I've been a very bad girl.
I haven't blogged in 21 days.
I haven't sent out a single Christmas card.
I haven't cleaned the apartment until every speck of dust is gone.
I'm very afraid that Santa won't visit me this year because, oh my, I've been so very bad.
I'm hoping, though, that the cards that we've received, despite me sending not a single card in two years (I've completely fallen off the wagon I tell you), are an indication that there is still enough love in my life that those reindeer will find their way here and fill my stockings with chocolate!
[Mental note: buy chocolate...just in case.]
I *am* going to send cards. I have to go buy some first. I am thinking that I will send cards on Christmas Eve. Maybe come up with something symbolic and all. I'm only going to send them to a few folks - those that sent them and a few others as well - folks I don't keep up with on Facebook. I hope the rest of my friends understand. I hope.
I should have been more prepared. I wanted to be more prepared. I used to be more prepared. But in the past few years I seem to be me easily distracted. Or maybe it's because so much of life is now lived in increments.
I'm actually looking forward to curling up on the couch, pen and hand, and writing small and hopefully thoughtful messages to these people in my life. We are all living our lives in increments and I am in awe of the women (and a few men) who, despite this, have managed to get off thoughtful cards that catch me up on their worlds.
I want to be more like them. But for now I'll just have to settle for at least being glad my Christmas shopping is done...and wrapped.
There is always 2009.
NL
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Sunday, November 30, 2008
A Difficult Woman
"You are a very difficult woman, Missus Anna"
My ex-husband, who loves movie quotes, used to say this to me all the time when we were married. While the line is from "King & I", the sentiment, I'm certain, hailed from the very core of the ex's soul at various moments in our marriage. As if somehow I was purposefully making his life difficult and he was a martyr for putting up with me.
I wasn't trying to be difficult. After a while the role got tiresome...and required action.
There is a man at work who I am certain is about to think that I am a very difficult woman. He is my boss's boss and therefore, my boss. Earlier this week he called me, along with two of my colleagues, into his office and announced a reorganization that included removing my boss from her position.
She hadn't been told yet.
As I sat there, in disbelief, I said very little. Within in 24 hours, however, I completely accepted the truth.
This man is an idiot.
Oh, the signs had been there all along. I just refused to see them. I kept telling myself that I wasn't seeing the poor management or lack of ethics possessed by this man. I kept thinking, when things didn't add up, that it was *my* math that was faulty.
I was dreaming.
The fact is that an organizational re-alignment is absolutely in order. The company I work for has two outstanding teams that do the same thing and they should be unified. The leads for both teams believe this ferverently. So, apparently, do others within their respective management chains. Except for my boss's direct boss.
When this man finally sat my boss down to tell her all of the things he'd already told her three direct reports he also said, of me, "If she plans on moving to the other sector she will need to sit down with me, you, and our boss and we will decide if we will let her."
Let her?
Excuse me?
There might have been a time when a man could own a woman, but that time is past. My loyalty to the organization I serve is strong and my team and clients are well cared for. That is a loyalty that is freely given and cannot be owned.
I can honestly say that no one I've worked for in the past 18 years has done such a thorough job of personally losing my loyalty. But, as someone said to me this week, in this case my personal loyalty to this man might have been getting in the way of doing the right thing organizationally.
Not anymore.
NL
My ex-husband, who loves movie quotes, used to say this to me all the time when we were married. While the line is from "King & I", the sentiment, I'm certain, hailed from the very core of the ex's soul at various moments in our marriage. As if somehow I was purposefully making his life difficult and he was a martyr for putting up with me.
I wasn't trying to be difficult. After a while the role got tiresome...and required action.
There is a man at work who I am certain is about to think that I am a very difficult woman. He is my boss's boss and therefore, my boss. Earlier this week he called me, along with two of my colleagues, into his office and announced a reorganization that included removing my boss from her position.
She hadn't been told yet.
As I sat there, in disbelief, I said very little. Within in 24 hours, however, I completely accepted the truth.
This man is an idiot.
Oh, the signs had been there all along. I just refused to see them. I kept telling myself that I wasn't seeing the poor management or lack of ethics possessed by this man. I kept thinking, when things didn't add up, that it was *my* math that was faulty.
I was dreaming.
The fact is that an organizational re-alignment is absolutely in order. The company I work for has two outstanding teams that do the same thing and they should be unified. The leads for both teams believe this ferverently. So, apparently, do others within their respective management chains. Except for my boss's direct boss.
When this man finally sat my boss down to tell her all of the things he'd already told her three direct reports he also said, of me, "If she plans on moving to the other sector she will need to sit down with me, you, and our boss and we will decide if we will let her."
Let her?
Excuse me?
There might have been a time when a man could own a woman, but that time is past. My loyalty to the organization I serve is strong and my team and clients are well cared for. That is a loyalty that is freely given and cannot be owned.
I can honestly say that no one I've worked for in the past 18 years has done such a thorough job of personally losing my loyalty. But, as someone said to me this week, in this case my personal loyalty to this man might have been getting in the way of doing the right thing organizationally.
Not anymore.
NL
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
It's Official
I'm a winner.
In a week of conversations which have had me a mix of happy, mad, hopeful, and upon occassion looking at the person across from me thinking "are you serious? You cannot POSSIBLY be serious? Are you an idiot?"
I have big work ahead of me this week. Work that has been a long time coming if only (if only, if only she says) we can remove some of the testosterone from the mix.
So this evening, after dragging home from a long day at work, I suddenly realized that it was "proof day."
Today is the first day that NaNoWriMo writers were able to upload their manuscripts for "word count validation" and, therefore, the first day that those of us crossing the crazy finish line that is novella writing on speed could actually call ourselves winners.
AND
TA DA!!!!
[This is the badge Chris told me to post. Have I ever mentioned that he's Norwegian?]
But I actually had options. Here's the other one:
What do you think?
NL
In a week of conversations which have had me a mix of happy, mad, hopeful, and upon occassion looking at the person across from me thinking "are you serious? You cannot POSSIBLY be serious? Are you an idiot?"
I have big work ahead of me this week. Work that has been a long time coming if only (if only, if only she says) we can remove some of the testosterone from the mix.
So this evening, after dragging home from a long day at work, I suddenly realized that it was "proof day."
Today is the first day that NaNoWriMo writers were able to upload their manuscripts for "word count validation" and, therefore, the first day that those of us crossing the crazy finish line that is novella writing on speed could actually call ourselves winners.
AND
TA DA!!!!
[This is the badge Chris told me to post. Have I ever mentioned that he's Norwegian?]
But I actually had options. Here's the other one:
What do you think?
NL
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Oh My God, I've Done It!
It's official. I ended my 50,000 word writing spree for my "novella" at about 9 pm this evening - and having written my concluding chapter am sporting 51,145 words in all.
I will upload it on the 25th, which is the soonest possible time, and then I will breathe a little easier knowing that I've dotted the last I and crossed the last T.
Yesterday, knowing that I was in the 10,000 word homestretch and still had a full weekend at my disposal, I went out to the NaNoWriMo site and ordered my official T-shirt and two coffee mugs. One mug I will keep for myself and one mug I will give to Chris, who has been about as patient as a NaNoWriMo widower can possibly be and therefore deserves something of his own. It has a Norwegian Viking Helmet on the logo and that alone appeals to my Viking descendent of a man.
He has finished reading the novel and a copy has been sent off to Bink for her reading pleasure. I'm not sure I can edit it at this point, the rush to the home stretch being what it was, and I'm not sure how wide an attributed audience net I really want to cast if I decide to ask someone else to edit it for me.
But I am finished and I am finished 7 days ahead of schedule. So frankly, I'm pretty darned pleased with myself.
NL
I will upload it on the 25th, which is the soonest possible time, and then I will breathe a little easier knowing that I've dotted the last I and crossed the last T.
Yesterday, knowing that I was in the 10,000 word homestretch and still had a full weekend at my disposal, I went out to the NaNoWriMo site and ordered my official T-shirt and two coffee mugs. One mug I will keep for myself and one mug I will give to Chris, who has been about as patient as a NaNoWriMo widower can possibly be and therefore deserves something of his own. It has a Norwegian Viking Helmet on the logo and that alone appeals to my Viking descendent of a man.
He has finished reading the novel and a copy has been sent off to Bink for her reading pleasure. I'm not sure I can edit it at this point, the rush to the home stretch being what it was, and I'm not sure how wide an attributed audience net I really want to cast if I decide to ask someone else to edit it for me.
But I am finished and I am finished 7 days ahead of schedule. So frankly, I'm pretty darned pleased with myself.
NL
Thursday, November 20, 2008
I Feel GREAT!
This morning I woke up and I felt...well...strange.
I lay there for a moment and ran a quick body inventory.
Toes? Wriggle Wriggle. Oh, stuck in the sheets. Let me move my legs and get them unstuck. Eyup, the legs work.
Oh, I feel a cat moment coming on...stretch the back...ohhhh that feels soooo good. My back is working...why do I still feel strange?
I reach my arms up over my head and continue my stretch, spreading my fingers out one by one...completely enjoying the sensation of new circulation spreading from the tips of my fingers to my shoulders and connecting with the same sensation running up my spine.
What is this strange strange feeling though? I cannot place it.
I snuggle into Chris for a moment and give him instructions. I start to ask "will you make coffee while I shower?" but I stop because I suddenly remember that he has plans to visit the lab to having a fasting blood draw - something I think is absolutely stupid for about 12,000 reasons - all of which I listed in detail yesterday during a fight which involved every one of my personal demons and, because I am me, also involved me pulling out a few of his own and parading them in front of him.
But it is not yesterday. It is a NEW day. And I am feeling strange but can't place it. So instead I say "We will take my daughter to school, than you will drop me off at work, get your errands done, and then you will go to Starbucks and you will bring me a Venti Mocha Latte Breve" which is my favorite coffee drink in the entire world and is essentially the long name for one big fat calorie in a cup. I can feel his mouth curl up against my neck as he grins and asks me to write it down.
Feeling strange still, I swing my legs over the edge and in a few quick strides I'm in the hallway, knocking on my daughter's door, waking her up. "Sweetie" I call "It's time to get up."
"Okay mom, I'm up" her sleepy child's voice sings back to me.
"I love you"
I head back to the bedroom, finish the last bit of bedmaking, and head into the bathroom to shower. Under the steamy hot spray I am still feeling very strange.
Very strange indeed.
And then it hits me. I identify it. Standing there in wonder I realize that for the first time in weeks I am not feeling queasy vaguely green with nausea. Not in the least little bit. In fact, other than still being tired because I really am not the world's best sleeper, I feel pretty darn good.
I do my hair, put my makeup on and now I'm almost giddy with joy. Giddy I would be, in fact, if I weren't STILL tired and if I had coffee in my hands. I am filled with wonderous amazement because physically I feel pretty darn good.
Just before Chris drops me off I say to him "I am not nauseaus, not in the least little bit and you know what I haven't taken in two days?"
"Prilosec" he answers, not missing even a beat.
"Right!" and then I hop out of the car and dash up the steps into the building and up to my office.
And here I sit, working on project financials and waiting for him to bring me my coffee while I revel in the fact that I feel GREAT. I've decided to completely ignore the doctor's orders and listen to my body, which while on the double doses of prilosec craved tomatoes, salads with vinegars, and soda (which I rarely drink.)
What do those things have in common?
They are all acidic and they are all that I've wanted for a week now.
The doctors essentially ordered an approach that shut down all acid production in my stomach. Prior to that they'd been minimizing it with once daily prilosec. I don't have a gallbladder thanks to the gallbladder soccer game my daughter played the entire time I was pregnant with her and as a result I don't produce all the digestive juices we were built to produce.
In my heart I knew what they were telling me didn't make sense. I knew it but instead I listened to them anyway. I trusted them more than I trusted myself.
Until the weekend when I finally said "there has to be a reason I'm craving this stuff" and I went back to my once a day prilosec. And then last night, instead of taking my daily dose I said "no" and this morning...I feel strange.
Because I feel GREAT!
I am on my second bottle of water, happily rehydrating my body...which I've had trouble with over the past few weeks because of the nausea...and I'm enjoying the orange I've flavored it with. Two bottles of water before 9:30 in the morning..amazing. Oh, and my coffee has arrived!
It's going to be a fine day indeed....
NL
I lay there for a moment and ran a quick body inventory.
Toes? Wriggle Wriggle. Oh, stuck in the sheets. Let me move my legs and get them unstuck. Eyup, the legs work.
Oh, I feel a cat moment coming on...stretch the back...ohhhh that feels soooo good. My back is working...why do I still feel strange?
I reach my arms up over my head and continue my stretch, spreading my fingers out one by one...completely enjoying the sensation of new circulation spreading from the tips of my fingers to my shoulders and connecting with the same sensation running up my spine.
What is this strange strange feeling though? I cannot place it.
I snuggle into Chris for a moment and give him instructions. I start to ask "will you make coffee while I shower?" but I stop because I suddenly remember that he has plans to visit the lab to having a fasting blood draw - something I think is absolutely stupid for about 12,000 reasons - all of which I listed in detail yesterday during a fight which involved every one of my personal demons and, because I am me, also involved me pulling out a few of his own and parading them in front of him.
But it is not yesterday. It is a NEW day. And I am feeling strange but can't place it. So instead I say "We will take my daughter to school, than you will drop me off at work, get your errands done, and then you will go to Starbucks and you will bring me a Venti Mocha Latte Breve" which is my favorite coffee drink in the entire world and is essentially the long name for one big fat calorie in a cup. I can feel his mouth curl up against my neck as he grins and asks me to write it down.
Feeling strange still, I swing my legs over the edge and in a few quick strides I'm in the hallway, knocking on my daughter's door, waking her up. "Sweetie" I call "It's time to get up."
"Okay mom, I'm up" her sleepy child's voice sings back to me.
"I love you"
I head back to the bedroom, finish the last bit of bedmaking, and head into the bathroom to shower. Under the steamy hot spray I am still feeling very strange.
Very strange indeed.
And then it hits me. I identify it. Standing there in wonder I realize that for the first time in weeks I am not feeling queasy vaguely green with nausea. Not in the least little bit. In fact, other than still being tired because I really am not the world's best sleeper, I feel pretty darn good.
I do my hair, put my makeup on and now I'm almost giddy with joy. Giddy I would be, in fact, if I weren't STILL tired and if I had coffee in my hands. I am filled with wonderous amazement because physically I feel pretty darn good.
Just before Chris drops me off I say to him "I am not nauseaus, not in the least little bit and you know what I haven't taken in two days?"
"Prilosec" he answers, not missing even a beat.
"Right!" and then I hop out of the car and dash up the steps into the building and up to my office.
And here I sit, working on project financials and waiting for him to bring me my coffee while I revel in the fact that I feel GREAT. I've decided to completely ignore the doctor's orders and listen to my body, which while on the double doses of prilosec craved tomatoes, salads with vinegars, and soda (which I rarely drink.)
What do those things have in common?
They are all acidic and they are all that I've wanted for a week now.
The doctors essentially ordered an approach that shut down all acid production in my stomach. Prior to that they'd been minimizing it with once daily prilosec. I don't have a gallbladder thanks to the gallbladder soccer game my daughter played the entire time I was pregnant with her and as a result I don't produce all the digestive juices we were built to produce.
In my heart I knew what they were telling me didn't make sense. I knew it but instead I listened to them anyway. I trusted them more than I trusted myself.
Until the weekend when I finally said "there has to be a reason I'm craving this stuff" and I went back to my once a day prilosec. And then last night, instead of taking my daily dose I said "no" and this morning...I feel strange.
Because I feel GREAT!
I am on my second bottle of water, happily rehydrating my body...which I've had trouble with over the past few weeks because of the nausea...and I'm enjoying the orange I've flavored it with. Two bottles of water before 9:30 in the morning..amazing. Oh, and my coffee has arrived!
It's going to be a fine day indeed....
NL
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