It is Monday, Again

Can you believe it, Monday September 21st?! And, in a couple of days, the first day of Fall. I am ready . . but not. I've been immersed in the medical billing training and creating cards; words and
images, and more;  memories for my daughter's 30th coming in a little over two weeks.

And through it all, my mother appears, voice ringing in my ears, her image popping in and out of my mind's eye. I've been reflecting on the wise words of Rose Kennedy: “It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.”

It is possible to get tired of pumpkin spice marketing. Give it a rest already. 

#Microblog Monday  click the link to check out other MicroBloggers

Round UP

While Sleeping 

1. With daughter's birthday (23 days) coming and this loosely planned series (posted to FB) of micro-celebrations I've been looking at a lot of photos, bringing up a lot of memories, a lot of "feels."  Thus staying on an even keel has been a bit of a challenge. 

2. And staying on an even keel is vital given the medical terminology, medical billing, and ICD-10 CM proficiency lessons and testing. Cleared the first hurdle as far as the proficiency testing. I felt pretty good when I saw my score. I felt like break dancing. I didn't, of course. 

3. School is back in session which means there are students on the buses during my commute. This is not a cheerful happenstance. Students (okay, not all but some) are obnoxious. And loud. (Not all, I said). 

4. Something happened with our daffodils this season. Not just in my yard, but the entire neighborhood, possibly the town. I haven seen many blooms but precious few daffodils. 

5. Pancakes are awesome. French toast even more so. Noting trumps an omelet (esp. Greek) though. 

My Second, My Last, My Everything

Brown Eyes

 

*Counting down to birthday number thirty! 

*micro celebrations over the next month.

#SixWordSaturday

 

September, So Long Summer

Pete's Box 

As we count down the last days of summer I realize that while I marked the calendar with a number of "check this out" events I look back and realize that I have not done any of those things. There were a number of reason over the previous 10 or so weeks but ultimately, I just didn't feel like being out in that way. 

It may be connected to my single status. It may be connected to my meager financial resources. It may be connected to my conscious effort to focus and stay on task. It may be connected to being bone tired by week's end and a little grocery shopping, laundry, and cleaning is about all I can muster. 

It may be all of that and then some. 

While I am not looking forward to what lies beyond the likely, all too brief Autumn I am not particularly all that sorry to see summer fade this year.

Welcome to September.      

#MicroblogMonday

Acetylcholine. Leukocyte. Sphygomomanometer.

Prefixes, suffixes, and roots. Polysyllabic words with origins steeped in Latin or Greek languages. Words are my friends. But these are like friends with whom one hasen't spoken in a very long time; the rhythm is off, the quality . . stilted. 

And then there are triggers.  My mother spent a lot of time with medical providers throughout her life. The last twenty were especially prolific with visits, procedures, diagnoses, and medications. Until finally:  

carcinoma

The next few modules should present less emotionally charged material. I've read through part of The Urinary System and so far, so-so. Onward.   

#MicroBlogMonday53 

Pete, My First

I AM the CAT. 

Sitting. Thinking.

Adding "LOL" doesn't make it funny. 

#SixWordSaturday  

Throwback Thursday

Selfie 

Summer Daze

"Boundless"
by Boyan Marinov 

I like summer. Most days. I am, however getting tired of nearly bare and fully bare feet. FYI. Carry on.  Such was a FB status update a few days ago. A few likes and one comment: yours of others? To which I replied:

The feet of others 

I was on a bus. Tired, unable to distract (or engage) myself otherwise, I looked down and saw all manner of shoe wear displaying all manner of feet. It isn't that I hate feet. I don't. Feet are incredibly useful. I just do not like feet. I mean, they are generally unattractive and I haven't seen one (or a pair) made less so with a sandal or flip-flop. Which, by the way, should be outlawed.

In other news, a co-worker decided it'd be a grand idea if we had a potluck. We have had them before at the office, so not unprecedented. She, relatively new to the office presented it as a "Kum-Bah-Yah" team building opp . . . yada x 3. It's cool. While I do not get overly excited of the idea of diving into the dishes of relative strangers, I am generally game. There are typically enough participants who sign up with chips and (store bought) salsa and national chain chicken shack type offerings to balance things out.

My pasta, whole kernel corn, black and pinto bean, tomato, bell pepper (yellow and orange) red pepper flakes, cumin, chili powder, onion powder, Italian dressing (I choose zesty) and salt to taste salad was a quick, easy, tasty, portable way to go. It has gone before and so, go it went. Again.

Thursday, the day before Potluck day, potluck planner / hostess talked about her designs to go into business selling her famous jerk chicken tacos. It struck me that the potluck (her contribution: jerk chicken tacos) was, in addition to the KUM BAH YAH, a way to present her product toward creating a buzz, and perhaps. finding backers for her venture.

I tried one and, well, let's just say, I'm glad there was my salad, chicken from a national chain, chips and salsa . .

Plus, she wore sandals or flip-flops (which, by the way, should be outlawed) ever single day last week. 

#MicroBlog Monday     Link to the salad basic salad recipe added. I tweak it to my taste by using different tomatos and / or more chili powder. 

Dream Driving

Once we were lovers, but somehow things have changed, now we're just lonely people, trying to forget each other's names.

For many days leading in and for a few after my birthday, I awoke with this song creeping out of the corners of my mind. Birthdays, like New Year's bring about the thoughts, a look through the rear view as well as ahead.

And thoughts often revolve around relationships--past, present, and future--for relationships are life.

All the past relationships, intimate and otherwise, hold some fond memories--more hurt--but some pockets of pleasure, as well. It is the pleasures on which I choose to dwell. There is no present intimate relationship, and to be honest, I don't see such an event on the road ahead. But, just because I don't see it doesn't mean IT isn't out there waiting for me to drive through. I keep the trunk stocked, just in case.

I get along pretty well with my son and daughter. I love them, of course. But, I like them a bunch. And they seem to like me which works out really well. And while it is stress filled having the three of us (plus two cats and a 55 pound dog) under the same roof, everyone is respectful and . . well, humor wins the day--most days. Relationships with other family and friends are continual works in progress. I work to nurture all my relationships. Still, every now and again, even with extreme care, relationships fade. . .

. . . and then there is me, learning to embrace the skin I'm in, to appreciate the square peg-nacity that I bring to the round party, to drive my lane, at my own speed, in my own vehicle--nurturing the relationship with my own true self, for that . . . well, is life.

And sometimes at night I think I hear you calling my name, Mmm, mmm, mmm, these dreams, they keep me going these days*

*These Dreams written by Jim Croce.

#MicroBlogMonday  

Celebrate Good Times, Come On*

 The beginnings of a birthday feast. 

My daughter's gifted me with her talents, her company, wrapped around a baseball game. 

(NYYanks over the ChiSox) and fireworks. 

It was a fun day, a fun and restorative weekend. 

Officially Fifty-Five and feeling pretty good. 

*thank you Kool&TheGang

#MicroBlog Monday  click the link for more MicroBlogs. :-) 

Wealth

My insurance producer license expires in four days. Renewing the license would have meant spending $180.00 plus the cost of a continuing education class (24 hours of course study, 3 of which must be in the classroom ethics). I would have had to be CE compliant up to 10 days prior to the license expiration date. 

I remember being laid off from my job two years ago and making the decision to go into insurance sales. I remember beginning the process; of taking the classes, and studying for the 4 hour exam. I remember being so very proud at having passed and earned the license needed to continue on the chosen path. 

Today I work for a medical billing company. And while the insurance knowledge is not a direct linkage it has helped over going in cold. And now I am getting the opportunity to study and train for the ICD-10 conversion; to become a certified medical biller. After having completed four modules I can state without equivocation, this is going to be a grand challenge. 

But, I'm looking forward to the education for not only will it help secure my present (and future) it will enrich me, I am sure.  All learning does. Onward. 


“Anything that you learn becomes your wealth, a wealth that cannot be taken away from you; whether you learn it in a building called school or in the school of life. To learn something new is a timeless pleasure and a valuable treasure. And not all things that you learn are taught to you, but many things that you learn you realize you have taught yourself.” 
― C. JoyBell C. - Writer

#MicroBlog Monday

Bottled Frustration™

Time is not on my side.

#SixWordSaturday click to see other six word offerings. 

For Some, It Is That Time

My daughter with drink in hand. 

Summertime and the living is easy.*

*for some folks, don't you know.

*for some of the time, for sure?

*credit DuBose Hewaard and 

the Gershwins (George and Ira) 

#Six Word Saturday     

Today

That is all.

#MicroblogMonday

Welcome to Monday

With this shirt, I enter a Monday. 

And away we go. 

#MicroblogMonday

#ProudToLove*

color me amazed by the decision.

#sixwordsaturday

*youtube celebrates marriage equality 

Welcome to Summer

dad and his mom early '60s?

Summer of 1973. By this point my parents had been separated for about five years.. There were the usual battles most of which involved his promising to come get us for an outing and not showing.

Mom covered for him as much as she could. And while losing confidence she never failed to ready us for a "dad" day.

Summer of 1973 I was graduating from elementary school. A big deal under regular circumstances made bigger being as I'd skipped a grade and was at least a full year younger than most of the other graduates.

Tickets were limited and given the track record of the previous five years, mom decided dad wouldn't be invited to the ceremony. Following some heated, some hushed conversations, dad announced that there would be a day of celebration, just the two of us.

All decked out in my green and white maxi dress, white pumps with matching handbag, and pearl necklace with matching earrings, I sat on the sofa, nervous that once again, he wouldn't show. Steeling myself for the disappointment.

But, he did show. We had lunch in a fancy restaurant where he ordered me a drink topped with fruit, stabbed with one of those paper umbrellas. After lunch we went to a play and while I've long forgotten what we saw, I remember having kept the playbill for a long time. After the play we went for ice cream sundaes.

I am not prone to hyperbole, but that day . . . best ever.

That day wound up being one of very few that we would share. That day is the one I held close when we were so far apart. The memory of that day helped lead us to an eventual reconciliation and what prompted the letter I wrote to say, good-bye.

Summer of 1973, the standard bearer for all subsequent summers.

Thank you, dad.

#MicroblogMonday

Better, but SO Much Room for Improvement

Same shit on a different day. 

#SixWordSaturday

Welcome to Wednesday* CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA

All the words in the world won't stem the pain, won't wipe the tears, won't erode the knots growing beneath my skin.