Like a Pebble in my Shoe

Last week I was asked to do a small task for my boss that, like a pebble in my shoe, just won't stop irritating me.  The initial request was simple and straight-forward: open my wireless headset and email me the type of battery it takes so I may purchase a new one for the headset in my winter home.

Now, to back up a little, I was alone in the office due to an emergency in my co-worker's family and the boss' being at his winter home.  In addition to running the office by myself, we were in the middle of some sticky issues with inventory.  When this request came in, I didn't mind complying, but to say I was busy with more pressing concerns is not overstating the situation.

So, I got the headset from his office and spent 10 minutes locating a screwdriver small enough to remove the battery (thank goodness I wear glasses and carrry a repair kit in my purse or I would never had anything remotely small enough for the job).  I pulled the battery out and found that it was defintely NOT a traditional battery.  It wasn't even a watch-type battery.  It was white and square and relatively flat.  I wrote down and then sent the details to my boss by email, as he had requested.  I put the headset back together and got ready to head to lunch with my mom and sister for mom's birthday, a fact I had indicated in my email to him.

All was well to this point.  Just as I was grabbing my coat to leave for lunch, the office line rang.  Caller ID indicated it was my boss.  To be completely honest, my first instinct was to ignore it and head happily off to lunch.  In hindsight, this may have been the best choice, but I digress.  I answered and received a request to send photos of the battery to him so that he could purchase a new one while he was out.  Instead of reading the email, which he requested I send, he now wanted photos of the battery that I had, of course, already put away.  I asked if the request coudl wait since I was just running out for my lunch date, but it couldn't.  The words "take it with you and text the photos" came out of his mouth and ran right down that nerve in my spine.  You know the one right?  The one that causes you to flinch and wondered why some people are wired so differently.

With much irritation, I retrieved the headset from his office and ran out to lunch, late.  On arrival a few minutes later, I plunked my purse on the table and pulled out the headset to remove the battery (again) and then take some photos.  When my sister asked me what I was doing, I hate to admit that I was more than happy to give her the full, annoying story in relatively colorful detail.  Her response was quite logical, "Why couldn't he just take the one he has there with him and have the battery store open it and put in the new one for him?"  Great question!  I had some not so nice reasons why that was the case, but detailing those might make me look worse than I possibly already do.  However, my co-worker asked the same question when she returned and I related the story to her.  The simple answer is that he was already out and did not want to delay this errand to another time or day.  Somewhat understandable, but having this headset battery was not an urgent matter, and he was definitely going to be out of the house again soon, if not later than same day.  Why this had to be done on my personal time and during a birthday lunch with family is still beyond me.  Would an hour delay of these photos really have made that much difference?  I doubt it.  It was a matter of his own convenience and desires without any respect for the other person.

I was hoping that venting a little more of the steam here might be the metaphorical dumping of this particular pebble from my shoe, but no, it's still there, grinding it's rough edges into my skin until the next one arrives to either increase my discomfort or take its place.  Let's hope it's the latter.

Joyful Heart

Where has the time gone?  It seems like school started (with it youth group, driver's ed, volleyball, etc.) and time to write went out the window.  But today, thankfully, there is time again.  What is plaguing me today?  As may be obvious by the title, NOTHING!  For the past several days, I have been walking around with happiness and joy in my heart.  If you knew me, you would know that this is not the normal state of my being.  I'm not a negative person, but I am a realistic and practical one.  True joy is not usually a continual feeling for me.

But, for the past few days, I have felt nothing but the fullness of joy in my heart.  I'm happy.  Work is going well, almost too well for someone who hopes (at some point) to do something else for a living.  Relationships at home are stable, warm, loving, and have their share of laughter--this is true for mine with the hubs as well as for mine with my kids.

I had been having daily devotions in the morning and have recently been unable to do so.  The guilt of this and the loss of that contact God's word weighed on me.  I had been learning, growing, praying, and it was gone.  In response to those negative, self-centered feelings, what did God give me?  A heart full of gratitude for all of the blessings He's given me.  I have moments where I am nearly overwhelmed with thanksgiving for these blessings as my heart swells with joy.

I can only give credit to God for this.  I haven't gotten a new job; I haven't gotten a raise.  The hubs makes less money than he did a year ago.  The expenses associated with raising a 16 and a 12 year old increase by the day.  A window in our house was broken and needs to be replaced.  Bills mount, and it sometimes feels like we'll never be out of debt.  But, with all that sounds negative, I still have joy.

I love my hubs and my kids.  I have wonderful parents and the best sister anyone could have.  My in-laws are great people, and my sis-in-law is really just my sis.  I have food, heat, a home, a job, a family, love, a church, and my God.  What else could I need?

Celebrating Thanksgiving later this month is certain to be a blessed time for me, and I look forward to it more this year than ever before.  Count your blessings this holiday season and have a joyful heart!

Another confession

Okay, so I am finally writing again, and it's to confess to another addiction.  This time, luckily for my waistline, it's not some new type of candy addiction.  I am addicted to my local Target store.  That's right, Target.

Two years ago the youth group at my church as so small that they met in the Starbucks at a local Target store.  Because their meetings were only about an hour long, I saw no reason to drop off my eldest child and then leave only to have to return in 60 short minutes.  And that's how it began.  For over a year I spent an hour every Wednesday wandering around Target.  Sometimes I shopped, sometimes, well, let's face it:  I shopped every time.

After the format and size of youth group changed a little and we started meeting at the church again, my weekly visits ended.  Or did they?  I still found myself walking through those welcoming automatic doors on a regular basis, though probably not every week.  I have to say I love the little $1 to $2.50 section at the front of the store.  I always peruse that section, and more often than not, I find some $1 item I can't live without.  Crazy, but true.  It's like shopping at a garage sale where everything is new!  The best of both worlds to someone who isn't in love with garage sales but loves a "good deal."

How bad can this addiction possibly be when I no longer have a weekly excuse?  Bad enough.  If we need something in my house, my solution is usually "they have that at Target!"  Unless I've miscounted, I visited Target at least 4 times in August.  Once, to my own credit, was at lunch, and I didn't buy anything.  I just priced a few things and left.  But I went back and spent $90 the next day.  The bulk of this was for my daughter who made her middle school's volleyball team and needed some supplies.  I did walk out with a small purchase for myself, but when the clearance rack has a reasonably cute dress marked $5.98, who can resist???  Not me!

The real downside?  Obviously my Target bill not fun to pay each month.  I came so close to paying it off after having almost completely cut myself off from the store for the month of July.  And then I walked through the doors again.  It's not like it's out of control, but it's never going to get completely paid off if every time I get within $50 of a zero balance I go and buy $100 (or more) worth of stuff again!

I can certainly avoid the store, and that seems the best way to overcome this addiction.  Just like the M&M's, cold turkey is probably best.  But, even having confessed my addiction, I'm not sure this one will be so easy to get over.  As a family of four, there is always something we need.  And, until that ends, my motto will remain "they have that at Target!"

Cruel Summer

Wow, it seems unbelievable that it has been nearly two months since I've written anything here.  Is that because nothing has bothered me or because I have had nothing to say?  Of course not.  It has been mostly due to the fact that my summer schedule is cruel mistress.  She keeps me so busy and leaves me so tired that I barely have time to handle the basic necessities: I haven't done my weekly house cleaning in three weeks.

However, in defense of my sweet summer (I really do love her), I have to say that, this week at least, the exhaustion is mostly my own fault.  Who but the truest of idiots schedules VBS for their church, plans to leave for vacation, and has their sister-in-law visiting from South Korea all in the same week?  Me.  I would be that truest of idiot.  I know the reasons why all of these events have intersected, and some of it couldn't be helped.  Really.

The good news is that it's after noon on Wednesday, making the longest week of my summer officially half over!  By midnight on Friday night I will be on my way, with the hubs and without the kids, to spend a week on the beach in North Carolina.  I will probably spend the first two days catching up on all my missed sleep.  Well, not really, but right now nothing sounds closer to heaven than sleeping when I want to and not having to drive all over town every day.  I love my kids, I love my sis-in-law, I like my job, and I love my church, but getting away from it all for six days after this crazy week will be BLISS!

So, as of Friday, farewell cruel mistress.  I'll be back on July 21st!  You can beat me back into submission then.

The Lotus Eaters

From Homer's The Odyssey by way of Wikipedia, Odysseus's men "went about among the Lotus-eaters, who did them no hurt, but gave them to eat of the lotus, which was so delicious that those who ate of it left off caring about home, and did not even want to go back and say what had happened to them, but were for staying and munching lotus with the Lotus-eaters without thinking further of their return."

If you aren't familiar with this reference, remember in the movie version of Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief how they enter the Lotus hotel in Las Vegas, eat the flowers, and eventually realize they have lost all sense of time and really don't want to leave?

That is exactly how I feel when I go into a bookstore.  I walk in with an intended purpose, but once I'm through the door, all sense of purpose drains.  My eyes can't move fast enough and my brain can't process everything.  I'm mesmerized by all that is before me.  Why am I here?  What did I want?  A book, a magazine?  Let me wander around for awhile...  Oh, look, there's coffee, snacks, and a bathroom...  Why don't I grab one of the books and just rest and read while I wait for whatever it is I wanted to come back to mind?

"Can I help you find something?" a salesperson snaps me back to reality.

"Uh, no, thank you.  I'm just browsing," I say as I pull my phone from my purse.  WHAT?!  I've been here for an hour already?  How did that happen?  Was I actually here to buy something?  Not really.  Crap.  Head for the door.  Head for the door, now!

But, ooh, look at that cover...  That looks interesting...

Noticed something interesting...

The hubs and I had the opportunity to go out to dinner this past Saturday night, something that doesn't happen too often and was as a result of several events that have nothing to do with anything.  So, I'm saving that information and will just get right to the point.  (Isn't that nice of me?)

We decided to try a Mexican restaurant that we had never been to before.  To say the atmosphere was colorful is to abuse the word.  Every inch of the dining room was covered in the most brightly colored paint I've ever seen.  The depictions of people and animals and various landscapes were everywhere we looked.  I was grateful for the crappy corner booth where I sat facing the hubs against the back wall or I would never have been able to focus my attention long enough to hold a conversation.  I would say it would have distracted me from eating, but it would have had to have been much worse than it was to actually do THAT!

While we were filling up on chips and salsa, the hubs (since he was the only one who could see) noted, "How many people working here are white?"

I peered out of the booth, "None.  They are usually all Mexican."

"Uh huh, and how many Mexican people are eating here?"

"Uh...none, they're all white."

"Interesting.  What does that tell ya?"

Well, it tells me that 1) we should probably be careful how we refer to people of Latin origins while being served food and drinks by the same people, and 2) that quite possibly the food we think is "authentic Mexican" isn't really anywhere close.  That, or the kitchens of their wives, mothers, and grandmothers still serve better food   Or, ironically, they don't eat Mexican food when they eat out.

I have no idea what the reason for this "truism" is, but it's true every where we eat Mexican food here.  Regardless, I told the hubs, "now that's something to write about."  So, I did.

Confession...

I've recently confessed an addiction.  No, it isn't alcohol or drugs.  No, it isn't sex (just ask the hubs!) or anything quite that shocking.  "Hi, my name is Little Spot, and I've been addicted to sugar for, well, most of my adult life."  Recently, I have been addicted to one source of sugar in particular:  peanut butter M&Ms.  I was buying the medium and large size bulk bags to keep in my desk at work.  When I started eating what is probably the equivalent of 2 or 3 of the small check-out lane packs PER DAY, I realized I had a problem.  And, it was a problem I needed to resolve.  My bathroom scale was starting to show me exactly how big this issue (& my thighs/butt) had become.

So, now I can say, "Hi, my name is Little Spot, and I've been peanut butter M&M free for 5 days."  Notice I didn't say sugar free, just M&M free.  I'm crazy, not stupid.  If I were to quit sugar completely and cold turkey, I would probably find a bell tower or road rage someone off the highway.  Not good.  So, I'm just taking it one step at a time.

I recently confessed this addiction to the one member of my family who probably has the least ability to understand how addictive sugar can be as she eats almost no sugar at all.  She doesn't like cookies or cake.  She doesn't eat ice cream or even use syrup on her pancakes.  Truly, I don't get her as much as she probably doesn't get my problem with sugar.  The good news is that my confession to myself led me to confess to her which has also led me to confess in writing.  I'm now much more accountable, which I guess is part of the point of joining a 12-step program for something like alcoholism.

Today I went to the grocery and had to walk past the candy because it was literally across the aisle from the granola I wanted to purchase.  Score one for me!  I didn't even make eye contact.

But, I confess, I really, really wanted to.