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New marbles – and how Independence Day sucked

Warning: Strap yourself in for this one, or you will incur whiplash.  I’m shall be swerving from topic to topic and tangent to tangent.  Keep your hands and arms inside the post at all times.  Any appendages not safely and securely contained within the blog are in jeopardy.  You have been warned.  Now you can’t sue me.

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Ah the irony of my Soul Stretch post and the bundle of insane that I became yesterday.  I should have remembered to stretch.  ALWAYS stretch.

This morning a customer said to me “I don’t know how you do your job, I couldn’t do it.  And you’ve been SO sweet!”  Evidently she didn’t notice my eye twitching involuntarily nor was she aware of the length I go to in order to keep my ‘thought Tourette’s’ safely tucked into my mind and not allowing them to come out of my mouth.

I am good at my job.  I’ll give me that.

But DAMN it’s stressful some days.

I battle with underwriters, absurd lending guidelines, government rules all whilst fielding a daily barrage of panic from realtors, escrow officers and customers.

All with a smile.  All while breathing in through my nose, out through my mouth and staring like a Jedi at my ‘shut-up-Buddha’ willing him to transfer to me his serenity and ability to not speak.

I lost it a little earlier.  Just a smidge.  Okay – let’s be honest.  If someone had a straight jacket handy, probably they would have cut their eye from it, to me, to it and back to me – deciding whether or not it was possible to slip it on me safely.

I was googling funny pictures about stress.  Found this particular one and what bubbled up as an innocent fit of giggles, turned to eye watering, uncontrollable bursts of laughter.  The poor loan officer, only feet away from me must have wondered what the hell was going on – as I convulsed in my chair barely able to breathe.

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No, no … none of that actually happened.  Well, not to me.  Clearly it happened to someone or:

a) it wouldn’t be an ecard and

b) it wouldn’t be relatable to any recipients. 

Oh gawd, this DID happen to someone didn’t it??

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Let’s go back in time shall we … all the way back to last Wednesday.

This was my little Wednesday arm.

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I decided, since I am rolling in money – to spend a large chunk of it and some of my copious free time at the ER. (Ouch, sarcasm sometimes hurts when you type it)

I have a heart condition called ‘Inappropriate Sinus Tachycardia’.  And I swear, this is the last time I want to talk about or mention this.  Basically, my heart misfires electrically sometimes (okay, quite frequently) and get’s all confused and thinks I’ve just run a marathon when I am actually doing something really physically exhausting like sleeping, resting or sitting in an office chair.  That crazy mixed up heart of mine.  It’s silly ;).

What then ensues is me – getting to experience all the fun symptoms of a heart attack, without the heart attack part.  I do relaxation breathing – if I can walk steadily, I’ll find the nearest sink and run my hands under cool water (that seems to help sometimes) or, I’ll go sit with someone, usually my friend Betty if at work, and just listen to her talk about anything but how I’m feeling.  (Because if I focus on the fact that I’m not feeling well, it gets worse) And, eventually my spell passes.

Sometimes it doesn’t.

And I know my ‘normal’ now – and I’m used to it – so when something different starts to join the tachycardia party, I get scared.

Little arm day, was brought on by three really painful, sharp thuds in the center of my chest, after trying my breathing solutions and cool water trick.

And I’ve been experiencing rapid heart beat when I exert myself lately.  You know, like climbing the three steps to my porch or getting up too quickly. Serious exertion 😉

It’s a good thing I’m thin, because I can not exercise.  You will not see me jogging or doing jumping jacks … ever.

Stress also doesn’t help.

stressdeprivation

Oooo!  First tangent.  Speaking of sex … So, I’m wearing a dress that my friend gave me, and shoes that she gave me.  I went into her office and said “Hey, if you’ve got a hair clip and a pair of underwear I can wear I’ll be head to toe Betty”  To which she replied, “Hair clip I could do … the underwear would end up around your ankles”  (She was referring to my thin frame) To which I responded “Ah … the good old days.”

It’s been a while since my underwear was anywhere but on me or in the laundry basket.  But … anyway.

Let’s now turn to yesterday – the day I lost my last marble.

Fourth of July.  My original plans included a man I adore, my son, BBQ at my parents and a four-day weekend.  Not bad eh?

What actually happened:  Argument with my son, spending the day alone crying like a basket case and not even having a hot dog.

To be fair – and I am fair … my part in this argument was that I was already stressed out – the man I adore has been unavoidably delayed, I’ve been worried, I had my little arm day, and I just had a shorter fuse than usual.

Instead of being the mature parent that I am, (that time the sarcasm hurt less … hmmm … clearly if you use it often it gets easier) I resorted to bringing up every single thing I was pissed off about instead of staying on current topics.  My words were pretty venomous and I was ashamed of that.  I did own my part in that – I did apologize later for being so ugly.  It was wrong.

I won’t go into detail about the argument – but suffice it to say, someone stormed out (and it wasn’t me) and the argument continued online.  What have we come to?  That we argue on IM?   Although, it’s nice to point out in black and white proof of a sentence when someone says “I never said that!”  HA!

One such sentence (that wasn’t denied) was “I’ll move out”.  Oh gawd.

I should have taken into consideration that without a vehicle, job or place to go – this was an empty threat – but my mood at that moment didn’t allow for logic.  I was mortally wounded by that notion.

He wanted his independence.

Independence??  He goes where he wants, when he wants – has no obligations around the house and the house to himself all day while I work?  It’s not as if he lives in North Korea?!

Anyway, none of this was funny yesterday at all.  Awful day.  He did come home.  We did talk.  And I gave him the biggest hug I could muster.

But after a good two weeks of stressing out – that was the last straw for me.  I lost my last marble.  Gone.  Poof!

I decided today to do the only sensible thing I could.

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I’m guarding these ones – and I will keep smiling – breathing and laughing. 

Friday! Stars, startles and hitting send/receive

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Ahhhh FRIDAY!

It was a bonkers day today.  (Yeah, this is going to be one of those ‘Dear Diary’ posts, but don’t avert your eyes in voyeurism shame, you’re invited to flip through the pages of my life.)

So, I awoke at 2:15 am.  Yes, we’re starting from the beginning, because I had the best giggle of the day over what ensued.

The dog was the source of my early hour awakening (shocking, I know.) Got up, trotted after the dog – no, wait, SHE trotted, I begrudgingly shuffled along after her, like the beta of our pack that I am.

Let her outside, and  – instead of shuffling back to my cotton sheets – I noticed how clear the sky was and how gorgeous the stars were.  I mean, even with half-opened eyes I’m noticing this, so you KNOW they were stunning.

Decided to sit outside and wait for her.  Be one with nature for a few moments.

So, I’m sitting outside, star-gazing, and I notice light coming from the kitchen.  The fridge is open and my son is stood staring at the contents.

Oh this is great.  I’m already rubbing my hands together in mischief. Butters is ready to go back in, and so am I.

I walk in the front door and got the reaction I was hoping for from Nic.  He did the full on, trying to find purchase with his feet, mouth agape, arm flail STARTLE move.  Classic.  Absolutely classic.

Tangent time: 

scream

I have never ONCE responded to a scare with a blood curdling scream – not once.  Why is that the way they portray it in movies??  My response is usually a “SShit!” combined with some sort of body shudder.  I call shenanigans on authentic movie scare responses.

Anyway, Nic’s response was authentic,  and OH so satisfying.

I nonchalantly continued to my room, in a cloud of smug. 🙂

SO worth the 2:15 wake up.

Was up anyway so checked my email.  Found the email I wanted (and pathetically live for these days – the send receive button is hit more than my snooze button and my knee on my desk lately.)

NOW I could go back to sleep.  Content.  All was right with my little world.

Then came the alarm … and preparing to conquer the mortgage world alone. 

The loan officer I process for is on a mini-cruise, and, I already had a TON of work waiting for me. 

I braced myself and confidently entered the building. 

Day started off with an offer for an additional job.  So, that would make 3.  I took it.  Hey – I am not turning down an opportunity to make extra money! 

I have to be able to support myself in the manner to which I’d like to become accustomed – you know, like, having groceries and paying the rent AND being able to look at the ‘nice’ shampoo section.

After that, things went pretty well considering.  (Except for having no access to the VA website and three VA files desperately in need of me HAVING access.)

Discovered what it must feel like to be a pet today too … one of the realtors was filling his M & M jar. 

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I heard that sound and my ears pricked up and my head tilted to one side.  Came prancing out to make sure it was in fact candy, and not kibble being deposited in a bowl.  Nope.  M & M’s for sure.  My afternoon was looking up.

I won’t bore you with the exciting life of loan processing (saving that for an entire post lol)  Fast forward to now … here I am, sharing my exciting day with you lovely people, and looking forward to hitting send/receive on my email. 

Because:

Happy Friday everyone!

‘TGIF’ WTH?

TGIF!  I say that to fit in.  I don’t really subscribe to it. 

Not to leave you men out – but generally for women, especially working women with children, the weekend is as much work as Monday-Friday.

TGIF I think was coined by single people in their 20’s with Friday night plans and no weekend responsibilities. 

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For me, it means I get to stay up past my bedtime (which I struggle to do if I’m being honest, gawd I’m getting old lol).  I try! I do!  I struggle and end up like a sleepy toddler fighting sleep, just to take advantage of the fact that I don’t have to hit the hay at 9pm. 

So much for that myth that ‘grown ups get to do whatever they want’.  HA! 

It means I don’t have to set the alarm for Saturday – but my internal clock doesn’t cotton to ‘sleeping in’ and neither does Butters, my staring, wagging early bird dog.

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Saturday means, errands.  Groceries are gathered, the house is cleaned, and of late, Nic and I have decided it serves us well to clean the offices Saturday night to afford us one more morning of ‘sleeping in’.  He manages this – we’ve established I don’t.  But it’s still nice to get up with some measure of leisure.

Laundry – that’s the Sunday task.  And I have this bonkers clock thing going when it comes to Sunday.  A countdown.  Only 10 hours ’til bedtime, 8 hours ’til bedtime, 4, 3, 2 … crap, Monday is around the corner. That’s how Sunday goes.

There are times it’s more relaxing to actually BE at work. 

One day, I’ll schedule a ‘staycation’ and clean like a fiend and shuffle around in my PJ’s with NOTHING on the agenda.  ^_^

 

 

“No one’s irreplaceable”

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That is what I heard today.  “No one’s irreplaceable.” 

It wasn’t directed at me – but I suppose, indirectly, as it was their philosophy, it was.  Especially when taking into consideration the fact that this person has the power to replace me.

I beg to differ with this theory. 

I get the logic – of course I do.  And yes, you can fill a position with another body. But are they bringing to the table the same qualities as their predecessor?  Same skill set perhaps, but what about those extra gifts that are as individual as the person offering them?

In my opinion, the stance that no one is irreplaceable is incredibly short-sighted and unhealthy for a company’s growth.

Shouldn’t employers be nurturing, encouraging and teaching their employees to be some what irreplaceable?  Not to the point of debilitating the company should that person have to leave – but in the interest of success, shouldn’t you make your employees feel wanted and needed?

I hope I would do that.  If I were in a position of staffing a company, I would want my employees to feel valuable.

I personally give my all – and more, every day. 

And I’d be lying if I said I don’t punch things into overdrive when a customer compliments me, or I’m told I am excelling at something. 

If I feel appreciated, I want to thank that person by continuing to please them.

I don’t mean that employees should get a pat on the back for performing the job they’re paid to do. 

No need to put a gold star on finished work that should be finished.

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But I do believe if someone is going the extra mile of their own volition, and in turn, making your company more successful, they should be acknowledged. 

If they are making your customers feel amazing and are loyal and hardworking, they should be recognized.  And, that person is, to a degree, irreplaceable. 

I was reminded of these lines from “You’ve Got Mail”

Joe Fox: It wasn’t… personal.
Kathleen Kelly: What is that supposed to mean? I am so sick of that. All that means is that it wasn’t personal to you. But it was personal to me. It’s *personal* to a lot of people. And what’s so wrong with being personal, anyway?
Joe Fox: Uh, nothing.
Kathleen Kelly: Whatever else anything is, it ought to begin by being personal.

No matter how hard I try not to make work personal, or bring it home with me in my head – I do.  I care.

And when you spend more time with the people you work with than your own family – how do you disengage? 

Work can be bonkers.  Teddy Bonkers.  But, as long as I can put my head on my pillow at night knowing I did the best I could  – and as long as I stay VERY very grateful for having a job – it’s all good. 

Jumping spiders and Buddha too!

Thursday at work,  I noticed in my peripheral vision ‘something’ on the wall in front of my desk.  I glanced up from being very busy and important to see a little spider.  Okay. Little is good.  Wall is good.  Carry on.

He was industrious because not long after that my peripheral radar alerted me of an intruder on my desk.  I laid eyes on him and decided it was time he went outside.

You may be thinking now that I am ‘bug brave’.  I am not.  I don’t do bugs.  But I can’t just kill one either.  So I do bugs when I have to.  Even scorpions in the Summer get caught or vacuumed up in the bagless machine and placed outside.

Yes, my blood pressure rises to an unhealthy level, yes I have nightmares, yes I’m unreasonably itchy for hours afterward in some psychosomatic state – whilst my eyes dart around the room incase it was just one of one hundred,  but I really do try not to kill them

Back to spider.

jumpingspiderdesk

So I’ve decided he’s going out.  (For all intents and purposes, it’s a ‘he’ apparently).

I get a slice of paper and put it in his path.  Surely he’ll waltz right onto it and I’ll simply carry him out to the leafy bush outside.

He didn’t know how to waltz.  But he had leaping down!

This is the part where I’m squealing like a little girl.  Audibly. 

A lot louder in my head – trust me, but my vocalizations finally get the attention of the loan officer at the desk across the room.

I explain that no conventional method of capture is going to work for this guy.  “Help me!  It jumps!” might have been the actual verbiage I used.

He meandered over.  “Where is it?” 

Good question – I’d taken my eyes off of it.  Peripheral Powers Activate! 

I focused in and there – on my desk – was the spider taking the last few steps to hide under the shadow of my shut-up Buddha.  You remember him?

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So he’s at the base of Buddha’s rock.  Probably meditating on how much higher he could leap at me should I go through with my attempts of relocation. (The shut-up Buddha isn’t working by the way, I bite my tongue and look at him, but unedited words still fall out of my mouth all day long).

“Get an envelope” the loan officer says.  Oooo!  Good idea.  Yeah – we can encase him safely for the trip!

Goes off without a hitch.

I scoop up the envelope.

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“Don’t squish it”, he says – as I close the flap gently, just in case.  No! I didn’t Close it close it – just put it down so there was no escape route.

Outside I go with him.

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There.  He’s happy.  He’s free.  I’m happy (a little itchy and looking around the room, but happy).

Back to work we go.

Fast forward to Friday.

Alone in the office – peripheral alarm starts to bleat out a warning.

What the heck?!?!

On my wall – a jumping spider. 

I’m fairly certain the other guy didn’t find his way back in – so as I was telling my friend Betty, we’re left with the only reasonable, non-alarmist, sane answer – Jumping Spider Infestation!!!

(Okay, probably there might be a little family.  But I’m sticking with infestation). 

I emailed the loan officer something that could have passed for a telegram SOS. 

“Help!  Spider!  Infestation!  Should close office!” 

He responded sometime later that yes, sounded like immediate closure was called for. 

Followed by a damn winky emoticon.  Pfft.  Those ‘winky’ things mean someone is kidding right?  I was left with the real danger.

I made it unscathed through the day.  And this morning – my Betty puts this horror on my Facebook page.

Spider Showers

It’s over four minutes long, you won’t need to watch for that long to be itchy and darty eyed the rest of the day.

Happy Spider! Saturday!