Part of me leans toward the hippie, flower-child type who would thrive in the Renaissance Festival lifestyle. Part of me buys Gucci purses and more shoes than necessary and loves having financial security. Part of me wants to be someone; part of me wants to be left alone.
One thing is for sure – all parts of me need to be more grateful. Grateful that I even have the opportunity to decide for myself what parts of me I want to show (or hide). Grateful that I live in a culture that allows me autonomy and respect (well, more respect than some other cultures!). Grateful for the wonderful person I share my life with – The Husband. He is supportive, loving, caring, and funny as heck!
So, who am I? Cher has been quoted comparing being rich and poor, young and old, skinny and fat, and deciding that rich, young, and skinny is preferable. I would agree (although I don’t know about Cher’s level of wealth; I just know that we’re much better off now than we were when we started out). I am older, I am larger. I am unhealthier. I am in more physical pain than before, but less emotional pain than before.
I do not like my job. I do not feel useful and I do not have enough to do (yet people around me feel that I must be busy). I do not like long commutes, yet I chose to take a job farther away than any job I have ever had. What was I thinking? (I was thinking that, “I am unemployed and should really take this job in Minnetonka because it’s only until the end of August.”) Well, it’s September and I am still here – probably until next March unless I find something else. And no more hour-long commutes!
Part of me wants to retire, but I know that a big part of me is too lazy. I need to have something to do, or I risk doing nothing (or not much). Is that so wrong? “Yes,” says part of me. “Why?” says another part. Why do I have to do something all of the time? Why can’t I just be? Perhaps because I am not mindful enough to remember to just be. I would sink into mindlessness, and that’s not acceptable. Why should The Husband keep his job just to support me? He deserves to retire more than I do. He works harder, has a better work ethic, and suffers greater stress than I do. Part of me thinks I should find a job for myself that would allow him to retire, but I don’t know if that is realistic. Maybe after we get rid of the mortgage I could continue full-time and he could at least switch to something less stressful.
Part of me needs to get back to work, even though most of me knows I don’t have a lot to do right now.
Tuesday, September 03, 2013
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
I feel a purge coming on
Warning: mindless blog post coming…
I am not sure, but it’s possible that I own over 100 pairs of shoes. I am not bragging – it just sort of happened over time. I have a pair of Minnetonka moccasins that my mom bought for me when I was a freshman – in high school. (Hey, they’re classics!) My mom also supplied me with a bunch of shoes over the decades that she no longer needed or liked, so I have plenty in my shoe collection that were free. Thrift store purchases also helped boost my overall shoe count without costing too much. I do, however, have some pairs that cost a little bit. Just a little. Like the $98 boots (but hey, they were originally $199!). And the Reeboks I bought for my study abroad trip to Toulouse, France. But overall, many of the pairs of shoes I have were deals. Finding cool shoes is fun, but finding them at a great price is even better!
That said, I think I may be ready to part with some of my shoes. A drop- off trip to Goodwill is in the cards soon anyway, so I may as well see if any of my shoes can be of use to someone else. Some may end up in the garbage, like the cheap black kitten-heel pumps from Target that I have worn to bits. There’s also the sandals I got in Maryland that may have finally bit the dust (unfortunately, I was out running errands far from home when the strap on those gave out – good thing I was near a Walgreens with cheap flip-flops!).
I need to be honest too. I have pairs of shoes I have not even worn. If they’ve been in my closet for over a year without use, they should go (except my beaded suede boots – they rock, but they’re too noisy to wear most days).
I am wearing some cute Italian mules from Mom today. They look great with my post-birthday pedicure (with flowers and rhinestones).
I warned you - this was pretty mindless, wasn't it?
I am not sure, but it’s possible that I own over 100 pairs of shoes. I am not bragging – it just sort of happened over time. I have a pair of Minnetonka moccasins that my mom bought for me when I was a freshman – in high school. (Hey, they’re classics!) My mom also supplied me with a bunch of shoes over the decades that she no longer needed or liked, so I have plenty in my shoe collection that were free. Thrift store purchases also helped boost my overall shoe count without costing too much. I do, however, have some pairs that cost a little bit. Just a little. Like the $98 boots (but hey, they were originally $199!). And the Reeboks I bought for my study abroad trip to Toulouse, France. But overall, many of the pairs of shoes I have were deals. Finding cool shoes is fun, but finding them at a great price is even better!
That said, I think I may be ready to part with some of my shoes. A drop- off trip to Goodwill is in the cards soon anyway, so I may as well see if any of my shoes can be of use to someone else. Some may end up in the garbage, like the cheap black kitten-heel pumps from Target that I have worn to bits. There’s also the sandals I got in Maryland that may have finally bit the dust (unfortunately, I was out running errands far from home when the strap on those gave out – good thing I was near a Walgreens with cheap flip-flops!).
I need to be honest too. I have pairs of shoes I have not even worn. If they’ve been in my closet for over a year without use, they should go (except my beaded suede boots – they rock, but they’re too noisy to wear most days).
I am wearing some cute Italian mules from Mom today. They look great with my post-birthday pedicure (with flowers and rhinestones).
I warned you - this was pretty mindless, wasn't it?
Monday, August 12, 2013
Ah, Corporate Land
I am coming to the realization that what I do at my job does not matter. It does not matter not only in the big picture, but it also does not seem to matter in the silliness that is the corporate world. You see, I have done a lot of stuff in Corporate Land that is pretty insignificant when you compare them to things like illness, suffering, love, life, and death. However, the stuff I did at least seem to matter to the projects and campaigns on which I was working.
Now, the procedures I am writing appear to be completely useless – even within the project for which they were intended. My procedures seem to be a middle step between the process flows and the training materials. Thing is, there does not need to be a middle step between the process flows and the training materials. And, the procedures I am writing are too high-level to be used as the training materials – so someone else is developing the training – without even looking at the procedures I have written.
I wish someone else would realize this and let me go. I am not adding value to the organization, and it’s getting tiring. I have decided to start by subtly suggesting that perhaps the procedures that I have already done are all that are needed. Then, perhaps I could mention that I would write more, but the workstreams do not seem to need them anymore – they are focusing now on the training and the workarounds needed in case the systems don’t cooperate on Day One. So, I try to keep busy (or at least busy looking). I have volunteered to be of assistance for other areas – perhaps if I keep volunteering, someone will realize that I have too much time on my hands. (Sigh.)
Yes, I am job hunting. It’s hard to do that at work (ethics, anyone?) but if they don’t see that I am not adding value (despite my hints), they are not paying attention.
Fortunately, this too will pass. Probably soon – and then on to the next big project in Corporate Land.
Now, the procedures I am writing appear to be completely useless – even within the project for which they were intended. My procedures seem to be a middle step between the process flows and the training materials. Thing is, there does not need to be a middle step between the process flows and the training materials. And, the procedures I am writing are too high-level to be used as the training materials – so someone else is developing the training – without even looking at the procedures I have written.
I wish someone else would realize this and let me go. I am not adding value to the organization, and it’s getting tiring. I have decided to start by subtly suggesting that perhaps the procedures that I have already done are all that are needed. Then, perhaps I could mention that I would write more, but the workstreams do not seem to need them anymore – they are focusing now on the training and the workarounds needed in case the systems don’t cooperate on Day One. So, I try to keep busy (or at least busy looking). I have volunteered to be of assistance for other areas – perhaps if I keep volunteering, someone will realize that I have too much time on my hands. (Sigh.)
Yes, I am job hunting. It’s hard to do that at work (ethics, anyone?) but if they don’t see that I am not adding value (despite my hints), they are not paying attention.
Fortunately, this too will pass. Probably soon – and then on to the next big project in Corporate Land.
Monday, July 22, 2013
Is THIS was I was meant for?
Okay, it’s time to figure out what I am supposed to do with myself. I’d like to have this decided for the rest of my life, but perhaps that is not realistic. So, let’s concentrate on what I can do with myself for the near future.
I am about to have a birthday, and if you had told me when I was young what I would be doing with myself at this stage of my life, I would have been disappointed. A corporate job? A meaningless corporate drone position? Seriously? Okay, I kinda knew that I would not really ever become a rock star (much more musical talent would be required), but to just sit and write procedures that no one will ever read for a living? (It’s true – I am writing high-level procedures for a new software application, and I have recently learned that those procedures will serve no real purpose. The employees will use the training materials someone else is writing. Why didn’t we just start with the training materials?) Bah. Corporate Land.
So, why am I here? Money. Believe me, if I weren’t getting paid, I sure wouldn’t be here. I certainly am not getting intellectual stimulation, amusment, or any other benefit sitting here tapping away on the company-issued laptop. The free coffee isn’t enough to get me to drive from Northern Dakota county to darn near Wayzata each morning.
I know myself: I am too lazy to be left on my own. I need an employer to get myself going each day. Otherwise, I am not entirely sure I’d get up at all. My greatest talent is sleeping. If I could get paid for that, I’d do okay. Not great, but okay. Sure, I’d get up for the dog – he needs exercise and he’s worth getting up for. But even he spends most of his day sleeping (lucky dog!).
I need to get moving. I need to find a better fit for my skills. Corporate blah is not doing it for me, and I knew it wouldn’t. I’d take a decent pay cut for a more meaningful position. But I do need an employer. Otherwise, I’d still be in bed!
I am about to have a birthday, and if you had told me when I was young what I would be doing with myself at this stage of my life, I would have been disappointed. A corporate job? A meaningless corporate drone position? Seriously? Okay, I kinda knew that I would not really ever become a rock star (much more musical talent would be required), but to just sit and write procedures that no one will ever read for a living? (It’s true – I am writing high-level procedures for a new software application, and I have recently learned that those procedures will serve no real purpose. The employees will use the training materials someone else is writing. Why didn’t we just start with the training materials?) Bah. Corporate Land.
So, why am I here? Money. Believe me, if I weren’t getting paid, I sure wouldn’t be here. I certainly am not getting intellectual stimulation, amusment, or any other benefit sitting here tapping away on the company-issued laptop. The free coffee isn’t enough to get me to drive from Northern Dakota county to darn near Wayzata each morning.
I know myself: I am too lazy to be left on my own. I need an employer to get myself going each day. Otherwise, I am not entirely sure I’d get up at all. My greatest talent is sleeping. If I could get paid for that, I’d do okay. Not great, but okay. Sure, I’d get up for the dog – he needs exercise and he’s worth getting up for. But even he spends most of his day sleeping (lucky dog!).
I need to get moving. I need to find a better fit for my skills. Corporate blah is not doing it for me, and I knew it wouldn’t. I’d take a decent pay cut for a more meaningful position. But I do need an employer. Otherwise, I’d still be in bed!
Friday, July 19, 2013
I never knew love like this before
I love animals. Always have. I have been primarily a cat person all of my life, but about ten years ago, something changed. Oh, I still love cats and I don’t think I’ll ever not have at least one cat with me for the rest of my life. But ten years ago The Husband and I went to a local humane society and got ourselves a puppy. We learned of this puppy through petfinder.com, a great way to find your next best friend.
If you’ve read this blog, you probably know about Pepper. I admit I was nervous – I had never owned a dog before. I knew they were more work than cats. I knew I had a lot to learn. I wasn’t sure how to get the dog to let me know when he needs to go outside (turns out you just let the dog out and he’ll take care of business – at least that’s how it is with Pep).
When Pepper was young, I learned that we needed to keep plenty of appropriate things for him to chew on handy. Our living room coffee table is not one of those appropriate things, but the teeth marks are still there. Fortunately, that was the worst damage we’ve had from his puppy years. We crate-trained him, took him to Puppy Kindergarten, lost him many times in the woods behind our house, and got him to sit, stay, come, and lay down.
He gained ten pounds a month for six months. His first bath was in one of the kitchen sinks. His second bath was in both kitchen sinks. He quickly moved up to the bathtub. He has been around 80 pounds for most of his life – a perfect weight for his body.
As Pepper got older, we all got into a routine: walks, park visits, the occasional hike, visiting his human grandparents (he gets excited when he hears the words “grandma” and “grandpa”), and playing with his girlfriend, Suzy.
When Pepper turned seven years old, I told him that I wanted another seven years. He seemed to understand. (Okay, no he didn’t. I just want to think he did.) The point is that I was realizing that he was aging, and that dogs don’t live as long as we may want them to. By this time I had grown quite attached to this beautiful creature living with me. The bond we formed together surprised me. I knew I would like having a dog, but I am blown away by how much he matters to me.
I am his Mama. When he gets hurt, he goes to his Mama. I have bandaged him, taken thorns out of his paws, washed him when he had a run-in with a skunk, and cuddled him when he needed love. The Husband (aka Daddy) is the main playmate, but I am the main caregiver.
He has changed my life. Profoundly.
I see love in his gorgeous brown eyes. I see love when he thwaps his tail on the floor when I approach him, as if to say, “Snuggle with me, Mama.” (How can I resist?)
He’s almost ten and a half years old. That makes him an old dog – about 75 years old in human terms. And, for a little over a year, he has been dealing with anxiety and the occasional panic attack. It breaks my heart to see him panting, pacing, and lost. We’ve brought him to the vet, got him on medications (daily and as needed), and got him a Thundershirt to give him some support when he’s feeling shaky.
I would do anything to take his anxiety away. I’d gladly take it on myself. I get angry at flies and mosquitoes for having the nerve to bother my baby – I certainly don’t want my sweetie bothered by any unease or discomfort from within his own body.
He still has more good moments than not-so-good. When he’s outside, he romps and sniffs and plays like usual, although perhaps a little more slowly than he used to. He loves his yew bushes. He walks into the bushes and gets a coniferous massage and back scratching.
The Husband and I do what we’ve got to do to keep Pepper happy (or at least okay). He is so incredibly worth it. That love in his eyes makes it easy to want to do anything and everything for him.
He’s my baby. I love my Pepper Dog!
If you’ve read this blog, you probably know about Pepper. I admit I was nervous – I had never owned a dog before. I knew they were more work than cats. I knew I had a lot to learn. I wasn’t sure how to get the dog to let me know when he needs to go outside (turns out you just let the dog out and he’ll take care of business – at least that’s how it is with Pep).
When Pepper was young, I learned that we needed to keep plenty of appropriate things for him to chew on handy. Our living room coffee table is not one of those appropriate things, but the teeth marks are still there. Fortunately, that was the worst damage we’ve had from his puppy years. We crate-trained him, took him to Puppy Kindergarten, lost him many times in the woods behind our house, and got him to sit, stay, come, and lay down.
He gained ten pounds a month for six months. His first bath was in one of the kitchen sinks. His second bath was in both kitchen sinks. He quickly moved up to the bathtub. He has been around 80 pounds for most of his life – a perfect weight for his body.
As Pepper got older, we all got into a routine: walks, park visits, the occasional hike, visiting his human grandparents (he gets excited when he hears the words “grandma” and “grandpa”), and playing with his girlfriend, Suzy.
When Pepper turned seven years old, I told him that I wanted another seven years. He seemed to understand. (Okay, no he didn’t. I just want to think he did.) The point is that I was realizing that he was aging, and that dogs don’t live as long as we may want them to. By this time I had grown quite attached to this beautiful creature living with me. The bond we formed together surprised me. I knew I would like having a dog, but I am blown away by how much he matters to me.
I am his Mama. When he gets hurt, he goes to his Mama. I have bandaged him, taken thorns out of his paws, washed him when he had a run-in with a skunk, and cuddled him when he needed love. The Husband (aka Daddy) is the main playmate, but I am the main caregiver.
He has changed my life. Profoundly.
I see love in his gorgeous brown eyes. I see love when he thwaps his tail on the floor when I approach him, as if to say, “Snuggle with me, Mama.” (How can I resist?)
He’s almost ten and a half years old. That makes him an old dog – about 75 years old in human terms. And, for a little over a year, he has been dealing with anxiety and the occasional panic attack. It breaks my heart to see him panting, pacing, and lost. We’ve brought him to the vet, got him on medications (daily and as needed), and got him a Thundershirt to give him some support when he’s feeling shaky.
I would do anything to take his anxiety away. I’d gladly take it on myself. I get angry at flies and mosquitoes for having the nerve to bother my baby – I certainly don’t want my sweetie bothered by any unease or discomfort from within his own body.
He still has more good moments than not-so-good. When he’s outside, he romps and sniffs and plays like usual, although perhaps a little more slowly than he used to. He loves his yew bushes. He walks into the bushes and gets a coniferous massage and back scratching.
The Husband and I do what we’ve got to do to keep Pepper happy (or at least okay). He is so incredibly worth it. That love in his eyes makes it easy to want to do anything and everything for him.
He’s my baby. I love my Pepper Dog!
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
Is it pain or is it withdrawal?
I suppose it's a bit of both. I got brave and went to work without my Vicodin. I took my second dose of Humira on Monday, and I am trying to be hopeful that this will take away the pain (this and the methotrexate I take on Thursdays). So, today I just felt a little weird along with the joint soreness. I took the dog for a walk after work and now I feel a little weirder... but resolute in my decision not to take any Vicodin today. I am going to try this again tomorrow - I need to remember to bring more ibuprofen to work!!
Three of my knuckles on my right hand hurt. The Husband told me to stop punching people at work so my hand won't hurt as much (he's so funny, ain't he?).
I do need to stop typing this post before I punch my computer. It's so old and slow, it makes me feel like an Olympic athlete by comparison!
Friday, July 05, 2013
CarePages - Quest4Diagnosis
I've had a blog on CarePages (from the Mayo Clinic) titled Quest4Diagnosis that I have used to chronicle my journey from being in pain and stumping doctors in the Twin Cities to going to the Mayo Clinic and having all sorts of fun tests done to finally arrive at a diagnosis of rheumatoid arthritis (RA).
I have not been a very regular poster on either of my blogs, so I decided to continue with this one (Collette's Place) and discontinue posting to the CarePages blog. That means that I will be posting my adventures with RA on this blog (as well as other thoughts and ponderings I come up with).
If you came here from my CarePages site, welcome to Collette's Place! As you can see, I've been on this blog for a while longer. Thank you, thank you, thank you for all of your support! I certainly have felt the love through cyberspace, and it is a wonderful feeling.
Here's to sharing life and tackling its curve balls together!
Take care of yourselves,
Collette (Yes, this is a pseudonym.)
I have not been a very regular poster on either of my blogs, so I decided to continue with this one (Collette's Place) and discontinue posting to the CarePages blog. That means that I will be posting my adventures with RA on this blog (as well as other thoughts and ponderings I come up with).
If you came here from my CarePages site, welcome to Collette's Place! As you can see, I've been on this blog for a while longer. Thank you, thank you, thank you for all of your support! I certainly have felt the love through cyberspace, and it is a wonderful feeling.
Here's to sharing life and tackling its curve balls together!
Take care of yourselves,
Collette (Yes, this is a pseudonym.)
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