Little Bits: A new bookkeeping client hails originally from South Africa and although it’s been many moons that she’s been in the States, she retains a bit of her beautiful accent. During one of our first meetings, she used the phrase “little bits” and it sounded so charming that I’ve been wanting to use it myself. So, here you are, “little bits” of my week, and quite possibly not at all what you were expecting.
Promises, Promises: What you were expecting was likely something along the lines of “signs of addiction” as I had promised last week. I had planned to use this list and intersperse it with my own experience, however, the week has been draining, and I still have a kitchen to clean and the remaining episodes of the last season of “Sons of Anarchy” to watch before I go to bed, wake up and jump into a 55 hour week, while my children are visiting for my nephew’s 8th grade graduation, which I will not attend, because I am working 55 hours in four days, which means I most likely will not see my children nor they me while they are here. Also, I stopped taking my vitamins a few days ago, thinking of course that there’s really no evidence that they are making a difference in my health, yet I am definitely noticing that while not taking them I sink ever deeper into lethargy and exhaustion. Prince Charming came home tonight quite willing to go to our local haunt for dinner after taking a nap, but I couldn’t be bothered to put on a bra and get dressed so I let him sleep and made myself homemade junk food (sweet potato fries anyone?), while continuing my SOA marathon. Will I ever get out of this rut?
The Complaint Department: Apparently, I’m in the mood to complain and one of the things I want to complain about is the keyboard on my laptop. Love the laptop; hate the keyboard. My resistance to this keyboard is but one of the many excuses why I have not been writing more regularly. It drops letters so that I have to retype the same word seven times, and it occasionally spazzes out and deletes entire pages or paragraphs which I then have to recreate which is a shame because the original draft was brilliant and the rewrite sometimes not so much. Also my fingers apparently trigger the “mouse pad” when I least expect it and my cursor will end up in the middle of nowhere, which is also I suspect one of the reasons the keyboard spazzes out unexpectedly. I also hate the new look of the WP post drafting area, so have migrated over to Word, which is also not my favorite software – having “grown up on” WordPerfect — but Word has taken over the world apparently so one must use what is available. Finally, having been recently promoted to Communications Training Officer – a wonderful opportunity actually – I no longer have the free time to write at work, not that I was doing that much writing at work you understand, but it is another convenient excuse.
Our Disney Roots Extend Deeper Than I Thought: I’ve been thinking lately that I need to start interviewing Mom while I’m there on Monday nights, getting deeper into family background and history while we still have the resource of her memories available to us. I haven’t asked her about it yet, but this past Monday she spontaneously told a delightful story from her youth: The 60th Anniversary of Disneyland commercial was showing, and she remarked that her first trip to Disneyland was with Dad while they were still dating. (Which reminded me that my first trip to Disneyland was while Prince Charming and I were still dating.) Dad was in the Marine Corps reserves and was down at Camp Pendleton. He called her one night and suggested that she should fly down there, they’d go to Disneyland and then drive back home to San Francisco together. She was 19 years old. When she got off the phone and told her (very conservative Irish Catholic) mother about the invitation, her mother said, “That sounds like a fine idea. We’ll go together.” Thus, with no further discussion, even though Mom was technically an “adult” she and Dad were chaperoned for the entire Disneyland visit. When I relayed that story to Prince Charming, he said he had never heard it before. I’m sure she’s full of such stories; I hope I get to hear more of them.
Really I Have Nothing to Complain About: As Tree would say, my complaints about keyboards and vitamins and work are “first world problems” which I am lucky to have. I know that, and I try to take a moment or two every day to acknowledge my good fortune and give thanks. Tonight’s moment was during the sunset, listening to the sound of the ocean, freezing in the wind, while drinking a vodka/cranberita/ginger ale concoction that I made up.
Life is good.