And Just Like That (Again)

 

An entire season gone and no posts.  

Wow.  

That certainly was not the plan, but here we are.  

And to be frank, this isn't a post inasmuch as it is a, "hey, I'm still here" notice.  

So, I'm here.  

Still sketching (though, there too, lapses. Oy) 

Still haven't cut my hair though I do think it is thinning some. Que sera sera.  

Still working the 9 to 5 (remotely--thank goodness!!!) 

Still trying to . . . (oh, so much).  

Until next time (before the end of the season, is the plan) be kind, be present, and 

take extremely gentle care.  

This world.  

Wow.  

Christmas Just Ain't Christmas

 

This was going to be about Christmas. But now, Christmas 2021 is but a distant memory except to say I didn't have the kind of experience that many others seem to have had; mine was precisely as envisioned, as designed. The holiday had been scaled back a wee bit, year-by-year since my mother died in February of 2013. Well, truth be told, Christmas 2012 was pretty basic since my dad had died that previous September and by December, my mom was pretty sick with (what I didn't know then) was lung cancer.

The non-traveling, cocooning type of existence plays into my personality type. Granted, my daughter would rather have more people around but for me, for now, she and my son are plenty of company and plenty of energy.  

Which brings me to what brings me here today, on the second day of the new year; the year in review: 

I still have not cut my hair.  I still don't know what to do with it beyond washing, conditioning and braiding--but then, maybe that IS what is to be done with it.  

I'm still sketching. My daily practice has turned into a more every other or every few days practice; but I'm still creating and expanding skills.  

I do still have health and weight loss goals to achieve; these have been sort of rinse and repeat kind of endeavors but think I have settled on a different approach for the coming days, weeks, months, this year toward achieving different (more favorable) results. I shall keep you posted.  

My workplace is experiencing some transitions. I will continue to work remotely and I hope that the coming changes will ultimately equal success for myself as well as the company at large.  

My son, daughter, and I are still healthy; that is to say we have managed to avoid any positive Covid tests.  As they are out and about frequently (mostly for work) they test frequently.  All of us have had vaccines and boosters (mine is scheduled for next week). I've been hearing across with internet wires that folks believe that at some point, "we're all going to get it."  I hope that isn't the case. 

Two days in, I've managed to achieve each of my daily practices.  May this continue for the next . . .  three hundred and sixty-three.  Well, maybe the next five, at least.  

There is other news from this year; some even from last month but I'll save those stories for another time. Which is to say, I expect to come back here again and again and again. 

Dear Bloggers, please take gentle care.  Be safe, stay safe in as much as is possible to do so.  

Merry Christmas.  

Happy New Year. 

Cheers to 2022.  

Almost Gone (the month, the year, aaarrgh)

The title of this post has changed more frequently than my hair... well, to be fair, my hair hasn't changed all that much in recent weeks.  Yes, I'm still growing it (or allowing it to grow) and do what it does.  Every few days I take it down and twist it back up.  Since I'm going going anywhere I don't concern myself with styling it.  I just want the braids to be relatively neat and tidy. 

I am reminded though why it is I cut the hair off and kept it off oh those many years ago. 

Styling.  What.  A. Pain.  

However, less so since I will (whenever I do "fix" it to meet people) no longer concern myself with hot combs, curlers, and tools of that ilk.  I imagine one day my fingers won't be nimble enough to braid but that day isn't today.  

Let's catch up: My daughter is working at what must be her 400th nursing / assisted care facility since the beginning of the pandemic.  I exaggerate of course, but jeez louise, she changes jobs...a lot.   On the plus, she seems to "win" at interviewing.  Hopefully this place will be the right sauce. At least until 12/31/21.  I feel like me having said anything at all has jinxed it...Fingers crossed, it didn't. 

My son's industry is creeping back to life.  Auditions have begun but instead of going into a casting office; actors are asked to email a self-tape.  So, actors are having to learn how to record the auditions "sides" and send that in to the casting agent / director.  There are guidelines toward producing a good or acceptable tape as well as well as an industry / service toward actors finding scene partners. According to my son, a lot of his peers are struggling with this pivot.  

The actor (he is now officially, "the creative" ) is writing, expanding his music performance tool kit and making ends meet by busking around the city. He was even able to snare a few bona-fide music gigs over this past year.   Oh, and teaching.  He led a MasterClass for first and second year theater students at is alma mater recently.  There are two or three more sessions planned over the coming semester.  He came away with mixed reviews after the first session.  He liked the students but was unimpressed with the professor. (One of HIS former professors--awkward) LOL 

Anyhoo...we're all just plodding along, putting one foot in front of the other, keeping our distance, wearing our masks, and staying safe.  

PS: I no longer care WHO hosts "Jeopardy"!  (Not that I ever really did, but now...ugh--way to ruin it people!  Way. To. Go.)

Take very gentle care, gentle people.    

Calling All

Look This Way 

Rules dictate that I can't share names or any other information about the clients I work with or (and especially) the patients.  But, I want to talk about one patient, well, actually a series of patients who called on what was, "a normal" Wednesday afternoon.  

The patients who reach out to me (the company) call to talk about a bill they've received for we are, after-all, a medical billing company. Aside from those callers who are offering credit/debit card information to pay their bill, are those who have some sort of dispute, need some clarification, need to offer some additional insurance detail, or  just want to vent.  

The normal Wednesday was full of venters.  

The first venter didn't remember the doctor named on the bill she's holding in her hand.  The treatment given during a recent hospital admission.  This statement is a common vent.  Often, when one is hospitalized an army of practitioners may storm through a room. Patients are generally not in a position to take note or notes of who is who or even why. So, when they receive a pile of bills some weeks later, they are (often) perplexed.  This venter was less than satisfied with the information I provided. Very often the venter isn't looking to understand (or to be understood). They typically just want to be heard.  She eventually ran out of steam and hung up.  

The second venter couldn't understand why she's receiving a bill 2 years beyond the treatment date. I tried to explain that the bill in her hand wasn't the first one mailed; that I couldn't explain why  none of the others found her, but tried to assure her others had been mailed even giving her those previous statement dates. She was convinced that we were trying to scam her, that someone had co-opted her identity and is trying to take her $17.82. She hung up with an air of satisfaction that she'd bested me (us) in our attempt to extort her money.  

The final venter didn't know the practitioner, didn't remember the treatment, didn't understand why she's receiving a bill, ("I have insurance!!!") didn't trust me (the company), didn't have any money to pay any, damn bill, didn't appreciate that we were harassing her. This venter opted to use her outside voice during most of her vent.  She was a big fan of punctuating her sentences with some profanity. 

I have clearance to hang up on this type of venter.  However, I rarely hang up on them. I will either stay quiet until they run out of steam or ask them to please stop shouting and certainly stop with the profanity.  I assure them that I will do what I can to assist but will not engage. I will not match them shout for shout.  

I understand the measure of frustration these patients feel.  I understand that many feel powerless and overwhelmed and need to vent.  I admit, some days I have less patience for the venters even if I do understand the frustration that drives them to the phone. Still, I hang on and try to do what I can to help them (and of course, collect their payment or promise to pay).   

The final venter did stop shouting and did edit the profanity however we didn't get any closer to her accepting the current reality. 

She will likely pay her bill. . . eventually.  

Or not.  

She may even call again. 

Maybe even on a Wednesday. 

On the upside, since I work from home now, I can log off, take a walk, pet the dog, have a tall drink of water (or juice, or make a smoothie), or primal scream it out.   

And then, get back at it.  

  

 

Hold On

 

Part of my work entails making calls to insurance companies.  More often than not, hold times are part of the equation.  Astronomical hold times.  Because of that factor I usually make calls when there are other tasks that may be accomplished while on hold; updating notes in charts, faxing claims,  entering new claim charges, or posting payments.  

Now and again, I'm caught up on other tasks and hold times are spent pondering. 

For instance: 

This pandemic: how much longer? What shall be the short and long-term impact to our cities, states, the country? 

The election: can we trust the process? Will BLUE make a valiant effort and still come up short? What then? If BLUE wins may we expect RED to react horribly? 

Civil War - the Sequel? 

Sometimes the pondering is a little less intense. 

For instance: 

Are there enough leftovers for a decent lunch (or dinner)? 

Is my body beginning to reject dairy? 

What shall I do about Inktober? 

Some drama popped off in a FB Inktober group due to allegations of copyright infringement and plagiarism.  I am sure I've solved the dilemma that caused my unease.  Still, the events, commentary have left a sour note. 

Will live theater return? If so, when? What will that look like? If not, what then? 

How much longer will I be on hold and what the heck is the music? 

Welcome to September. Heck, in a minute it'll be October.  O C T O B E R!! The tenth month! 

WOW 

 

 

  

And the Winner Is

Some weeks ago I made an off-hand suggestion that daughter and I attend the 3rd annual Mac and Cheese Fest as it had been some time since we'd had one of our mother-daughter (good friends) outings. The $65.00 per ticket price knocked the possibility out of contention. And then, a couple of weeks ago, daughter mentions, not so off-handedly that her employer was going to participate in the festival, that we could get a deep discount on the tickets, and asked if I (still) wanted to go. For The Win. 

 We, along with hundreds of other visitors tasted offerings from caterers, restaurants, culinary institutes, and the like. We were asked for vote for our favorite/s. After the votes were tallied, the winner: Autumn Asiago Mac and Cheese (as pictured above) was announced.


.                                                 
Chef Lex (in the white coat, here with her wife, Lindsey) and the team took the first runner up trophy from 2015. And this year, For. The. Win. bringing home the coveted Golden Noodle. Yay Team. 

My daughter's words: It's funny how life works out. I had a job offer to leave Chicago and then I got the offer from Amazing Edibles and after being with them from Late spring I grew with them, and I didn't just like my job I loved my job. And making decisions is apart of life but this choice to stay and working with Amazing Edibles has been hands down my best choice since deciding to pursue culinary. I wish everyone could have a supportive, knowledgeable, loving, caring work environment. I'm so happy they chose me and I chose them back! Thank you ladies for always dealing with this silly Dani even at 6am!

Congratulations to an incredible team who contribute to make Amazing Edibles amazing.  FTW.

More Monday! 

  

It's Official!

My "little girl" as my mother would say, is leaving. 

After deciding on culinary arts as a career, a year of school, 

and a nother couple of years of trying on a number of hats 

in and around Chicago, 

she has applied for, and has been accepted entry to a 

work / study program that will take her to resorts in Colorado 

and then, Wyoming. 

For the next two years. 

She will report to the Colorado location by November 7th. She will be there five months. 

She will have 30 days before she has to report to the Wyoming location, a moth home
and then back to Colorado.  . 

Except for a brief stint during her teen years 

and small vacations, my daughter has not ever 

been away from home.  

WE are excited (and nervous) in equal measure.
No, more excited than nervous. 

Danielle has prepared for the opportunity 

and is ready for this challenge. She is ready to 

take the wheel and steer the course of her career
and her life.    

I am sad at the prospect of her leaving. I am happy

she is getting to earn while she learns at not one, but two resort properties. 

I am proud that she's developed the confidence to 

take this leap. 

We have three months to drink it all in. 

Cheers! 

Congratulations to my only daughter!

click image for more

June: Not Too Soon

 The first full weekend of June has come and gone without much fanfare. The weather was mostly agreeable, some chore were done, some Melody time was had, some rest was achieved  . What didn't occur this first weekend in June was the journey to Chicago's famed Hyde Park neighborhood for the world famous 57th Street Art Fair. 

bygone days sketchbook

I look forward to this fair every year. I had the calendar marked, I had an alert set.  I love the event for the location, the eclectic and charged atmosphere, the fact that it is early enough in the season where it isn't too hot so the walking is mostly agreeable.In many ways it is the event of the season.  

Yet, I didn't go. Despite the excitement over the idea, even as I had a pang of nostalgia for a visit two years ago and I discovered she didn't have work, even as art fairs is one of a few venues I don't mind attending alone, I didn't go.

And for the first time in quite some time, I didn't beat myself up for missing an event that I had planned (even if loosely) to attend.  I wake up this Monday morning feeling satisfied over the amount of chores completed and the balance of fun and relaxation achieved this weekend.

The season has just begun and there are many fairs on the horizon. Some I will make. Some, I won't.

And it shall be fine. There is always a plan B (or C, D, etc. ) I must continue to embrace the moment, listen to my body, and take special care.

Happy Monday All.

#MicroBlog Monday   click the link for more.

Early Morning Ruse

Pete on alert. 

It is 4:12 AM and I am awakened by the rumblings of Pete and his co-conspirator, Buttah. It is too early to get up (for good) and too late to go back to any kind of serious sleep.

Though, blaming the awakening on the cats and by proxy, the pooch who is on instant alert and all too ready to rumble, is a bit unfair. It is really the fullness of a bladder that shakes a body from slumber


Point is, the too early wake-up call is frustrating enough on the weekends where a return to bed until at least an hour past sunrise is in play. The 4:12 AM rousing is beyond frustrating for weekday mornings where rise-and-shine time is no later than 5:30 AM; I am out the door within two hours of rising, and at my desk ready to work within another two hours.

So with all due respect to the forces that are Pete, Buttah, Cinnamon and the offending bladder, the mind and other body parts would appreciate a togetherness of spirit toward saving all antics until, oh, I don't know, 4:45 AM.

That wouldn't be great but it would be very much better.

#microblogging monday

Nothing and Not Quite Everything

#MicroblogMondays

First and foremost, happy Spring, officially. The weather has been un-Spring like of late, but hey, on the calendar IT IS SPRING and hope is alive that warmer weather will follow.

In that vein and in no particular order, thoughts, events, and ideas that have sprung in recent days:

1. The actor booked an episode of Chicago Fire and it aired last Tuesday. The episode titled, "Forgiving, Relentless, Unconditional" is available on-line. He comes on-screen at about the 37 minute mark.

2. It is very weird seeing your kid now a man, on television. I thought seeing him on stage was weird (exhilarating, but weird) screen is that multiplied by thousands. More, even.

3. Mom's oldest sibling celebrated her 95th birthday a few weeks ago. I have a couple of cousins who are struggling to make it to sixty, by way of contrast.

4. The Starbucks© #RaceTogether campaign  . Stumble out the gate, looking forward to next steps.

5.. THIS: My life is a struggle of constantly wanting to go out and have fun with people and also simultaneously trying to avoid human contact.

6. It has been mentioned here before and you may read it again, and again, I LOVE potato chips. Well, potatoes in most any form, but chips--on me, oh my.. That said, I haven't had any potato chips in over six weeks. (Yes, I relapsed went on a bender). The loss was re-gained and now, on the way back down, again.

7. Saturday (over Sunday) was more conducive to riding and so I did. Not crazy fast (that isn't ever going to happen) or crazy far (only about 5 miles round trip) but good to be out, good to not have collapsed upon return.

8. Discipline: per Merriam-Webster.com  5b: orderly or prescribed conduct or pattern of behavior.

9. Song lyric: would you mind, if I made love to you 'till I'm satisfied?.  haunting and halting. Stop.

10. Speaking of lyrics: Happy Really:? Clap along if you feel like a room without a roof. Really?

10a. Was the last film I saw in a theater August: Osage County?

And today: <>bSNOW

And So It Has Begun

MicroBlog Monday 

Nothing says "Happy New Year" like cuddling up with your long haired orange tabby and having said tabby sneeze in your face. Wiping cat snot off one's glasses at 4 in the morning is the pinnacle of woo-hoo, let me tell ya.  

Or, in other words, business (and beginnings of days) as usual. Buttah, the catdog, is ramping up his campaign to be top pet. That, and the colder weather drives him (and his elusive brother, Pete) in my room more often these days, causing the pooch's anxiety level to rise. 

The day proceeded apace with the usual things happening at pretty much the usual time for Friday was a workday; the shift filled with explaining to various patients why they owe what they owe, what their insurance didn't cover and in some cases, why. And, talking with insurance companies to follow-up on non-payments, providing the necessary information so they claims may be reconsidered. And reconciling accounts, applying credits to debits and sending out statements. 

And then, it was time to come home where the pooch, long-haired orange tabby and is ever elusive brother wait to be tended. 

Playing behind the scenes of the business as usual days are the other things; books to read, things to do, stuff to get, music (ear worms, like the themes to TV shows, I'll spare you which) 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and 4th quarter goals and / or projects and words, and images. Words and images. Words and images, popping in and out of my mind. 

And speaking of words, inspired by my friend, I present to you my word of the year: c-r-e-a-t-e, manifested artistically and otherwise. The otherwise will likely revolve around the pooch, the long haired orange tabby, catdog and his ever elusive brother, Pete. 

Two and a Half

MicroBlogMonday

As I remain challenged to stitch together much in the way of coherence please indulge a thimble full of random thoughts:  

1. The work (of more import, commute) week is shortened by two and a half days.To that I scream a resounding YaY!!  Well, the commutes will still be three full days as I must return even after the half day of work. But, still . . yay.

2. You shall be pleased to read that after much hand wringing and hair pulling, I have finally decided my contribution to the eve breakfast potluck: deviled eggs.

3. A joyous noise moment: the company holiday party won't happen until the ninth of January. It shall be a casual, family affair. In a bowling alley. To that I scream a resounding YaY!!!

4. The pooch (don't worry, she has since had her face done, eyes no longer hiding behind all that fur) and the catdog, Buttah continue to  navigate a, "I'm the favorite" course.  Neither need not worry. Plenty of love for them both (as well as for the more aloof, Pete.)

5. A condolence card arrived the other day which confounded
and astounded in equal measure. Quite moved by the outpouring of kindness expressed therein.

6. Birds are a common theme in greeting cards. Birds are a common holiday theme. My comfort threshold with birds is low. Not so low that I'm overly quacked out by images alone. But should I come face to face with a gaggle of geese, a covey of partridges,  a murder of crows, and so on . . way quacked out. Still, I shall be looking for every and all opportunities to shrink the bird themed greeting card collection currently in my possession.    

Just To See Her

Remember where I was a year ago? I do, not just because I can go back and read but also because it feels like yesterday. I think because I'm in pretty much the same place, the same pain, the same state, the same . . .
Oh sure, I was taking a leap into a new opportunity and at that moment the idea of it made me feel vital. But a few months later the realization that I was trying to turn a sows ear into a silk purse settled out my body, wearing on me like kudzu.

So, I set out to clear the vines. I had to find a new job. After being sick most of December, I got busy smack dab in the midst of the worst winter ever to look and look and look. And I found one. Now, four months into that opportunity I am feeling a sense of relief. Most of my duties are familiar but there is some new information to digest and skills to acquire.

There has had to be work behind the scenes to shrink expenses, renegotiate the mortgage, get down to small ball, re-think, re-imagine the newest normal. Not all of the pieces are in place, but they are getting there. And she is still my guide.

However, like last year my birthday is not cause for raucous fanfare. I will be at work. The student will be at school. The actor will be engrossed in the next project. And that is okay. Maybe there will be a brunch on Saturday or Sunday.

Otherwise, I work, maintain, endeavor to have home projects, art projects, mind and body PROjects.occupy. Those things and the folly that is the 45 pound pooch and the two (especially the orange one) cats  will keep me rolling along.

  .  
 Officially fifty-four.

Let's See, Where Were We?

In the midst of studying, prospecting, marketing, and growing  a ton of other things have happened and / or passed over my field of vision. The picnic actually happened before the new career opportunity and I've planted my behind in the chair to write about it . . . but haven't been able quite articulate my still quite ambivalent feelings.

I will say this: at least one cousin wore a "a family that prays together stays together" tee shirt. It was quite the pleasant surprise to see my Aunt Ann and my cousin Carolyn. And it was quite disappointing that the in memoriam segment didn't occur. And even though I was ambivalent about that as well, I did bring the photo as requested. The photo I brought (and others beyond) were given to younger brother.

The above aside, I'm struck in a variety of ways by a variety of events and thoughts in the past several days since our last gathering. And they are, in no particular order:

A. Daughter, who weeks ago re-connected with her father (he had a stroke several years ago and after bumping around from one family member to another, from one state to another, landed in a rehabilitation / nursing facility in Greenwood, MS) went to visit him (and the arm of his / her family in Mississippi) this weekend past. The visit was good in one regard, not so much in another. Still processing.

B. Pepsi flavored Cheetos are apparently all the rage in Japan.  To which I say, EWWW

C. I'm battling a cold. I no longer feverish, but still not tip-top. A friend is also battling and wrote quite an eloquent post relative to the subject. I don't have her brand of being held in mom's bosom (so to speak) during childhood sickness, ours was quite the different household and dynamics---but there were some instances of receiving mom's full, un-divided attention. The memories of those instances are sweet.

D. Due to being sick, and the busyness of work related activities I'm a bit behind on the news and so only recently caught wind of the MONTANA COURT  ruling. I'm quite incensed over the entire episode and culture.

E. And speaking of being incensed....Syria...really? REALLY??? I get the sense that nations are channeling Tina.  Further, I get a sense of dread. ::sigh::

F. And speaking of dread---really Auntie Flo?? REALLY!!!!!!??? I am fifty fracking three!!!  I know, I know, many have gone well beyond that number. But, "shit, fuck, piss!!" as another friend often retorts ENOUGH already.  

G. I know I'm not one to speak, but I miss bloggers. I miss the community. I miss my friends. Oh sure, some (most, in fact) hang out on FB but it is simply not the same. No promises or declarations but I'm striving to be more active with this platform. I still have those sketches  to finish, I even bought a new sketch book, so as I say, no promises. But, well, yeah. . .

H. My former boss has continued to call and email. I must continue to ignore him. I cannot afford to be pulled back into his sort of . . . miasma.

I. Did you know later this month marks a year since Cinnamon came into our world?   On the flip side, the 6th will mark the first anniversary of my dad's death  and the twelfth, D-dog's passing.  All quite  heavily on my mind, heart.

J. And while there is much, much more that has gone on and IS going on I'll end here, except to add that the other night I had a dream. I'm struck (again) by remembering even the part I remember for, if you recall, I don't usually remember my dreams and if I do, only snippets filter to the surface. This snippet: I was walking down a street, dressed in my professional business black slacks and black jacket. An older man, he reminded me of an actor whose name and pedigree has alluded me, but think: a cross between Burt Young and Richard Farnsworth started following me eventually asking if I had a couple bucks so he could get something to eat. I then, against ALL my city wits and conventional wisdom, stopped to pull my wallet from my bag, opened it with the plan to peel off a couple of buck . . .    The older man took my wallet. I screamed. He turned and half ran, half limped away. I continued to scream but got myself together enough to chase (I mean he WAS half running and MOSTLY limping ) him intending to . . . not quite tackle him, but certainly, get my shit back.  Except, I couldn't catch him. WTF??  It was like some weird super slo-mo, non action . . . something. I was thrashing about in bead, screaming in my head, running the litany of what was in the wallet, the hassle of replacing stuff and the like. I woke with a monstrous headache and a sense of extreme dread . . . crying because it felt so real then I snapped to. . it was just. a. dream. 

And now, having said that, I can't end it there. I am going to end this episode with: WAY TO GO DIANA!!!

She said:
One: We should never give up.
Two: You're never too old to chase your dream
Three: It looks like a solitary sport, but it is a team.   (Swimming & life--I'm deciding).


See you in a few.

 

No Turning Back

So much information; names, faces, places, terms, facts, figures. . .
d-e-t-a-i-l-s! There is so much (more) reading to do, so much (more) ground to cover. So much (more) work.

Yes, I feel like my head it about to explode.

The first week of training has been exhausting yet exhilarating.

All the new associates were assigned to veteran district coordinators. The team I was assigned to has three others beside myself. One of the three, a young woman, younger than my daughter, is struggling with her decision. She's discouraged, very much, after week one. I hope she returns. I'm trying to encourage her, but she's working with some particularly negative family (and friends) mojo.

Plus, half of the folks who started with us Friday, the ninth of August, have already quit.

But, as our trainer (and Jerry Butler said, "Only The Strong Survive".  Knowing what I've learned of her life (to date) I think she is strong.

This past week has reminded me of  a sort of mantra I read (and noted in a journal) months ago: Work hard. Do Good. Be incredible.

Beyond that, one day, one step at a time, full steam ahead.

Officially Fifty-Three

A few things have happened since we were last together; my final (physical) day at work, the family picnic, having no place to go that next Monday morning, my fifty-third birthday, fear, and moving past that . . .

Much like my last (physical) day with my former employer, my fifty-third birthday passed without much in the way of fanfare. There was the FB acknowledgements which were received with gratitude, a couple of greeting cards, phone calls, and hugs from those near and dear. And again, received with gratitude. But otherwise the day (and several preceding) was spent in my room studying manuals toward clearing two hurdles (tests), a gateway to an opportunity, the next chapter(s) of my life. 

Said opportunity was presented to me (and others) at the company's Open House--to which I was invited via email--in response to one of my posted r&#233sum&#233s. At the end of the presentation I opted not to move forward, deciding that said opportunity, "wasn't a good fit."  

That, "not a good fit" haunted me over the next several days. And I got mad.  

Nearly a week later there is an identical invitation to an identical Open House. After advising the recruiter that I'd been the the Open House just the week before and relaying what I relayed at that time, I asked to be considered for the next step--a face-to-face--to further discuss the job, the expectations, the compensation algorithm, and . . . well, me. 

The recruiter agreed to see me and the first two questions she asked were, "why did you feel you weren't and good fit and what has changed your mind"? 

Long story short, I explained about the fear that overtook me and then the anger that welled up until IT beat the fear down. We had a nice conversation after which she asked me to take the weekend, think it over, be sure . . . 

Well, the week before my fifty-third birthday I decided to take a leap, accept the opportunity which meant signing up for two classes, which would lead to my taking the two tests. The materials were received and studying ensued.  

And on the day after my fifty-third birthday I took and passed the tests.  

A week from now, I'll be moving forward to the next chapter, inspired by my mother who, against many odds, beating down her own fears, reached a measure of success in a number of endeavors, given a variety of limitations and hurdles. She worked very hard to provide for my brothers and me.  She was very proud of her accomplishments. And I was very proud of her. 

I'm taking all of that, her pride, her strength, her, "wanting the very best for me" attitude with me next week and beyond. 

But first, cake. 

No Title On Purpose

Pete: Why are you such a suck-up? 

Buttah: Don't hate me because I'm beautiful!  

1.  In other news: my aunt is recovering, albeit slowly, from her stroke. 

2.  My brothers and I are still endeavoring to stay in touch. Granted, we don't have much to say to one another, but we do make the effort even if it is just to say, "hey". 

3.  Vet visit fail: the dog, it turns out, isn't spayed. She's in heat. She will be spayed as soon as possible after her cycle.   

4. I'm not surprised by the hatred spewed over this ad but it angers me none-the-less. Post racial, my ass. That said, the response from the company: Right. On. 

5. The week ahead is going to be a bear, quite possibly unbearable. 

Donning armor. Welcome, June.