Tuesday, June 30, 2015

July 15, 2009

It's been 21 days since my return to the blog and I've posted exactly one thing. Sounds about right. I'm slacking...and apparently cheating. I just tried posting a comment to a WordPress blog (this is what my life has come to) and it turns out that I have an account there too. And it turns out that I was as committed to WordPress as I seem to be to BlogSpot. I made exactly one post there on July 15, 2009, but it was kind of funny and I remember it as clearly as yesterday - perhaps more clearly than yesterday, which great news for my Alzheimer's that two neurologists say I don't have. I'll share the old post here, mostly because it buys me another few days before I have to type out an original. Here goes...

Here I am. Starting my own blog. What a riot. Who am I? I suppose you'd like to know but I have such a hard time describing myself. I'm a mother, a working mother, a career woman, a wife, a friend...none of those words - together or separate - none of them do me justice (if I may say so myself).  These descriptions connect me to the existence of others. Is that really how I want to be described?  Don't think so...even if my son is the most adorable child in the entire world.

Rather than trying to come up with some snazzy words that describe how fantastic I am, I might just share tiny excerpts of my life with the hope of eventually finding a description that suits me. I suppose that's my objective for this blog. To answer the question: Who am I?

Given that it's 10:57am, I haven't accomplished that much today but I suppose I have a few minor happenings that are worthy of noting.

My day should have started out just right. Wednesday is my husband's day to get our son up and fed, and its my day to get ready in peace. I'm not sure I fully realized the extent to which I would be required to multi-task once I became a parent. I'm one year in and I haven't killed anyone yet, so I guess I'm doing okay...yet my hair and make-up might disagree.

Today my alarm goes off and my husband is gone. I call for him downstairs. I peek out the windows. The bastard is no where to be found on my morning. Grrrrr! Where the hell could he be? I'm sure he's running. But it's MY morning and we talked about this last night. Seriously, GRRR! My anxiety starts to rise as I mentally squish as many of the morning rituals into as few minutes as possible before my son wakes up...and ponder how much I hate my husband, of course. Two minutes wasted. Yikes! I hit the shower, do the quick-wash and skip my hair washing, pop out of the shower and as I make my move to the hot rollers I hear "da-da? da-da?" from the monitor. My son is up...and he's calling for his dad. MEN!

I took a deep breath to rid myself of negativity before I went in to gree the little guy and his cute expression of surprise and excitement while sitting up in the corner of his crib just lit up my heart. What a doll. Luckily, he cooperated while I changed his diaper and dressed myself for the day - in unison of course. One leg out of his jammies, one leg into my suit pants. Lucky for both of us, I have great balance. My sweaty husband rolled in ten minutes later right before things got really tricky (envision: eyeliner, hot rollers, 1 yr old splashing in the toilet). Turns out that hubby was in the basement riding his bike trainer and didn't hear me calling. I guess he has a rule never to be away after 6:30am on my mornings. Who knew? And yes, he gets up early enough to be out for a run and back before 6:30am. Did I mention my husband is mentally disturbed? He is a part-time triathlete with some sick fascination with bike time, splits and transitions. He'd rather get up at 4am than skip his swim class. Don't ask. It's all foreign to me.

Let's jump ahead. I'm out of the house (without injury, insult or crying...damn, this is a good day) and I have my usual morning call with my good friend and stay at home mom.  I'm not sure how we got into the routine, but I happen to love it. I call her every day when I'm on my way to work. We skip the weekends because our husbands are around and what fun is the call if we can't bad mouth them and their mothers? Today's call started as most every call does with my friend rehashing her sleepless night. Her child doesn't have a sleep routine and is up half the night. In a very bad move, I offered some unsolicited parental advice...even though I knew she wouldn't take it. Let's just say it didn't go over well. But everyone has their problems...

Problems? What problems?  Well...work is one of my problems.  Its a good job. I really like it. I've busted my fanny for many years to get the title and the pay, but I can't seem to locate the respect I envisioned at this stage. Is it because I'm a woman? Is it because I'm a keep-your-head-down, do-your-best-job, don't-look-for-praise type? Or is it because I carry myself with insecurity for having attended state school and not Harvard like everyone else who works here? Any way you slice it, I'm smart god damn it and people like me!  So...why don't I feel like part of the leadership team on the team that I helped build?  It's been a reoccurring issue for me in this  ivy-league infested workplace.

So...needless to say, my job is an issue. BUT...(note a little glimmer in my eye)...I've recently been offered a new office. It's the same size of my current office, with the same window view, but now I'll be only a few doors down from the corner office and tucked in the back, an area that automatically carries a certain cache. The people tucked in the back behind the receptionists and out of public view are always the most important and mysterious of the bunch. What are they doing? Which high-powered appointments are they with now? Yes sir eee bob, that's going to be me in just a few short days. Let's just say that I couldn't be happier. I've had my eye on the space since it was vacated a few months ago. It's about time that someone put two and two together. I mean, duh!

And your probably wondering, how does this relate to your morning? Well as usual, I was the first person to arrive in the office (because afterall, it was my morning). Before I turned on my computer. Before any else arrived. Heck, I didn't even check my voicemails yet!  I snuck down to the new space to give it a little test drive. I opened the shades and peered out the window at my new view, which is only slightly skewed from my old view which once seemed beautiful but now seems dark, dank and very, very last year. I pretend-typed at my new computer. I lounged back in the new chair (which needs an upgrade to leather). I scouted where my furniture would and books would go. It's all laid out in my brain.

Yup, I took my new office for a test drive and it erased from my memory the earlier morning annoyances. My mood was officially reset and I was ready to rock. I snuck back down to my "old" office and banged out more work in 2 hours than most in 2 days. I feel like a rock star.

So what does this minor office adjustment say about me? I guess I'm petty or materialistic. Who knows. Honestly, who cares? But it's nearly time for lunch and I brought some sausage lasagna, so I should get that heated up before tackling my afternoon.

This is a good day.

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