Le sigh...

I haven't written in a long time and I do so want to write. This is absolutely not the time to be doing so as I have to work in less than an hour but my brain is melting and my heart hurts so much. My world has opened up in front of me and there are so many possible avenues. I can see it clearly and it's just beyond my reach.

I have always been a jack of all trades and master of none. I like it that way. I get bored do easily and want to move on to the next thing to keep my brain from atrophying. This is generally not the best way to keep food on the table and a roof over our heads.

My heart lives in creativity. My soul needs to create.

With the departure of my favourite co-worker - the one who kept me looking forward to each week of work - I have new responsibilities. Creating purchase orders. Just one more thing outside of my comfort zone, in a department with too low an employee to customer ratio. One more thing there isn't enough time to get done. One more reason to feel like my job is killing me.

I spent my weekend, again, in the Big-City. My days off have become days of driving. With hubby medically unable to drive and working down island (oh yeah, he's working again... for the past couple of weeks) I have become chauffeur extraordinaire. I use my down time in drawing and thinking. This weekend, though, I was an interior designer... and I liked it. Picking colours and tiles and counter-tops and, and, and... It was fun. I was bouncy and bubbly.

And now I have to go back in to ten dollars an hour and ungrateful customers... and no favourite co-worker.

On news, theme songs and living two lives…

Well hello there.

I never wanted this to become another defunct blog. Just thought I’d put that out there. I keep telling myself that I’ll write regularly when things settle down. The problem with that thought process is that things never really settle down. It’s all just various levels of busy.

Our latest busy-ness is in the form of another long term house guest. He arrived a week ago, yesterday, and so far it’s been relatively good. We have the consistent challenges - you know, the ones which present regardless of the visitor. Things like privacy, changes in routine, toilet seat tension and extra expenses. With this particular guest there are a few more things to think about.

This guest is a long standing friend of Wolf’s. This guest, who always had turbulent mood swings, has very recently been diagnosed with Bipolar disorder. This guest has spent a couple of weeks, twice, (from February to March of this year) in the hospital for suicide attempts. This guest flew out to the island about two weeks after his latest attempt.

….

….

I find myself stuck. There is no more to say about it besides my own stress about the whole thing. He is medicated. He is not yet level. Oh, and in August, his girlfriend will arrive, too. They met in the hospital.

On a lighter and more intriguing note, the members of my little family each have their own theme songs. Since she was about three years old, Kitten’s been singing The Imperial March while she plays. Wolf, who has recently rented all of the movies, fills our ears with the theme to Superman. Mine? Like, since I was a kid? Embarrassingly enough, my background music is the Mexican Hat Dance. Ole!

There. Now you know.


My work week. My weekend. I’ve often felt like I was two people. Nothing to be concerned about, mind you, just the me-that’s-at-my-best and the me-that's-falling-apart. Now, I have Work me. The cool thing is that work me tends to supersede falling apart me, more or less. I mean, I have I’m-really-sick-of-this-shit-but-will-keep-gritting-my-teeth-and-smiling Work me, but the point is the smile remains. Mostly.

Weekdays are for work. That’s all I have room for. Work and a little bit of family because my hours are so crappy. Weekends are for art, but art takes so much time. It takes time for me to settle into the zone, to see what my next step should be. I can still work when I’m low. I struggle with art, even the idea of art, when I’m low. I hate that I have to allot so much time to my work life when I find it almost completely unsatisfying and my paycheque sucks. I hate that I exchange eighty hours for $630. I hate that, without Wolf’s income (which is up in August), we would have about $136 left over after paying rent. Per month.

And I’m not overly keen on having become ‘just like everyone else.’


I’ve had a tough week. I’m ready for my big break. Hey Universe, are you listening?

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod....

Things are happening. Things are happening faster than I thought they would. Since my last post, these things have happened - in list form!

~set up a website
~completed my next portrait
~completed the Bio and Contact pages on my website
~found an awesome place to get prints made
~have my first 'real' customer who wants a portrait done!!!

I'm excited and desperately wishing I could quit my job right now to do this full time... which would be jumping the gun, I think. I'm posting a link to my website in my sidebar. Ooh, of course you'll get to know me by my given name, rather than the one I chose. For the record, I prefer the one I chose.

It's all big stuff...

I've had a lot to think about, lately. The best way for me to break it down would be chronologically, I think.

First, as you may have been able to glean from my last post, I went out and got a touch blotto... for the first time in over a year. It took all of 4 drinks.

I had been invited to attend 'Girls' night out' by a couple of my co-workers and though I didn't want to go, I had already blown off several invites and thought it prudent to make an appearance, if nothing more. So, it was just us, the ladies. For the first time in over a year I was out, on my weekend, without Wolf. I had already decided I wasn't going to drink but my friend handed me her vodka/lime to sip and my thirst was on.

• Back-story: I have Irritable Bowel Syndrome. For the last year and a half of my drinking years I would get the nastiest gut pains starting about a half hour from ingesting the first sip of whatever I was imbibing. I took this as a sign that it was time for me to back off a little. It took the 1.5 years to confirm my suspicions... and to let go of my favourite vice.

I think the first thing I noticed was that my gut didn't hurt. That was definitely a pleasant surprise which, obviously, precipitated another drink. By the end of the night, I still had no pain. I did, however, have the dawning of an ugly realization. I am a self-righteous bitch. But only when I'm not looking.

Wolf has always been a drinker. He never had a problem with it. As long as I was binging, I didn't mind either. But there came a time when alcohol became an issue for me and at the point that I could no longer deny that, it began hurting me. Well, with me no longer drinking I was better able to judge his drinking. How very convenient. This very judgement was fed and nurtured within me until last Monday. Eww.

Being who I am, I analyzed this to it's smallest detail and, once home, told Wolf all about it. I apologized for my self indulgent behaviour to which I was treated to the most relieved, sweet smile from my love. It really was amazing. The whole thing was amazing. I mean, I don't have the urge to spend my weekends plastered, thank God, and my feelings have changed regarding Wolf's occasional night with the boys. I know there will likely still be work to do to prevent me from slipping back into my old habit, but I'm up for that.

Next, Wolf had his neurologist appointment. The good doctor confirmed epilepsy, probably caused by Wolf's massive head injury. The back of his skull, travelling just below 60 km/h (about 37 m/h), met a curb. The doctor said that within two weeks Wolf would be called in for a cerebral angiogram. Hopefully the test will reveal the scar tissue on his brain and that the removal of said tissue is possible. They will also look at his aneurysm to see about taking care of that, too. Cleansing breath...

The 'third' thing that I'm working on is a new life. I have always been an 'artist.' I've know what I can do with a pencil, given the time and patience, and that I would love to make it a living. I know that my potential has not really showed in the bits and pieces of art that I have put on display. For the past week or so, I've been working on a portrait of one of my co-workers. Did I say that already? Well, If so, sorry about the repetition. My point is, I've shown the incomplete drawing to several people and each of them has asked what I will charge for my service. I've never had a clue. How does one put a price on something like this? What if the price is too much, or too little. How would I correct that, after the fact, for others without being totally unfair?!

Well, I was told, based on the info I had to date (it's taken me about 6-8 hours so far, I'm about half done...) that a picture this size, with this amount of detail, I could/should be charging about $450. It throws me and I think, "Really?" I'm timid about the whole thing, looking at the possibilities and daring to wonder - no, to dream that it might be possible. Wow. Really?

I guess I'm daring to dream... Now, I just need to finish the thing and get it 'out there.'

And, finally, my most recent lesson came today. I have linked my despair directly and irrefutably to anxiety. I awoke with a headache and immediately thought about this being the last day of my weekend. My mind took me to work tomorrow morning, and I was standing behind my till. I shook it off pretty quickly but my chest was a bit tight and I was instantly antsy. I managed to 'forget' the whole thing is pretty short order but I did become quiet. Wolf kept asking me what was wrong, and nothing was wrong. I was just quiet. And not hungry. And withdrawn.

Kitten was trying to tell us about her dream and one of Wolf's favourite things to do is pester the hell out of people. Every few words that Kitten would get out, Wolf would ask a question or link her words to a quote... whatever. Well, I was trying to re-engage with my family when Kitten said, "and there were these mountains and a river was winding between them..." when I smiled at her and said, "A river runs through it, which is the name of a movie." Well, my timing was off because I guess that was her breaking point. She just looked at me, eyes widened like I was the biggest betrayer, ever. Then her lips pinched shut and she turned to her breakfast without a word. I said I was sorry, and Wolf poked a little more. Well, I was done. I screwed up (which, when I'm at my best is a hard pill to swallow. At my worst, I shouldn't be permitted the care of a goldfish, let alone a child!) and had to leave the room.

As we all know, kids are far more resilient that we often give them credit for. Within minutes, she was knocking on my door, asking if she could finish the telling of her dream. I said yes and all was well. Except me. I crashed. Hard.

I realized that I wasn't trying to engage with my family for my sake. I know that when the ocean is turbulent, I need to just ride the wave. The less I fight, the quicker I reach solid ground. I know my limitations when I'm in that place. I know damned well that to deny my feeling is dangerous. And now I know that to deny my feelings, even when I think I'm helping others, is to hurt them as well as myself.

Biggies, all. Whoo-ee. And, as usual, the universe throws stuff at me when it's most pertinent. This morning, just before the emotional shit hit the fan, I saw this picture:




Thank you...

If this is a new beginning, why does it all feel the same?

2008:

This photo you may remember from my last post or the link therein. It was taken December 21st. We were trying to deal with an uncommonly large snowfall. Please understand that snow in this amount is highly unusual in these parts, at least from the perspective of we younger folk. Apparently, thirty years ago it got damned cold and snowy every winter.

Last year we were shocked when snow fell in November! "We never get snow this early," and a week later there was no proof of any snowfall at all.

2009:

This picture was taken today at 4:14 pm.


What gives? I mean, it has been fun, sure, but I have to say my work-day has gotten almost unbearably long. We saw lass than 300 transactions today. I'm sure there were at least a hundred more people through the doors but those were looking in vain for shovels and salt. We can't get those items in fast enough.




To be fair, we did get a slight reprieve. And by reprieve I mean that it thawed and froze and thawed and froze but nary a flake did fall for a few days. Until today. It was cold this morning, then misty and a touch rainy by 2:15 pm. Two-thirty saw tiny flakes in the air, tiny flakes which became palm sized clusters in the time it took me to clock in for the second half of my shift.

I will post a proper time line when I'm not falling asleep. I am so going to bed right now.

And now, the exciting conclusion - with pictures!

In my last post (hahaha, I just spelled post like toast) I began telling of weather drama here on the wet-coast. Now, I shall complete the story with full colour pictures!

We here on the southern section of our not so little island feel a little panicky about just below freezing temperatures. Knowing that, imagine how most feel about this:

December 17th.

Not too bad... sort of. Our store ran out of salt on by the second day of snow. Shovels, too. We did manage to get our hand on an emergency shipment (five pallets) of salt on Friday which took a whole hour to go out the doors.

Then, this morning, we woke up to this:

December 21st.

Overnight two and a half inches of snow fell. We were thrilled. Oh, I really ought to qualify that. We, my family and I, were thrilled. Most of the other residents of the Valley were cursing.

I made it easily in to work. First, we have a killer 4X4 and the smarts to use it properly. Second, even if we had no vehicle at all, it takes me all of ten minutes to walk to work. The snow would have to be over three and a half feet before I could use the 'snowed-in' excuse. Sadly, I'm one of the two employees who are in this position. Of the usual Sunday building-centre-roster (eleven worker bees) seven of us made it in. By the end of the day, we were three. Within a few hours two were sent home. The snow was showing no signs of letting up and my Manager was concerned about their return trips home.

December 21st, lunch break.

December 21st, second coffee (two hours after lunch)

By the end of the day, three of us remained. We probably had about a below a hundred customers. The lumber yard stayed locked up all day. I took ten minute coffee breaks and a fifteen minute lunch. I was both cashier and paint department... I felt so popular. I was paged to the phone, to front cash and to paint... all day. One customer told me we should be getting paid double for our double duties... the owner disagreed, lol.

To see more fun pictures of our winter wonderland (complete with -18° C cold... -39° F) see this.

I'm so stoned...

I was sent home from work, yesterday. It would seem that my usefulness was deemed non-existent when compared directly to my obvious discomfort. This story begins this past Friday...

*cue flashback sequence*

I was closing the paint department on my own. The last few hours of the day had been so slow with nary a customer in sight. Deciding to make myself useful, I began down-stocking some stain. Most of this down-stocking was largely unnecessary as our staining season is over but we have no overstock of the paint that people actually want right now and I was bored. I began with a gusto, moving gallons of the stuff from the enclosed storage bay above the sparsely stocked shelves. You might think gallons of paint would be more challenging to move than quarts. You might, but in this case you'd be very, very wrong.

I learned that
(a) the perfect, compact quarts of stain were kept neatly organized in boxes of six
(b) I'm short, even when on a kick-ass ladder;
(c) standing tip-toe, I still sometimes have to work above my head and
(d) these boxes are bloody heavy!

And then my back said, "um, stop. kthxbye." By the end of my quest to cure boredom, I was sore and tired and had only managed to down-stock about 8 quarts.

Oh, I also learned
(e) sleep has the magical ability to make a tweaked back hurt like hell!!!

Saturday, shortly after beginning my shift I was talking to a couple of the women in or near my department about my back tenderness. They talked me into filing with first-aid which I did before returning to the floor. I went home at lunch to dope myself up on Tylenol and Advil so I could finish out my shift in an upright position. That night I loaded up on Robaxacet and slept like a rock.

Sunday was great. I felt no pain but I was aware of the centre of my back. It was distinctly there, you know? Everything was fine until I bent to pick up a receipt. I don't know if I moved too fast or what but by the end of my day I was getting waves of pain that were making it hard to breathe. To make matters worse, I'd taken my last two Robaxacet the night before.

Monday morning I had to use my both hands to get out of bed. I spent the morning gimping around like Gollum and waiting for the next round of pain pills to kick in. They still hadn't by the time I got to work. Hence the sending home.

I went to a clinic early this afternoon and was given a prescription for Flexeril which I can't afford to get filled, and instruction to stick with light duty at work for ten days. No ladders, no lifting. But standing all freaking day is o-tay, which is good because that is my job description.

"Oh, and what do you do for a living?"

I stand...


Good news? Wolf's on meds which have stopped his seizures and passing out. They leave him dead-dog tired but on his feet which is good because he can now take care of me for a couple of days.

:D

The finish line...

We made it! I can hardly believe that it's been a month already and at the same time, I'm looking forward to not having to set my alarm a half hour early, just so I have time to blog.

Over all, NaBloPoMo has taught me a few things.

• I can create a new habit. I can do something every day, without fail, even when it isn't strictly necessary.
• My moods have distinct cycles. Blogging has created a picturesque map of how my moods are directly related to incidents and quality sleep.
• I love writing so much that I'm looking at book writing as a fun thing to do!
• There are people out there who like to read what I write! Me! I never would have thought it possible.
• There are also a lot of people who write stuff that I want to read!
• I'm not so strange. I'm not alone.

I'm pretty sure I could go on... for hours, but I slept through my half-hour-early and have to get ready for work.

Thank you so much for stopping by during this month to read and to comment. Your presence has bee invaluable and I want you to know that I appreciate it so very much. (Gee, I don't usually make a speech like that without a drink in one hand and a rose from the wandering, bar flower-guy in the other! Are you familiar with the ones to which I refer?)

So, rest good internets. Enjoy the peace, the passing of NaBloPoMo '08. Congrats to all of you who made it and also to all who tried.

Have a good morning, and in case I don't see you, good afternoon, good evening and good night!
(Jim Carey - The Truman Show)

Survival...

It turns out that the difference between a lousy day and a good one can be co-workers. My first and second days in paint were spent with a couple of co-workers, neither of them teacher-types. Now, in all fairness, my supervisor is up to her ears in flooring stuff as we just lost one of our two flooring staff but her method if teaching doesn't fit well with my method of learning. Her sage words of advice can be summed up thus: "Take some time to walk around the dept reading labels. That's how I learned." And then, she left for the flooring dept.

...

The other staff person, also not teacher material, is quite quiet. She speaks only if necessary and, even then, comes across as having little confidence in what she's saying. I would get tiny snippets of 'how-to' and 'where.' I'm a touch dynamic by nature and neither of these ways of learning were even close to active enough for my brain.

I spent the day making sure the prices in our computers matched up with the bin label and sticker prices. I made sure that products were lined up with their correct shelf labels. I tinted a couple of gallons of paint... I did learn, but had no idea how much. I needed to be able to ask questions. I needed to learn more, not wander aimlessly, practising what I already knew. The days were long and I felt totally useless.

On day three my salvation walked in. In this case, it took the form of a down to earth, vibrant transplant from the UK. He's just as energetic of mind as am I. He welcomes me as I follow him around, learning from his dealings with customers. He showed me where we keep the overstock!!! Well, most of it. He gave me reasons why certain products were necessary, why the steadfast priming rules don't always apply and how to decided when to overlook them, and broke down the properties of specific products so it all made sense. I need the 'why,' not just the 'use.'

In that third shift I learned more than I had the two before. We even had plenty of head space to discuss spirituality, our 'past lives' and how we've become who we are, politics... It was so very awesome.

And this all brings us to my three-hours-by-myself-in-the-paint-dept-with-only-three-and-a-half-days-worth-of-experience shift, heh.

I won't lie. I was scared out of my mind. All my usual crutches (read: staff members who continuously bail my ass out when I have no idea the answer to a customer question) were gone and I knew I was likely facing three hours without a break. I've gotten kind of used to having a breather ever two hours. In fact, I have relied on it!

Well, I did it. I was overwhelmed a time or two and I made decisions and moved forward - without help. It was painfully quiet so I had quality time with the customers who did come in. I worked it out. When I couldn't work it out, I used the phone numbers that were left for me. I was calm. I tinted five gallons and two quarts of paint, helped a couple with their stain/varnish issue, found the right product for use with polystyrene... It was amazing.

And, suddenly, I quite love my job. I mean, to the point where I've decided to work part time even if my percolating ideas come to fruition.

I always find it amusing when my whole outlook changes,pendulum-like, in less than 12 hours.

Things I saw, heard or otherwise experienced at work yesterday...

I saw my new co-worker spend half an hour making two tins of paint look like two paint chips, by eye and with the the wrong base paint (need this last part to make more sense? Let me know and I'll explain), all at the customers behest.

I was asked what my interest was in the paint dept as I couldn't be pictured to (ever) have had a paint brush in hand. When I replied, citing my year of experience painting in a new-home construction setting, I was asked "was that before or after modelling paint products."

I saw a shrink-wrapped yard-man trying to look nonchalant when I unexpectedly interrupted their fun-time.

I had a brilliant discussion on spirituality and personal growth.

I said "SILENCE! I kill you!" into a speaker phone during business hours.

I helped a few people, by.my.self!!!, and learned so much more!

So, I will concede that this is not the job from hell, therefore I will not kill myself just yet. I will update after this coming shift, wherein I will spend the last 3 hours of the day completely alone in my department, armed only with far-too-little-knowledge and a list of phone numbers that I can call "If (I) need anything at all..."

Percolation...

My new department shuffle has brought with it professionally inept scheduling. This has given me a fair measure of concern as, today, I am supposed to be in two places at once. Last night I was trying to work it all out. Kitten had said she'd read in bed until I arrived to tuck her in. After a half hour or so, while I was still absorbed in trying to decide my course of action, I heard a knock at my door. It was Kitten, coming to say goodnight. She was falling asleep and was tired of waiting. We did out night-nights right there beside my bed and she headed back to her room, a touch hang-dog.

When I left my room a few moments later, she met me in the bathroom, trying to hide her face. I asked her what was wrong, to which she replied, "nothing," like a good little member of my family. Now, I'm trying to break the cycle of poor communication so I said, "Okay," and began to walk away. She cut in, then, and poured her heart out.

She needs the connection of being tucked in at night. She is so sad that I no longer have early days. She says that it doesn't feel like home now that I'm not here. I added that I hardly feel like I belong as my role has changed so much and I can't be that which I desperately want.

We talked and talked. We cried and hugged.

I have a plan...

Be careful what you wish for...

I'm bloody impossible to please!

I've been in the paint dept for all of two days and I don't want to be there anymore. It might have something to do with the lack of experience in selling people stuff. It just may be related to knowing that I'm spending the last three hours of my shift, tomorrow, alone. I might be effected by my sudden lack of early days.

Oh hell. Someday I'll figure it out.

Not the most graceful transiton.

I applied at my place of employment with the hope of working in the paint department. The thing is, they needed cashiers and I needed a job. I told them I was flexible. Silly me. They had me behind a till within 48 hours of receiving my resume and that is where I remained for the next two months. Early last week, my zone manager stopped me as I was heading out for a break.

ZM: "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you have some paint experience, don't you?"

I held my smart tongue (neglecting to point out that my most recent job experience, right there on my resume which she has in her office, was as a professional painter) and simply answered in the affirmative.

ZM: "You have experience tinting paint." She stated this, her voice and demeanour both unsure.

Me: "No. I have experience prepping, sealing/priming and painting/staining most surfaces. I have experience with the clean-up of a myriad of paint/stain products."

ZM: "Are you interested in learning how to tint?"

Me: "Very interested!" I have to work on my poker face.

At that point, she walked away with nothing more than a "Hmm." Such is her way. Such is the way of the whole freakin' company!! But that's not the point of this telling.

Yesterday, as I looked at our front-end break schedule, I noticed that I had a half-hour in the paint dept, immediately before our Yard Tour. The paint training was great! The yard tour never happened. But that's more of the 'not this telling' stuff. The paint training let me know that I was beginning the transition, even if no one else deemed in necessary to tell me.

Last night, I went to sleep at about 10:30. It was a late bedtime for my scheduled 6:30 am start today but Supernatural was on. You' know how it is? I knew something was wrong before I awoke. I was dreaming about working, typing a list of numbers into the computer. I was feeling really ill and it was messing with my concentration. As the feeling passed, the dream would fade to black, only to return a bit later. Typing. Feeling sick. Mixing up the numbers. Fade out. That cycle continued until, during a semi-lucid moment, my consciousness clicked and I woke fully. Sure enough, I had to camp out in the bathroom for a while. I don't know what it was but I threw up. I never throw up! I guzzled water to aid in my body's betrayal. I took my temperature, twice, but had no fever. What the hell!? And then I went back to bed.

Today, I got up when my alarm went off and dragged my feet through my morning routine, leaving a few things out due to sheer exhaustion. My belly felt okay enough but I was really weak and shaky. I couldn't risk eating anything as I can't afford to miss a day of work. I did, however, drink a few sips of coffee - maybe a quarter mug.

Opening cash means pushing open the automatic, sliding doors, walking to the back of the store, climbing 21 steps to the staff room, swiping in, descending the same 21 steps back to the main floor, trudging back to the front doors but turning to the management office stairs. Up 21 more stairs (but these ones have a landing!) to get to the safe-room.

I was cashing in the first of two tills and my co-opener (and good friend Bou) cashed in the first of her two, when a third cashier (SM) walked in. Bou and I both asked SM why she was there, the answer to which was "to open." And then it hit me.

I left Bou and SM to their open and went to seek out the paint dept schedule. It turns out that I wasn't scheduled to begin shift until 9 am. In fact, I was there and punched in a half hour before my new team lead arrived.

Let me just tell you how much I heart my new team lead. She told it was perfectly alright if I continued my shift as I though it was scheduled. She was awesome about my lack of vigor and didn't once ask me if I had to go home. It's nice to work with another grown up. I was out of there at three, which was wonderful because I don't think I'd have made it to 5:30, and in the time I was there I tinted several gallons and one pint of paint. I learned how to change formula for tinting a 20L pail so it works in a one gallon tin (and vice versa). All in all a productive day considering the productive night before.

Let me tell you, also, that I now have 3.5 days per week in the paint dept. I have both pertinent schedules and I can no longer keep my horrible dyslexia under control... someday I'm going to type out an entry without touching the backspace key. That'll be funny... kind of.

Oh Lord, please let me sleep, tonight!

EARTHQUAKE! .... ... No - wait... it's just the spin cycle.

Not one to point out the issues in my surroundings (HA!) but if our washer isn't perfectly balanced, the whole house shakes. Now I'm not talking a little vibration, here. I mean that everything, from one end of the house to the other, rattles. Mirrors, bookcases, dishes - you name it, it's-a-shakin'!

In other news, I have just had the single least productive (for me) weekend since I decided to use my days off, rather than lose myself in facebook for two days. I had my mind set on completing a few tasks. Of course, as I grump about wasting my time, I've come up with several other things that I would love to have accomplished. Maybe it's time to make a list. I've proven to myself that I am a remarkable forgetter so it makes sense that a list is the best, next-step.

So, here's my list.

Things to do on Tuesday and Wednesday:

1. Clean the truck, interior.

2. Gather and sort art work.

• decided what is being posted, where.
• complete incomplete pieces
• upload drawings to deviantArt and/or Zazzle

3. Practice increases and decreases, knitting.

4. Check out Etsy

5. Snuggle and read with my girl... I miss her.

6. Continue with the de-fleaing process (friggin' cat)(friggin' me, for not wanting to go all chemical on her ass)

I'm sure I'll think of more things before next week but for now this'll do nicely.


Tomorrow, I'm finally getting the bit of training that I've been requesting for the past month. They have scheduled me (and another cashier) for a two hour walkabout in the lumber yard. Now, I've already figured out most of the stuff that comes out of the yard, but it will be nice to be able to direct inquiring customers to what they want, rather than to someone who can answer better than I. That's getting a bit tired in my opinion. Yes, if it bugged me that much, I could have gone in (on my days off) to walk around, find stuff and ask the yard guys about the things I was unsure of. I could have... I understand and live by a certain level of proactive behaviour. I mean, within my first month of this job I had management letting me know that I was already 'right up there' with the senior cashiers. I've heard nothing but kudos on my job performance. It's called work-ethic, and I have it. However, I am not paid nearly enough nor treated well enough to want to be there without seeing the results on my paycheque (ha, that word looks so funny. I love Canadian English).

And on all of these notes, I am off to vacuum Kitten's room and wash her bedding and bathe the cat (hehehe). I think I'll clip the wee demon's claws before I toss her into the tub.

Realizations.

We're halfway through NaBloPoMo and I have a bit of a problem. I don't want to do this anymore. Not just for the sake of writing... well, crap, really. I've looked back through the entries here and compared them with my Cheers blog (where everybody knows my naaaame...) and the quality of writing is so very different.

I created this blog with the purpose of starting over. I wanted to have a place where no-one knew me and where my old emotional crap couldn't find me. As a result, I'm not really here. The words in these entries are straight forward, calm and without any style whatsoever. Trust me, the stuff I've written this month is garbage.

Now, I'm going to finish the NaBloPoMo challenge. It's who I am. I'm one of those, "If you can, do!" people. This is hardly a challenge for me, to come here everyday and write something - anything. Writing is one of my favourite things to do. Writing is easy. Writing something worth reading, however, is another thing altogether. So, I will complete the challenge in the same way and for the same reason that I complete every a game of Algerian Patience Solitaire. Because I can.


"What about at the end of this challenge? What are you going to do, then?" you may be asking... oh wait. I have no readership!! No one's asking anything! Ha. Well, that sure takes the pressure off of me. There's no one here to disappoint or say good bye to. Phew!

Well then, I think I'll take that comforting thought with me as I grab a coffee and shower. I've two days left in this work week and I plan on using them as wisely as I possibly can.


Oh yeah, and I slept like crap last night. I'm facing this day on about 4 hours of sleep. I'm actually a touch bummed that it isn't raining. In fact, it's near cloudless and if it stays this way, the store just may be busy.

Sh*t.

And the times, they are a'changin...

You know what I love most about working? Punching out and leaving the store.

You know what I love most about my Hubby being home during the day? Being greeted after work with a big smile and a homemade, gluten free croissant!

You know what I hate most about working? When my daughter says things like, "Y'know what Mom? I always thought it would be easier to deal with you not being here over time. It's kinda not."

She has gotten really clingy, again. It's hard for me to be available for that when I'm sore from standing behind a counter all day, socializing. I'm working on it while trying to remember that it's okay for me to take some time to regroup and change gears when I get home. This is a particularly hard thing for all of us. Both Kitten and Wolf are extroverts. They need other people around them to recharge and feel energized. Neither of them understand that I am exactly opposite - it isn't personal, it just is.

And now, for something completely different... There's been one firing and several lay-offs at work over the past week. The firing was apparently due to violations of store procedure or some such. The Lay-offs, though, are due to the economy. I guess I should count my blessings. It would seem that it is the more experienced, higher waged/salaried employees who are in danger of being downsized. We peons are cheaper and will be slightly more willing to have more work heaped upon us (for the same money, though? I think not... maybe).

And again, I am reminded to keep my eyes open for more entrepreneurial methods of earning my keep.


Now, I've taken my moments and must 'put my face back on,' so to speak. Wolf has his usual Friday night company and I am rather expected to attend.

Freaking COLD!!!

It's 7:32 am and I've had my coffee, checked my email, researched SPD, and read my favourite blogs. I even had a bath! Here I sit, outside on the cold front step, freezing my butt off, fingers aching... and I'm just about ready for work. The truly awesome thing about all this is I still have hours left in which to complete those things that remain undone!

I don't work until 11 but last night I couldn't keep my eyes open past 10:00. By my internal clock, I should have been up this morning at 6 but for some unknown reason I began waking shortly after 4 am. The third time my eyes opened I decided it must be time to get up. I brewed coffee and began running my bath right away and now I have all this peaceful alone time. Yum!

Seeing as everyone else is still asleep, now seems like a fabulous time to play video games!!!

I'm off.

My mother gave me some stuff to think about. I'm thinking about it.


My place of employment has a no-cell-phone policy. Not only do I blatantly disregard this policy, I told my team-lead, floor manager and store manager that the policy didn't apply to me. With Wolf's health the way it is and he being a house-husband and home-schooler to our kidlet, I want Kitten to have a easy way to reach me in case of emergency. I didn't want her to have to call work and have me paged to 'line 101,' so to speak. That's too much work for a panicked almost-eleven-year-old. Generally, the only incoming calls I get are from home so my phone has become 'for emergencies only!'

I didn't realize that my phone was off until almost half way through my shift today. When I saw the blank screen, I started to shake. I turned it on, all the while wondering if there was going to be a voice-mail waiting. I envisioned all the possibilities through the eyes of terror. Being the good employee that I am, I couldn't call home until my lunch break. And everything was fine.

Wolf's doctor said he's 'almost positive' it isn't Wolf's brain that's the issue. Almost positive. I told Wolf I wanted that in writing so I could sue his ass back to the stone age in the event that his confidence is once again misplaced.

And now I'm going to get to the business at hand. I'm home for the weekend and I've a family that I've missed terribly this week.

Something's gotta give...

I overslept again. I only lost a half hour which is a good thing, and my shift didn't start until 9 am. A week of sleeplessness is beginning to take its toll and if I don't sleep tonight, I fear that I'll be totally useless tomorrow. I've a 6:30 am start time and the only happiness I can glean from this resides in the fact that tomorrow is my Friday. One more day, that's all. One more day and that day ends at 3 pm.

We need the break, all of us. Wolf hasn't had a decent night's sleep since last Sunday and his health is declining rapidly. I'm trying to avoid spending too much energy in fear but it's turning out to be harder than I can manage, right now. I am fearful by nature - anxiousness bordering on paranoid - and lack of sleep makes everything worse.

*Sigh*

I'm feeling a little bit tangled and unable to concentrate. My mother just left a message on my voice mail. I should probably return the call. It's been close to a month since we last spoke and that's not really okay.

Hopefully tomorrow will prove to be a touch easier...

Dreams and Sacrifice...

I love the fine and the literary arts with a passion. So intense is this feeling that I would give up online gaming and all facebook applications (including the ones I actually like) for the ability to make either art a profession. I might even reconsider my ‘nicotine addiction.’

This dream for me holds such hope, such possibility! The ability to telecommute or to work from home in some way would open the door between my past and a future of which I actually want to be a part. I have left behind my stay-at-home-homeschooling-mom status for only two months and I still hate it. I thought it would get easier, that I would learn to accept it, if nothing else. All that has happened is that I've missed out on two months of doing and being what I love - oh, and personal growth/challenging old patterns and bad habits. My daughter continues to grow and mature. She continues to learn, though not necessarily what or how I would teach. I have put aside my values for ten lousy dollars an hour and none of us are happy about it.

Then, I have my husband. Wolf's health is such a challenge, right now. Yesterday, about an hour before I left for work, he passed out in the kitchen. It was the worst I've seen yet, complete with seizure, a full minute unconscious and about ten minutes of disorientation before he could pick himself up off the floor. I cannot tell you how much it kills me to still leave for a job that sucks the life out of me, knowing that the person I'm leaving in charge at home is five weeks away from her eleventh birthday. It's just not right. (Add to all of that the fact that I spent my last two hours at work, yesterday, without seeing a single customer, so dismal was the weather.)

So, I scour internet freelance sites, government job-posting sites, e-bay, hoping to find inspiration and the strength to bring that motivation past the 'I wish' phase. In between searches I love my family, sleep and work.