Late September and work

Dragon Mood? -- waking up

It's 6:25 a.m. by the digital clock on my laptop, it's dark outside and cold here inside the house. I'm not wanting to turn on the heat just yet, but how much longer can I hold out?

I want to write about my job. I'm in my seventh or eighth week now; I've lost count of the weeks. In weeks four, five, six, my emotions were up and down about it. I'm so accustomed to being good at things I do, it was hard for me to work, work, work with little to no success.

My attitude is a little better now. Each week I am supposed to achieve ten submittals. That works out to two per day for the work week. Last week, I hit eight -- and felt pretty darn good about it. This past Monday, I got two submittals; my first two submittals for a Monday. Another small success.

I have talked with my boss several times about this. Actually, he's asked me how I think things are going. I really appreciate him doing this. It has given me an opportunity to vent a bit, but even better, he offered me feedback -- feedback that I'm doing just fine and he's happy with my work so far.

I enjoy talking with people. I know this sounds weird, but I try to project care and acceptance towards each person I talk to, over the phone. I smile and joke with them during our conversations. Frequently, these jobseekers make me laugh. I am amazed at how often I feel the goodwill of complete strangers.

In a sentence, the job is going well. I LIKE my job!

Remnant

Dragon Mood? -- [I don't know what my mood was that day.]

While I sit here awaiting a call from a prospective employer, I am diverting my attention to this blog. Busy, busy.

[I found this languishing in the "Draft" section of my blog posts. From the middle of July. Time to publish.]

Catching up, Madison visit

Dragon Mood? -- remembering and smiling

I knew this would happen. One day, it's Thursday and I can hardly wait to get on the road to Madison. Before you can say "lickety split," it's Wednesday, been there and back, and whew, where did the time go?

S was a champ and drove us the entire way. Driving her car may have had something to do with that. Not that she doesn't trust me. It's just that it's her car, you know?

We arrived about 1:15 a.m., Caroline met us at the door and Dakota stuck her nose in our crotches. And then danced and leapt around. Welcome!

Friday morning, Ron was in the kitchen, taking a break from his work routine, preparing to make Egg McRonbos for us. He not only made us breakfast, but French-pressed coffee as well. Delicious!

After eating, we cleaned up and headed out to St. Vinny's for our requisite visit. Gosh, what a visit! S found an aluminum frame lounger in near-perfect condition for $5, I found two pieces of pottery, Caroline a Fiesta dish along with a Hall china coffee mug. Steph also snagged four record albums (yes, vinyl!) for $1 a piece, while I picked up some 'pearl' earrings. Caroline got the best find though in a delightful, handmade rocking hobby horse for a small child. As she made her way across the big room, holding the hobby horse up to show me, I asked her, "Are you trying to tell me something?" Her answer was a big grin. (aside - While the 'deed' is not done, things are being set in motion for it to happen.) Oh yes, and Caroline also found a completely cute pair of angel wings, replete with feathers and shiny sequins sprinkled here and there. Halloween, watch out for a drunken angel!

Staggering out of St. Vinny's, arms loaded, we headed to a nearby Indian restaurant where Ron met us for lunch. Don't ask me what I ate. It was a buffet full of tasty, exotic dishes. I enjoyed virtually all of them ... well, maybe except the slightly chewy goat meat one. At Caroline's encouragement, I ordered a hot chai tea that was lovely and delicious. Not too sugary, with just the right amount of gingery warmth and zinginess. Hmm, I can still taste its yumminess.

Saturday was a bit of a slow start, but we made it to the Farmer's Market in downtown Madison. Oh my, it was every bit as busy and crowded with shoppers as I remembered. Every step of the four blocks-long market, there were stands replete with colorful veggies and tempting jams and humongous hearty mums and cheese curds and breads and honey and black Spanish radishes (just remember the amazing translation from 'jacquard' to 'daikon' -- "I speak Stephnie!")and too many other delicious treats to list. We went with two or three items in mind to purchase and left with Caroline's trusty backpack loaded to the brim. Chivalrous Ron toted the hefty thing around and never groaned, not even once.

We headed to the Soap Opera, but sidetracked ourselves into Paul's Club for the requisite spicy Bloody Marys. Yummy, as I knew they would be.

The Soap Opera was cozily intimate, busy and filled with sumptuous fragrances that always evoke an unexpected sense of well-being. I glided over to the table filled with Mistral soaps and began sniffing all the new 'flavors'. It's a place to simply give in to your senses, particularly the smell-icious one.

Saturday night, we all enjoyed Caroline's culinary gifts: corn chowder made with freshly frozen sweet corn and finely diced jalapenos (awesome!); Juliette tomatoes, fresh, backyard basil leaves and fresh mozzarella salad; and yummy fresh boiled shrimp with zingy homemade cocktail sauce bursting with horseradish. Talk about a feast! We ate our fill and then some.

The highlight of Sunday was a visit to the Sugar Shack, a vintage record shop. It was packed with album covers, vintage posters, memorabilia and crates and crates of old music. While Caroline and I poked around for a half an hour or so, Ron and S easily spent an hour plus sifting through the treasures awaiting their discovery. Meanwhile, Caroline and I settled down out in her trusty Mazda, called Uncle George for his early birthday celebration and talked with our cousins on speaker phone.

It was a great weekend!

Maybe TMI

Dragon Mood? -- sagging and annoyed

Reaching for my seat belt to buckle up, I felt this little *snap* and instantly knew what had happened. The underwire in my bra had broken, snapped in two pieces like a dry twig.

Honestly, if this were the first time this was happening, I wouldn't be so annoyed, maybe. But this is about the third or fourth time!

If my breasts were people, I think they would be two muscle-y bouncers in a gritty bar on the wrong side of the tracks. Not necessarily the biggest pair you've ever seen, but you don't want to mess with 'em.

Thursday's insight

Dragon Mood? -- a dim bulb brightened once again on the importance of attitude

Sometimes, the Divine drops an object lesson right in your lap, right when you need it.

I had a phone conversation with a fellow I'll call Mr. M this morning. Nice enough fellow, but when it came right down to it, he was afraid. Full of fear, mistrust and suspicion. I do not anticipate ever finding this fellow a job. In my humble opinion, his attitude will create roadblocks at every step, at every turn.

Just before lunch, I had another phone conversation with a fellow named Mr. R. What was he like? Pleasant, jovial, even helpful. We laughed over our shared perceptions of the predictable foibles of a large employer here in Michigan. "Hey, give us a quote on a car part. What's it gonna cost us? Yup, that's all the information we're gonna give you."

Similarly, "find us an employee who knows about car parts. We need him to start Monday. Yup, that's all the information we're gonna give you."

AaarghH! Crazy-making behavior to be sure, but this fellow demonstrated to me ever so clearly how to laugh about it. What an insight!

singing "An-tih-suh-PAY-shunnnn"

Dragon Mood? -- like a drop of water on a hot skillet

While you can't see it through the thick fog of the internet's atmosphere, I am sitting here virtually dancing with anticipation at driving to Madison tomorrow night to see my beautiful daughter, Caroline, and her hubby, Ron. S is dancing too though she doesn't know it yet.

Early bird reflections

Dragon Mood? -- energized

Aperfect example of an inverse relationship is our current weather: as the humidity goes down, people's energy levels go up. We have experienced such a change in the past 36 hours and oh my, what a difference it makes!

I hit the sack early last night after a bout of insomnia on Sunday night. It's been over a week now since I saw S, the longest time (I believe) we've been apart in all our years together. I miss her and I miss having my bed partner. Hence, the insomnia. Or so I think. It could also be hormones. Or anxieties. Or change in the barometric pressure or alignment of the planets or who knows what! I slept poorly Sunday night and exceedingly well last night. Thank goodness!

Anyway, last night I was out front of our pied-a-terre watering the flowers and attempting to give the poor yellowed, exhausted-looking grass a drink of water from all the consecutive hot days we've had. During the steamy heat, our street had been deserted. Everyone was inside, air conditioners on high, avoiding the Louisiana-style heat.

But last night, with cooler air, our neighbors, Mike and Amy, came by with their two strollers holding 18-month old Lucy and newborns, Adam and Kara. Moments later, Jan came streaming out of her house, wanting to see the babies. Tom remained in his forever perch on the front porch. I saw other people wander in and out of their houses, intermittently, checking the streetscape and their neighbors' activities. Kids raced by on their bicycles, apparently aware that summer is slipping away, school classrooms just around the corner, waiting to capture and hold their energies. Cooler air certainly invites more movement and more activity.

And I awoke this morning, just after five, rested and energized by the notion that I could have almost TWO FULL HOURS to read email, check Facebook postings, write here and simply enjoy the luxury of time to myself, a commodity that has become much more dear in the past two weeks with this new job.

Not that I'm complaining, mind you . . .

Reflecting on my first week of work

Dragon Mood? -- capturing some thoughts swirling around in my head

It's the morning of my fourth day of work after 15 months of unemployment and job seeking. I am still in the throes of adapting back to a work life and work schedule. Some random thoughts of mine:

• It takes energy to be 'on task', paying attention, soaking up information, not looking like you're wasting time. This week, in particular, I'm very aware of projecting good perceptions of myself as a worker.
• I am surprised and truly pleased at how much I'm enjoying the small-company atmosphere of this workplace. It's been well over 20 years since I worked in such a small group and I like it!
• Comparing this workplace environment to my last employer's workplace environment, I am struck by how confining, restrictive and fearful a place my former place of employment was. Truly STRUCK! How did I survive in such a place? Just based on the number of times I've thought about that in the past three days, that old, negative environment left much more of a scar on me than I ever realized before now.
• A new coworker made some casual yet negative comments about President Obama yesterday.  I didn't bite on them and after sleeping on it, I think I'm going to keep my political tendencies to myself.  I just don't want to get in a political pissing match with coworkers ... not yet, at least.
• My work wardrobe is feeling a bit old and worn.  I need to keep my eyes open for some snappy, casual clothes to supplement these poor old work horses.
• I am about to jump off the high dive today and begin talking with clients OUT THERE. A bit scary, you know? But I honestly believe in my heart of hearts that I'm going to succeed and will do well at connecting with people. Hopefully, I can make a difference in some peoples' lives, help them get employed ... and I can become a successful recruiter. Wouldn't that be awesome?

Psychopomp

Dragon Mood? -- elated

Scanning an old, familiar website, I found a new one, Wordsmith, which I think I will be revisiting frequently!

The word, psychopomp, caught my eye:

PRONUNCIATION:
(SY-ko-pomp)

MEANING:
noun: A guide of souls, one who escorts soul of a newly-deceased to the afterlife.

ETYMOLOGY:
From Greek psychopompos (conductor of souls), from psycho-, from psyche (breath, spirit, soul) + pompos (conductor, guide).

USAGE:

"Harold Bloom here presents himself as a mystagogue and a soothsayer, a psychopomp of our times, conducting souls into unknown territories."
~ Marina Warner; Where Angels Tread; The Washington Post; Sep 15, 1996

I AM excited!

A nice little surprise

Dragon Mood? -- happy for her

What a happy discovery! I learned on Facebook this morning that the young woman who lived with us for six months in 2007 got engaged over the weekend. Congratulations, Erin!

[And my goodness -- it must be my mindset, given Josh's recent engagement -- suddenly I'm so noticing so MANY MORE engagements and weddings! Hmmph!]

Up North Surprise

Dragon Mood? -- pleased

Once upon a time ... a certain person's mother decided that the only way to fill the void in her life was to shop, buy things, spend money (she truly couldn't afford to spend) and fill her house with knick-knacks, geegaws and other useless decorative frou-frou.  Did I mention to the point of bursting?

This aging mother (I'll call her Ally) is now in serious financial trouble and may actually lose her home and be forced to move.  Ally vehemently denies being a hoarder.  I mean V-E-H-E-M-E-N-T-L-Y!   She becomes highly volatile and agitated  at any suggestion that she is responsible for the cluttered, claustrophobic condition of her home.

Imagine my apprehension then at S and my plans to drive to Ally's home, three hours away, and work with her to go through possessions, sort things into keep/donate/trash piles and possibly move some furniture.

My apprehension was not without cause.  Within 15 minutes of our arrival, Ally's face became suffused with anger over the alleged judgmental 'look' on my face, followed with the statement, "You can leave and don't come back."  (Breathing out slowly.)  Okay.

I became quiet and avoided eye contact, much like you would with a scary, threatening dog.  (The adjective, "junkyard" comes to mind.)  Thankfully, that was the one and only outburst from Ally.

From that point on, S and I were able to move (correction, barely move) a large, overstuffed sofa (big armrolls, fancy scalloping on the back and huge cabbage rose upholstery) out the front door and to the garage for temporary storage.  That is, after S removed the front door off its hinges.  And then we struggled afterward to remount the door because the hinges were never properly aligned when originally installed.  Sheesh!

But getting that oversized sofa out of the living room was only the first step.  We took out two upholstered white chairs, along with a big heavy oak entertainment center (thankfully equipped with rolling wheels), several dark, dated side tables, a magazine rack, some lamps, a large television set and four or five wooden and painted chairs.  Our piece de resistance was a double-size mattress and box springs that had been previously professionally wrapped and stored in a pole barn.  S and I used a heavy-duty dolly to pull them.  As she pulled the dolly through a two-track sandpile, I literally had to run to keep up with her, my task to hold the mattress and box springs upright.   But we did it and we made it!  YaY!

Ally, to her credit, had been working since our previous trip to sort and organize items.  She had almost a dozen grocery bags filled with unwanted clothing (mostly Grandma's) that she had washed, folded and packed.  Those all went out to the garage to eventually be loaded in our truck.  A tacky bathroom shelving unit stowed forever in the main hallway of the house went out to the garage for donation.  (It's amusing to me how getting rid of certain items carries much more emotional weight and gratification than others.  Who knew?)  Ally sorted and I carried boxes and bags of old magazines for recycling.  By midafternoon, we ordered a pizza and moved out to the pole barn in the backyard.

Hoarding is an odd, curious phenomenon to me.  Ally is the only person that I am intimate enough with to see it up close.  Certain things appear to hold an unusual attraction for her:  glass jars of all sorts and sizes, coffee makers, tiny collectibles (she has an entire case filled with miniature tea sets), certain magazines (National Geographic and Smithsonian being the preeminent ones, because of their 'educational' value?).  She has glass everywhere.  Cut glass, leaded glass, ordinary glass, old Cheese-Whiz jars -- if it's glass, she hoards it.

But, here's the good thing. For all of my apprehensions and S's apprehensions, we had an incredibly productive day, a SURPRISING day, a day (almost) without any emotional blowups, and we drove home late that night feeling pretty good about our day's work. Let's have a BIG SMILE all around!

QOTD - July 28, 2010

Dragon Mood? -- nodding my head in agreement

The only person who is with you your entire life is you. Make peace with yourself. (From @reneeludwigs)

Saturday reverberations

Dragon Mood? -- life-changing goosebumpy

Still catching up from the awesome news that my son, Josh, and his girlfriend, Leah, in a few short moments, made the life-changing, goosebumps transition from boyfriend/girlfriend to engaged or betrothed.

But first a message from our sponsor, on the origins of the word, "betrothed."

Origin:
1275–1325; ME [Middle English] betrouthe, variation of betreuthe ( be- be- + treuthe truth; see troth)

—Synonyms
1. engage, promise, pledge, plight.

To me, betrothal is an old-fashioneded word, almost verging on archaic(?). Nowadays, we refer to a couple as being "engaged" rather than betrothed. Curiously, the definition above left me unsatisfied, like a bad fast-food meal, so I dug a bit more and found some historical context for the "betrothal" at Wikipedia.

Historically betrothal was a formal contract, blessed or officiated by a religious authority. Betrothal was binding as marriage and a divorce was necessary to terminate a betrothal. Betrothed couples were regarded legally as husband and wife - even before their wedding and physical union

I didn't know that did you? So Josh, your proposing to Leah at sunrise on Lake Michigan was no hey-whaddaya-say sort of thing. It was the REAL DEAL -- and knowing you for the principled, responsible young man that you are -- as you were most likely well aware.

QOTD - July 27, 2010

Dragon Mood? -- pondering this

Optimism is joyful searching; pessimism is a prison of fear and a clutching at illusionary safety. ~ K.A.Brehony (thanks to @CoachCecily for this)

Replete with happiness

Dragon Mood? -- smiling, tickled pink, thrilled

This weekend I was unplugged from my laptop and as a result, the internet.  Since I don't have a 'smart phone,' I didn't have a chance to share with you the good news I got this weekend.

I was up early Saturday morning, dressed, with a cup of coffee in hand when my cell phone rang.  It was Josh.  I'm thinking to myself, what is he doing calling me at 8:15 on a Saturday morning (7:15 his time in Milwaukee).  Is everything okay?

After a little chit-chat (rain, sinkholes, really?), he told me that he had proposed to Leah.  And Leah, also on the phone, said that she had accepted.  Yay!!

I am so happy and excited for both of them!

Slyly creeping in when I wasn't looking

Dragon Mood? -- reflecting

Days and weeks are slipping by.  I have been unemployed or 'job seeking' as the (politically correct) career counselors would have me describe myself for 15 months now.  That's a pretty significant chunk of time.  In the moments when I'm not looking at job postings, exploring companies, networking with new and old contacts, I have time to think and to reflect.

And with my reflection, would you like to know what I realized?  (Drumroll, please.)   I am aging.

I can see it in my skin, most obviously on my face, but also on the backs of my hands, my forearms, even the skin around my ankles.  In all those places and probably many more, my skin is beginning to take on that 'old lady' look which I never imagined myself having.  Horrors!

For a year or two, I've been commenting about the blotchiness of my forearms.  My doctor informs me this is from sun damage.  While I like being out in the sun, I have never been one of those crazy people who oil themselves up and bake in the sun for hours.  Never!  Imagine my surprise at her diagnosis.

My face is holding up reasonably well.  Being overweight does have its advantages.  I have incredibly few wrinkles around my eyes.  I credit my mother (thanks, Mom) for the genetic benefits she bestowed on me with her creamy, wrinkle-defying skin.  I believe living with S and her easygoing attitude towards life has helped me immensely in letting go and not scrunching up my face over things with which I have no control.  I rarely worry and generally feel happy.  I take Bobby McFerrin at his word!

Happily, there are some things I'm doing right:

• drinking lots of water
• drinking lots of green tea
• not drinking excessive quantities of alcohol
• getting enough sleep
• applying sun protection to my skin when I know I'll be in the sun

My downfall?

• Not enough exercise
• Sedentary lifestyle (push away from the laptop, Mary!)

If anything is contributing to my aging process, I would guess it it's simply not moving enough.  Unlike some others, I don't believe that you have to whip up a drenching sweat at the gym on the cardio machine each day.  I believe that movement, whether walking the dog, running up and down stairs doing laundry, working out in the yard to name a few, will suffice.

Are you moving?  I'm moving, I'm moving!

Nailed

Dragon Mood? -- in pain yet remorseful at my murderous reaction

While trimming a wildly overgrown vine on the side of the house, I attracted the unwanted attention of an immense and apparently ANGRY bumblebee.

Bumblebee

This bee was so aggressive I presumed it was a male, but I learned later it was most likely a female I had threatened or perhaps even disturbed her nest. She was out to GET me! She landed on one gloved hand, I brushed her away and she went right for the other gloved hand. I watched as she landed and immediately felt her stinger in the back of my hand. She actually landed stinger first and stung me through a heavy work glove!  I knocked her down and (I hate to admit it) I stepped on her and killed her.

I kept working but my hand hurt.  I eventually came in, put some Benadryl on it and finished my job.  I stupidly didn't think to try to pull out the stinger (as if I could see one without reading glasses!) and within an hour or so, my hand began to swell and itch.  I did use the old baking soda paste remedy which 'cooled' it a bit, but my hand is still swollen this morning and tender to the touch.

I bet it's been easily twenty years, maybe even twenty-five years since my last bee sting.  I remember as a child my shock that a bee would want to hurt me.  I can't say my feelings have changed over the years.

Sorry, Lady Bee, I didn't mean to disturb your nest, much less destroy you.  I'm feeling bad about that.

Friday night dream #2

Dragon Mood? -- exhilarated

Have you read my first remembered dream of Friday night? I'm still feeling quivery from it, just reading and recalling it.

Here's how my second dream began:

I was feeling lonely and went to visit Caroline [my daughter] - except Caroline was not living in Madison but more like an English hamlet out of a Harry Potter book.

We were in her backyard. It looked a bit cluttered with chairs and a firepit and other nameless things.

I don't remember telling her I was lonely, but she seemed to know that I needed some engagement, some comforting perhaps.

Caroline took what looked like some remnant of a structure, some 2 x 4s and some plywood, nailed together, 'climbed aboard' it and had me climb on too. Then we began to levitate off the ground, me holding tightly to Caroline, because I'm afraid of heights. [Editorial note: these Friday night dreams seem to be preoccupied with my irrational fears and phobias.]

The first few minutes of flying, I was focused on my fear, making sure to keep a firm grasp of Caroline (some might call it a 'death hold'), her strength and her confidence. I barely remember the ride.

When we came back to the ground of her backyard, she hopped off and I began to levitate off the ground myself. The structural remnant was morphing at the same time into something that felt more like a 4 x 4 post or even a pole. At this point, I wasn't feeling fear but exhilaration.

At first, I could bare lift myself off the ground, hovering only inches above. Then I began to get more lift, the ground began to fall away and Caroline began to grow smaller. I tentatively flew in the direction of her English hamlet house, painted a deep yellow, with this curious sponge-like texture. As I got closer, I realized with surprise that her house walls were made of baked cornbread with little flecks of green and red pepper embedded in them. Imagine that!

My confidence grew and I made more turns and flew higher. Yes, I was actually flying! Whoo-hoo!

Now as I looked down, Caroline's yard looked like a square in a patchwork quilt, smaller and just one of many. All the lawn chairs and yard equipment were gone along with Caroline. Where did she go, I wondered?

There was a slight shift in my dream and I was flying lower again. Now there were people standing around in the yards, watching as I flew above them. I had the dawning realization that I was no longer flying with my arms and legs wrapped around a pole, but a broomstick, yes, an honest-to-goodness broomstick! These people must think I'm a witch! I thought to myself.

Flying lower and slower, as I whooshed by them, individuals in the crowd started reaching out to me, many with hankies or tissues in their hands. As I flew by, they moved to hand me the hankie or as to wipe something off of my face. What's on my face? What's on my face?

A man made a swipe at my cheek as I flew by him. What's on my face?

No one said a word, but continued to offer me help.

What's on my face?

End of the dream.

When I woke up, I felt like pushing my obsessive tendencies to the side and allowing the exhilaration of flying to return!

Friday night dream #1

Dragon Mood? -- just read the post and then you'll know

"Plain Jane" and "slightly obsessive" are the phrases I would use to describe my typical dreams. If I told you I had vivid dreams Friday night, would you believe me? Vivid, I tell you. Capitol V - I - V - I - D!

My first dream began like this:

I was in an unknown place, with too many walls, no natural light and full of 90 degree turns. There was a cat in my dream that appeared to be all by itself and very shy of humans, as well. I picked it up once and then set it back down.

More time went by in the dream and I picked the cat up once again. It was a short hair cat and it still had all its claws. The most remarkable thing about it was that its fur was comprised of stripes, tiny colorful stripes, and even more remarkable, there were blue stripes on this cat!

As I was holding the cat, I continued to admire its beautiful coloring. It lay still in my arms. Then it turned its head to look at me and I noticed its head was rather flat for a cat. Did this cat even have ears? I don't recall now. Its head actually had a reptilian quality to it. Then, as the cat turned away from me, I noticed that its head looked more like a snake's head than a cat's.

Dream or no dream, I hate snakes! I immediately put the reptilian cat down and it slunk away. Whew!

End of dream.

My Dragon Mood? -- Label me "totally creeped out"

Thought

Dragon Mood? -- reflecting

Thought for the day from an old spiritual journaling book I find cleaning out a closet entitled "In Good Company" from the Pilgrim Press. As to WHY it was in that closet is another question for another day!

Experience the inherent joy
....... in the uncounted connections
......... the chance meetings
.............. the daily encounters full of delight.