My Big Debut

I don’t know why she did it, but for some strange reason my sister volunteered *me* to speak at an an African-American Southern Baptist church. I’m not a speaker. I tend to stutter and talk very fast in front of groups of people. I don’t have a clue what they wanted me to speak about. But if my sister had this much confidence in me, I was going to do it. I got busy and wrote a mediocre speech. All I had to do was print it and rehearse it a couple of times.

My plan was to wait until Sunday morning to shop for an outfit, but I had in mind what I wanted to wear. I was going to buy a real pretty dress and find one of those big fancy hats to wear. I wanted to fit in and look like the folks I was going to address, even if I did have another skin color.

I headed off to Indy, wearing a loud floral matched pantsuit. I wore it all day Friday and then again on Saturday. I looked really skinny in it for some reason—like it had removed about 60 pounds from my frame. Sunday, I headed off to the mall to find that perfect outfit. Much to my chagrin, none of the stores were open at 8am on a Sunday morning. I went from store to store and kept finding great outfits and hats on display in the windows, but none of the stores were opening until noon.

I finally gave up and decided I had to wear my pantsuit for the third day in a row, and I hoped no one in the congregation would notice that it was beginning to stiffen up from the constant wear. But the really weird thing was, the slacks somehow turned into a skirt. Still, I didn’t look too bad considering my bare legs that I hadn’t shaved in weeks. But then I remembered I needed to put on makeup. Trouble with that was, I suddenly was sitting in a wheelchair and wasn’t capable of putting on my own makeup. Someone wheeled me to a table set up in the mall, and some kind girls were powdering my face and applying blush.

More interruptions…I had to find a place to hook up my laptop and print my speech. I found myself being pulled from place to place and not getting anything accomplished. And it was getting close to the time of the service.

I got out of the wheelchair and walked around a wall. On the other side, there stood my dad! I nearly passed out from the shock since Dad died over 18 years ago. Then I ran over and hugged him. He told me he hadn’t died 18 years ago, but was lost in Iraq for all that time. He looked so healthy and hadn’t aged one little bit, which only seemed a little strange. I was still mulling over how I could remember being with him when he died, but yet he didn’t die. And what was he doing in Iraq in the first place? He worked at Sears!

Still being dragged all over the mall, I gave up on printing my speech and decided to ad lib it. I would talk about my crazy preparation I was still going through. I would finish up the speech by talking about how there’s a lesson in everything and how even good things come from bad things. I was going to wow them, for sure. All I had to do was to keep my ideas in some sort of order and not start talking a mile a minute. So with half my makeup on, a dirty floral suit, and bare legs, I found myself in a beautiful large church. One of the church leaders met me and was walking me up the stairs to the stage. I was about to inspire a thousand African-American Baptists. They were going to love me—I just knew it!

Then I woke up. What a weird dream.

What Has This Got to do with Work???

I try...I really try to NOT listen to all the BS around me. I have noise-canceling headphones, but there are days that I really don't feel like listening to music or white noise while I'm working. Just today, here are just a few of the less-than-intelligent comments I heard from next door...

"Your hair looks cute!"

"It was all wobble-jello and bouncy."

"I'm leaving early today." (So what else is new?)

To top it off, I heard all about her labor of 32 years ago when she was telling a male co-worker all the gory details. He said it was because of the way she was built...you know...small hips.

Why does every workplace have one or more of these useless employees? Beats me, but they all do. Once in awhile, I could put up with this, but this talk goes on all day long, every day. I'd find another job, but it would just be the same thing.

Tired of complaining...it's time to go get a Margarita and forget the Doublemint Twins for awhile.

For Once in my Life

She had just addressed and stamped the letter, and it would be headed to Muncie the next day. The phone rang as she walked past. It was the mom of her best friend telling her that their friend Mona was in the hospital and might not make it. It didn't make sense. The letter she just finished was written to Mona...how could she be in the hospital fighting for her life?

Bonnie said that Mona had spinal meningitis. She had complained of illness, a headache, and pain in her neck, so she didn't go to class. Her roommates came home to find her unconcious. She was on a respirator and in a coma. The letter never got mailed.

38+ years later, Mona steered her motorized wheelchair down the aisle of a small chapel. The aisle was strewn with pink rose petals. Once she reached the groom, also in a wheelchair, a very scratchy and slow rendition of "For Once in my Life" came out of the sound system. The groom asked, "Is that you singing?". She said it wasn't, but then the familiar lyrics kicked in. She said, "Oh my God! It is!".

The tears had already begun for the three "girls" standing up for her. Then Mona joined them. She buried her face into the back of her little dog, who was poised on a pillow on Mona's lap. We all cried for the three minutes it took for the song to play.

The wedding ended in a few minutes. Then it was time for congratulations, hugs, and lots more tears.

Two of those four girls have lived fairly normal lives in the past 38 years. One girl was handicapped at age 18, and the other was a widow at age 19, left to raise a six-month-old baby boy. For one reason or another, those four girls hadn't seen each other in many, many years.

I wished I had kept that letter. I would've given it to the bride last Monday when we went to her wedding and stood up for her.

Why?

One teenage boy is in a hospital tonight getting radiation for a brain stem glioma in hopes of adding a little time to his short life. Another teenage boy is hell-bent on destroying his life when he has it all and just can't see it. God, please put peace in both boys' hearts. Help one boy sleep tonight and help the other one wake up before it's too late.

Men...

I heard the other day that our new contract with the new company might not start until March 1st. That would mean from February 17th when the old contract ends until the 1st, we'd all be off work--with NO pay. That would be fine with me. A few days off would be nice. But it would suck for those whose money runs tight.

I emailed my husband and told him the rumor, and that I might have a week or so off. He emailed back and said that if that happened maybe he might come home to a clean house, a hot meal, and a smiling face. I emailed back, "Does this mean I can hire a maid, a cook, and a prostitute?"

His buddy said that a good woman would be all three.

...men...

What Just Happened???

Today was my RDO--that's "Regular Day Off". I work nine hour days, Monday through Thursday, then one eight hour Friday and one Friday off. I was really enjoying my RDO--until my work buddy called me up to tell me "the contract was awarded". I knew our portion of this huge contract was up for a re-compete.

But my buddy told me that our company was no awarded the contract. Ironically, the company that my current company won this contract away from was awarded the IT contract. That means in mid-February I will no longer be employed by one company, but will hopefully be picked up by the new company.

Funny how all these hard-working (well, not ALL are hard-working) folks that manage to score perfect ratings from their customer for several years in a row are just kind of tossed up in the air. Where we'll land, who knows? I've got a feeling they'll take one look at the fat old woman and tell her to "hit the road". I think my days as a tech-writer were numbered anyway. The software I work with is going away in less than a year, thanks to a less-than-smart move on the Navy's part. That's ok. I'll expect the worse, and if it's anything better I'll be pleasantly surprised. Maybe not completely happy, but it's been a long time since I was completely happy anyway.

And at this point in my life, I really wouldn't mind staying at home. I'm tired of working and coming home to a messy house that I don't want to clean. At the end of a long work day, I just want to kick back and NOT HAVE to do anything. I've got my little dog to keep my company and lots of unfinished projects at home. And I wouldn't mind doing housework if I didn't have to work too.

If the "worst" does happen, come springtime I'm having a clothesline installed. I always loved to hang out my laundry. I can take up sewing again and I can even finish that quilt I started for my son ten years ago. I can pick up and just go stay with my granddaughters any time I want. They need and want me now--ten years from now they'll be teenagers and have much more important things to do than hang out with grandma.

I'll have lots of time to walk and get exercise. I can drive up north a couple of hours and hang with my old classmates. When I get caught up with my housework, I might even do some spring-cleaning at my son's house. I could never be bored staying at home--not at this stage in my life.

So any way this falls, I'll make the best of it. The worst part is leaving co-workers that I've grown fond of. I won't miss the boring work. I won't miss the politics. But I would miss some of the folks I've worked with for the past 3-1/2 years.

Things have a way of USUALLY working out for the best. And even if something bad comes from all of this, there's still something good to be gleaned out of it. I may just have to look for a while to find it...but I will.

What????

Two weeks ago last Thursday I made a last-minute unplanned trip to take care of a four-year-old with a stomach bug. My daughter could not get off work, and my son-in-law was in training. I had Friday off anyway, so I threw a day's worth of clothes and my meds into a sack. Rudy had already sensed the phone call from my daughter meant a road trip and he was driving me crazy with his constant jumping and barking. I went ahead and put the little guy into the car to keep him out from under my feet so I could finish getting ready to go.

By dark I was at my daughter's hugging two seemingly healthy granddaughters. The youngest had lost her breakfast that morning, ran a temp, but seemed her normal self. She even had some crackers and Sprite and kept it down. So the next morning, the three healthy ones went to work and to school, and Kaylee and I did a little housework. I decided to cook a nice supper later on, and since Kaylee seemed fine, we took off around 10:30 to do some shopping and grab something to eat for lunch.

Kaylee told me without even giving it any thought that she wanted to eat at McDonald's. When we got to the counter, she asked if she could tell the girl at the counter what she wanted. Sure, I said. She did a fine job telling the girl that she wanted chicken nuggets, apple dippers, and a chocolate milk. I ordered, picked up the tray, and we took a seat in a booth.

Kaylee was her usual talkative self. She asked question after question. And invariably I had trouble hearing what she was asking me. Probably after about the 20th time I asked, "What???" Kaylee looked at me and loud enough for half the restaurant to hear proclaimed, "YOU need a hearing aid!"

I had NO trouble hearing that remark. I also had no trouble later that night when she told me my neck was like a trampoline.