult.  We walked away this time because we felt the seller was trying to hide something because they didn’t want us to get the home inspected AND they wanted more money.  I’m sure they wanted more money to pay for part or all of what they knew was wrong with the house, but I wasn’t going to pay more or NOT get the house inpected.  The counter offer didn’t leave me with a good feeling and I had trust my gut and walk away.  It was a hard decision.  I’m finally ready to buy a house, but things aren’t working out.  I’m bummed out today because of it.

I took empty boxes to the dump yesterday that I brought home from work to pack stuff up in for the first house we lost.  I had left them in the basement hoping we would find a house and I could continue packing, but since this house didn’t work I’m not sure what to do now so I took ten boxes to the dump.  I’ll take the rest next week.  I’ll probably unpack the some of the coffee cups and tupperware items and bring them upstairs, but I’m unsure what to do with the rest.  It just sucks.  We got our hopes up again and it didn’t work out.

I thought the first house would work out because I was ready, but it didn’t.  I put myself out there again and that house didn’t work out either.  I know everything works out for a reason, but I don’t know why this isn’t working.  I’m at a good place in my life.  My marriage is great.  I have a good job and great coworkers.  I’m beginning to get to know the real me.  The Menopause me.  I’m at a good spot in my life now so I don’t know why this house thing isn’t working.

I don’t even want to look for another house because I’m afraid of getting hurt again.  I’m just hurt and disappointed and I know my husband is too.   We really wanted this work.  I’m grateful that we found out right away and we didn’t lose any money, but it still stings.  I was cleaning the office today and found some brochures with paint samples in so I tossed those in the garbage and I put the paperwork for the two houses in the basement.  Maybe if I get rid of the old……

Today is one of those days where I would love to curl up on the couch with my dad, not say a word and watch football.  I always felt better when my dad put his arm around my shoulders, but I can’t do that because he’s not here.  That makes me miss him even more so I’ve just been puttering around the house, cleaning the office, watching football and writing a little bit.

I know that in time we will know why those houses didn’t work, but I just wish I knew now.  My mom and coworkers tell me to be patient and that everything will work out.  I’m not so sure.  I lost my faith and feel that I will be renting forever.  I want out my cousins house and to get into my house.  I don’t want to live here anymore.

Maybe I need this process to grow in ways that I don’t understand right now.  Maybe I’m suppose to be in the house I’m renting right now for what ever reason.

Maybe.  Maybe.  Maybe.

All I know right now is today sucks.

 

Why Do We Work? Surprise. Surprise.

Work.  It’s something most of us do 40+ hours a week.  But why?  Why do we work?  More importantly — why do you work?

Is it because it’s what you were told you were suppose to do since you were little?  Because you want things?  Because you have bills to pay and or kids to support?  Because you want to make your parents happy?

Do you have the job that you have because it’s your career and you love it?  Because it’s the job you have had since high school and you feel comfortable?  Because you need money now and you can go after your dream job later?

I have worked with the same company for the last twenty years.  I have had five different positions, but none of them really have fulfilled me.   I have always felt like a square peg trying to fit in a round hole at work.  I have always wanted to be a writer, but never went fully after my dream.

Until now.

Most of my job consists of  sorting and picking orders.  And the funny thing I realized last night while laying in bed is that my dad did the same job in a different company how thirty years ago.  I always was a daddy’s girl and I always wanted to be like him. Isn’t it weird that I would have the same job as he had and not realize it?  Am I that out of touch with my job self? If I always wanted to be like him then why wouldn’t I have the job as he had?

But the thing is is that I am not him.  I am me and I am an adult.  An adult who is capable of doing anything she wants and that includes being a writer.  I don’t have to be like my dad job wise.  I can be like him in other areas — honest, hard working, loving, kind, but I don’t have to do the same job he did.

Wow.  I didn’t realize I was doing this.  Why I am working in the same job as he did I don’t know.   Wait.  Yes I do.  On some level I still want to be like him even though I am 52 years old and thought I was way past this.  You would have thought I would have realized this sooner.   I wish I would realized this sooner, but now that I realized this I feel like a weight has been lifted from me.  I always wondered why I stayed at my job even thought it didn’t fulfill me.   It’s funny that the things that are the closest to us are the things we don’t see.

This isn’t how I wanted this post to go.  I have notes that I didn’t even look at (maybe I can use them for another post) because my truth came tumbling out of me.  This is the beauty of writing — you have a plan, but then sometimes it gets derailed and something better comes of it.  Sorry if parts don’t make sense.

I wonder what will happen now that I let go of the need to be who my dad was instead of being myself.  It’s not a bad thing that I was who I was, but now it will be interesting to see how things will change.  Maybe I will let go of my job.  Maybe more writing opportunities will present themselves.   Maybe a new me will emerge.  Maybe nothing will happen.  Who knows.

Please excuse me.  I have to go.  I’m going to starting revising the 2nd draft of my romance novel tonight.   Wish me luck!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Divine Guidance…How Does It Work?

“Dad, if you want me to move you’ll have to find us a house.  We have looked and there’s nothing out there,” I said to my deceased father one Thursday night after work.

My dad hated the fact that I lived next to low income apartments.  He would ask, “Doesn’t it bother you coming home to a empty house while Steve is on the road?”  That was four years ago and it really didn’t bother me to come home.  The people in the apartments didn’t bother me.   Once in  great while it would bother me (depending on what tv show I watched) but not enough to worry about anything.

Now, four years later, it bothers me to be alone.  There’s drug deals going on next door and the cops are there almost a lot.  I want to move.  We’ve been looking for a house for the last six months and we have found nothing that fit us.  That’s why I was asking for my dad’s help.  Why not ask for a little help from up above?

I met my husband for breakfast the next morning at a local restaurant we frequent.  We were looking at Realtor.com when one of my favorite waitresses asked if we were looking for a house.

“Why?”  We asked in unison.  We were really getting bummed out about not finding a house.  The market is booming in our area.  Houses are being sold even before the get listed and getting over the list price.   It’s crazy.

“I have a house for sale,” She said and proceeded to tell us about it.

I thought to myself,  “Damn, Dad.  You’re good.”  I took it as a sign.

My husband looked at it that afternoon and I looked at it the next day.  We both loved it so we signed a contract to purchase it.  There was such a awesome vibe in that house…. like love flowed through it.   I felt it as soon as I walked in the door.  It reminded me of the apartment that my aunt and uncle had in Chicago.   The cool vibe was another reason why I thought we should buy it.

On the day of the home inspection there was a cardinal in the back yard.  My best friend, Mary, who passed away ten years ago loved cardinals so I took it as another sign that we were supposed to buy the house.

Things haven’t gone so well since then.  The sellers are moving to a different state and are having trouble finding a house.  The first deal didn’t go through.  It’s been a rough ride.  I didn’t know it was going to be this hard.   I thought because my dad picked out the house it would be a smooth ride.  I thought we had divine intervention, but now I feel like walking away.

I feel like walking away from the deal because the seller called us yesterday morning and blamed us and our bank for all of the problems they have been having.  His true colors came out yesterday and we didn’t like what we saw.   Now I realize why they are having problems with their realtor and seller on their end.

I keep asking myself  “What am I suppose to learn from this?”  The only good thing I can think of  is that my husband and I have grown closer and I love him more than I ever have.    We really communicated through this whole ordeal and have worked together to do everything we could to make this deal work.  I was really looking forward to living in this house with my husband.  This house made him happy and I like seeing him happy.

I know it’s probably stupid, but in a way, if we walk away from this deal I feel like I’m letting my dad down.  Maybe I’m not letting him down.  Maybe there is a higher purpose of this house deal than I realize right now that him and Mary can see, but I can’t.

Sometimes I wish that we could push fast forward and know the future.  I could see the house that we are suppose to buy so I can be on the lookout for it.

Who knows….maybe we are suppose to stay in the house we rent for awhile.

I believe that our loved ones guide us/help us from the other side.  I also believe that we all have a path we are suppose to take and things we have to learn in this lifetime.  I just wish I knew what our path was with this house.

I smelled cigarette smoke today and there was a cardinal that landed on a chair near the fire pit where I could see her in plain view so I know my dad and Mary are around me.  I just wish they were here in human form for me to talk to.

I guess all I can do right now is take a deep breath and let it go.  If we are suppose to buy the house everything will work out and if it doesn’t work on we need to put on our big girl and boy pants and walk away.

Wish me luck.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I Pick Up Pennies

“Find a penny, pick it up, and all day you will have good luck” My dad would tell me he picked up a penny off of the ground.

Ever since I was little I remember my dad always picked up pennies and other coins and put them in his front pocket.  He always had change in his front left pocket.  I loved to listen to it jingle.  Every night he would empty his pocket and put the change into a decorative glass bottle.  My parents would use that money to go on vacation.

I would cringe as a teenager when my dad would check the coin return of a public phone or candy machine to see if anyone had left change in it and hoped nobody I knew saw him doing that.  I didn’t understand why he did that.  We weren’t poor.  We always had food on the table.  I just didn’t get it.

I started to save change when I was in high school.  I, too, had a decorative glass bottle (probably found at a garage sale) that I kept in the front left corner of my closet.  I could see my change bottle from my bed.  I was proud of my change.  “Dad, look at how much change I have!” I would say to him.   He would smile.  I picked up coins, too, but I didn’t dig in any coin returns.

30+ years later I still save my change.  My husband and I have a big Coke bottle bank that we put our silver coins in and a small Coke bank that we put our pennies in.  The big Coke bottle holds so much change we have to put it in two buckets when we take it to the bank.  We don’t use our change to go on vacation.  We use it as our emergency fund.

I even save our change when we go to Vegas.  I always have a plastic baggie in my purse and all our change comes home with us.  If someone leaves a ticket from a slot machine for a penny or seven cents I cash it in and put it in my change baggie.  So, in that way, I guess I am more like my dad than I realize.

I still pick up coins, but I look at it a little differently now.  Since my dad passed every time I pick up a coin I say “Hi Dad”.  For me they aren’t pennies from Heaven, they are coins from Heaven.  It’s my dad saying “hi” and letting me know he is with me.

I finally understand why he looked in those change returns.  It wasn’t because we needed money.  It was because it was free money and it added money to our vacation fund.  The more money that was in there the more stuff we could do.  I didn’t realize it then but my dad was teaching me a life long lesson.

Save your money.

And I do.  I have a cup in my truck that I put change in.  I have a small coin purse I keep change in at work.  My husband has a plastic coffee can in his semi.  We even keep our change at the trailer in a Coke straw holder we bought in Vegas.

Change is good!

 

 

 

 

 

I Miss My Dad Today

I’m not a big fan of Father’s Day since my dad passed away two and a half years ago.  It’s not the same.  It hurts and I don’t know what to do to fill that void.

I never thought I would be the one to go to the cemetery to visit his crypt or to put flowers in the vase or hang a teddy bear on the vase, but I do.  I want the people that look at his crypt to know he was loved and that we visit to show our love.

Instead of spending time with him today I went to his crypt.  Even though it’s been two and half years I still get teary eyed.  I miss him so much.  I was daddy’s girl and now I’m without a daddy and I hate it.

Today when I kissed my hand and then touched my hand to his name on the crypt it sounded like a hollow knock.  For a brief moment I wondered if he would answer, but then I remembered where I was and that that wasn’t possible.

I wish I could open the crypt and give him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.

I don’t doubt he’s around.  I can feel his presence.  When I smell cigarette smoke when no one else is around I know he’s with me.  I hated the fact that he smoked so now he’s picking on me from the other side with the smell I hate and he’s probably laughing about it.

I miss him.

I miss seeing him sitting on the porch smoking a cigarette.

I miss him joking around.

I miss him saying “Hey kid”.

I miss him asking me “How the big guy (my husband)?” when I walked in the front door.

I miss watching football with him.

I miss his hugs and his smile.

I miss my dad.  My life isn’t the same without him.

I miss him.

Every. Single. Day.

Father’s Day is the hardest day to get through because I know other people are spending time with their dad and I’m not.

When I walked around the campground this morning I saw a family with four small kids — two boys and two girls — and it brought me back to when I was young and my mom, dad, my two brothers, and my sister would go camping in our pop-up.

He was a good dad and a good man.  He taught me to smile, to be nice and to always give back.  And he taught me to shoot pool like a shark.  He had such a big heart and was a very giving man.

Happy Father’s Day Dad.   Thank you for all that I am and all you have given me.

I love you.