The weekend delivers me, gives me a respite from running ragged. Right?
Well, not if you are me. On the weekend, I do the housecleaning, catch up on paperwork, try to figure out how to cram some kind of personal life into about 4 or 5 hours for the week, and mull over and try to prepare for the week ahead.
I would hazard to guess that many people I know do exactly this as well.
But does it really get me anywhere, except the corner of Bitter Blvd. and Exhausted Ave?
Regardless, I am still glad for the weekends. I get a few less calls, usually, and I can relax somewhat. I can determine when I do things, but I still am unclear on delegation at times. When I hand things over for someone else to do, I really don't hand it over. I still micromanage, and then end up doing the task or redoing the task myself because the job someone else did does not meet my standards.
Already, before 8AM, on my day off, I have taken out the trash, collected dishes to wash - as the dishes have not been done for a few days, and determined that I've got to clean the kitchen, do all the floors, and do at least ten loads of laundry, clean both bathrooms, and assemble a shelf that I bought last weekend that we desperately need in the bathroom for storage, but that is still in the box propped up on the dining wall. I also have to carry the stuff up the stairs to the kids room that has been collecting at the bottom of the stairs for the last three weeks. And clean Tara's room so if I can find a bed for her she can start using her room. Could someone else do these things?
Of course.
Will someone else do these things?
Not without my asking repeatedly to the point of nagging.
And nagging leaves me bitter and angry at everyone I live with.
And sometimes nagging and begging someone else to do the basic maintenance tasks of life is as hard as just doing it myself.
So, I have worked the program on this.
I'm lowering my expectations.
I'm doing alot of the stuff myself.
I'm not arguing all the time. Many times I am closing my mouth, when all I want to do is scream, "You want me to handle that too?"
And I am not jumping to provide all the creature comforts that are demanded by those who have grown to expect and have used me to enable their issues for so long. I am still expected to buy cigarettes and devote at least $25 to habit I don't have. I still am the emergency person when someone else fails to do something, I have to swoop in and save the day, no matter how many other things are on my plate to accomplish that day. But these things are going to have to cease if I want to keep my sanity.
Basically what I'm saying is that I am going to have to shore up my boundaries. Include time in my schedule to handle my responsibilities if they are truly mine. And if it is work-related, I need to delegate more. If it is not work-related, I can relax my expectations somewhat. And still delegate.
And most importantly, stop taking care of others so much that they lose all impetus to take care of themselves. Stop providing everything so they are provided the necessity and opportunity to step up and take an active role in their own lives by providing for themselves somewhat.
By doing this, I am allowing others the same opportunities I have been given to develop and prove themselves responsible, autonomous individuals. I also show them I trust them enough to handle this stuff, and believe in their ability to do it. I empower them to do it.
And maybe, just maybe, I get a moment of peace myself.
"My imperfections and failures are as much a blessing from God as my successes and my talents, and I lay them both at His feet." - Mahatma Gandhi
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Monday, January 31, 2011
I'm baccccckkkkkk.....
Hello, Dear Reader.
For the past few days I have been rather dismayed because my blog disappeared from Blogger. I was having a minor meltdown - well internally - I was holding it together on the outside. A friend called after I had posted on Facebook about it, and I didn't even have the strength to talk to her about it. I love talking to her, and in every conversation she says something witty or wise that helps me philosophically digest this thing called life, but I couldn't even talk to her. That's how flatlined I was.
Fast forward a couple of days, and I am getting the wind back in my sails.
Slowly but surely.
However, I am actively looking for another host for my blog. After the "missing" fiasco, I am looking at putting my ramblings in a different format, in a different place. I'll still blog, just maybe not here.
Once I have found and set up a new home for the blog, I will post something here to direct you. A link, gasp.
So on with the post:
Today I got up and went to the old office to have a meeting with an Area Administrator. I really enjoy working with her, and I won't have the chance to work with her for much longer, so I am enjoying her company and picking her brain for wisdom.
Then I went to help a client move some of her things. This took so long I was late in picking up my kids from school - about 30 minutes late! - and then I took them home and dropped them off with St Timothy of the Parental Unit. I then got back in the car, went to the office and sent a fax, and met a staff and drove her to Lexington to meet with a new referred client. And then we drove back to Frankfort, I dropped off the staff person at her car and then went to an Al-Anon meeting. I suggested we have the meeting on gratitude - more on that in a minute. After the meeting I met with a lady I really respect and admire and asked her to sponsor me. I have a sponsor who has been really good for me, and I think this lady will also kick my ass through the goalposts of recovery as well.
I then came home, sent St Timothy, Patron Saint of the Food Run, to get some dinner, and then proceeded to complete some more work calls. Now I'm in bed, having been cuddled and debriefed from the day by Tara. Looking forward to reading until I fall asleep, and sleeping until 7AM, when the alarm will wake me up for another day of fun.
Good night, Dear Reader.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane by Katherine HoweMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
After reading what others have said about this book, I hazard to guess I liked it more than most. Yes, the protagonist was priggish and dense in some areas, and I was not surprised about that. Overall, though, I felt that this book represented some matrilineal pride and was about history - personal history and myths and intergenerational revisioning of history - not exact history or scholarship. It's a novel, after all. I felt the exploration of the subject matter compelling, no doubt because Katherine Howe claims genealogical ties to both Elizabeth Howe and Elizabeth Proctor.
For feminist history on this subject, check out Devil in the Shape of a Woman.
But for a good read, compelling and interesting, this book did well for me.
View all my reviews
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Written last night around 2 or 3 am....
Tonight was one of those nights where everyone lost their fucking minds. It began as any other Saturday night. I cooked dinner, Chloe had a friend over (at 15, she cannot bear to spend a single weekend without a peer in her face constantly), and Tara was playing loudly and creatively. Tim was on the couch.
As I called everyone to dinner, the lights in the dining room began to dim, and then went out. The house was dark. The street was dark. Hell, the town was dark. Some kind of craptastic thing had happened to an electric plant transformer somewhere.
Suddenly, no one had any sense. Chloe’s visitor starting telling me she was going to cry, that she is scared of the dark. Never mind that I, hippie that I am, possess enough waxy wicks to candlepower a moderately large satanic ritual. She was not in the dark. She was in candlelight. My kids, never ones to be outdone, started telling each other how haunted our old house is, and discussing the difference between spirits and residual hauntings. The friend called her mother; mother came and got her. Chloe flounced back upstairs to stew in her emotastic miasma of a room. Tara crashed on the couch under four or five blankets. Tim was on the couch.
I retreated to the bedroom, caught up on the meditation readings in the books I use, and snuggled deeper under the covers to get started on the new novel I’ve been dying to read, Cutting for Stone, by Abraham Verghese. I didn’t even make it through five pages when the work cell phone rang. It was a staff person at the old job calling to tell me the electricity – and hence the lights and heat – were out at the house she was working. No shit, Sherlock, I resisted the urge to say. However, after listening to her describe how she had called two other members of management who ignored her phone call and told her they were in the same boat respectively, I interrupted her to ask her what she wanted me to do. She had no answer, but continued to bemoan the lack of electricity. I again interrupted, what can I do? She then got haughty, “You don’t have to be an asshole to me.” So I put on my clothes, got in my car and drove through the blackout streets of the Capital City to inform her of the necessity of speaking with supervisors with some modicum of respect. Fake it, for fuck’s sake. As I entered the house where she works, I was struck first by the fact that it is at least 30 degrees warmer than my own house I had just left. Then I was struck by the fact that, although she claimed her cell phones were dead, that she was playing on them, texting and taking calls. Both my clients were in bed, snug as bugs in rugs. And she was sitting on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket with a candle burning. In other words, actually in better shape than I am at my own house. So I explain quite plainly that she is not to call her supervisors assholes at 11:15PM when she calls them at home to whine about unfixable situations, especially situations that aren’t that bad. And then I wait, as she only has 15 minutes left on her shift anyway. The next darling employee comes to work 15 minutes late. Gotta love punctuality, respect and problem-solving skills. While I am there, Tim calls me on the cell phone – no doubt from the couch – saying it is too cold and I need to come home so they can all get in my car and run the heat. So I turn back, get back on the roads, and drive through a darkened town. Four miles from home, my cell phone rings again. This time he tells me the electricity is back on, but the heat is not. Apparently our heat will not come on. I go home to fiddle with the thermostat while he tries to coax a pilot light on. Although we’re not exactly sure it was ever off. However, he has turned it off and on again so much at this point, it appears it will be 45 degrees Fahrenheit in my bed forever.
Maybe I need to go to the couch?
As I called everyone to dinner, the lights in the dining room began to dim, and then went out. The house was dark. The street was dark. Hell, the town was dark. Some kind of craptastic thing had happened to an electric plant transformer somewhere.
Suddenly, no one had any sense. Chloe’s visitor starting telling me she was going to cry, that she is scared of the dark. Never mind that I, hippie that I am, possess enough waxy wicks to candlepower a moderately large satanic ritual. She was not in the dark. She was in candlelight. My kids, never ones to be outdone, started telling each other how haunted our old house is, and discussing the difference between spirits and residual hauntings. The friend called her mother; mother came and got her. Chloe flounced back upstairs to stew in her emotastic miasma of a room. Tara crashed on the couch under four or five blankets. Tim was on the couch.
I retreated to the bedroom, caught up on the meditation readings in the books I use, and snuggled deeper under the covers to get started on the new novel I’ve been dying to read, Cutting for Stone, by Abraham Verghese. I didn’t even make it through five pages when the work cell phone rang. It was a staff person at the old job calling to tell me the electricity – and hence the lights and heat – were out at the house she was working. No shit, Sherlock, I resisted the urge to say. However, after listening to her describe how she had called two other members of management who ignored her phone call and told her they were in the same boat respectively, I interrupted her to ask her what she wanted me to do. She had no answer, but continued to bemoan the lack of electricity. I again interrupted, what can I do? She then got haughty, “You don’t have to be an asshole to me.” So I put on my clothes, got in my car and drove through the blackout streets of the Capital City to inform her of the necessity of speaking with supervisors with some modicum of respect. Fake it, for fuck’s sake. As I entered the house where she works, I was struck first by the fact that it is at least 30 degrees warmer than my own house I had just left. Then I was struck by the fact that, although she claimed her cell phones were dead, that she was playing on them, texting and taking calls. Both my clients were in bed, snug as bugs in rugs. And she was sitting on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket with a candle burning. In other words, actually in better shape than I am at my own house. So I explain quite plainly that she is not to call her supervisors assholes at 11:15PM when she calls them at home to whine about unfixable situations, especially situations that aren’t that bad. And then I wait, as she only has 15 minutes left on her shift anyway. The next darling employee comes to work 15 minutes late. Gotta love punctuality, respect and problem-solving skills. While I am there, Tim calls me on the cell phone – no doubt from the couch – saying it is too cold and I need to come home so they can all get in my car and run the heat. So I turn back, get back on the roads, and drive through a darkened town. Four miles from home, my cell phone rings again. This time he tells me the electricity is back on, but the heat is not. Apparently our heat will not come on. I go home to fiddle with the thermostat while he tries to coax a pilot light on. Although we’re not exactly sure it was ever off. However, he has turned it off and on again so much at this point, it appears it will be 45 degrees Fahrenheit in my bed forever.
Maybe I need to go to the couch?
Friday, December 31, 2010
old year, new year, two year, blue year....
if the title of this entry sounds like something seussian, well, that was its intent.
at this moment, my belongings are being packed on a truck to be shuttled to south frankfort, a gentle neighborhood where cool people and historic preservation meet. i am looking forward to spending the night in a new place, where, if i do hear thuds above my head they will be created from demons sprung from my own loins, not the rednecks upstairs. there will be a yard for the dogson to play, and the girls to romp. and in the spring, for grass to grow and perchance for herbs to sprout.
but i am not there. i am typing away in my new office, which is exactly the right temperature (today that temp is 71 F.). my stomach is full from a delicious lunch from the coffee shop a couple of blocks away. and i am thinking about taking a lovely walk home in the sunny (61F!) afternoon.
tomorrow i have a lovely day planned of unpacking. i will take a break to walk to my home group al-anon meeting - less than 2 blocks away! - and then perhaps have some friends from the group over for a visit, tea/coffee and help unpacking. life is getting simpler and yet more complex....
simpler, i have described above. my dream has always been to live in one of two places - in a remote mountain location, or in a town with cultural opportunities all within walking distance. i am realizing this, finally.
more complex because i have only now realized that i have to learn to enjoy simplicity and serenity. it's something i have claimed always to want, but yet i have never learned to really treasure, cultivate or respect and defend.
maybe i am growing up? perish the thought.
at any rate, here's wishing those readers who have stuck with me a beautiful, serene, healthy and kind 2011.
namaste.
at this moment, my belongings are being packed on a truck to be shuttled to south frankfort, a gentle neighborhood where cool people and historic preservation meet. i am looking forward to spending the night in a new place, where, if i do hear thuds above my head they will be created from demons sprung from my own loins, not the rednecks upstairs. there will be a yard for the dogson to play, and the girls to romp. and in the spring, for grass to grow and perchance for herbs to sprout.
but i am not there. i am typing away in my new office, which is exactly the right temperature (today that temp is 71 F.). my stomach is full from a delicious lunch from the coffee shop a couple of blocks away. and i am thinking about taking a lovely walk home in the sunny (61F!) afternoon.
tomorrow i have a lovely day planned of unpacking. i will take a break to walk to my home group al-anon meeting - less than 2 blocks away! - and then perhaps have some friends from the group over for a visit, tea/coffee and help unpacking. life is getting simpler and yet more complex....
simpler, i have described above. my dream has always been to live in one of two places - in a remote mountain location, or in a town with cultural opportunities all within walking distance. i am realizing this, finally.
more complex because i have only now realized that i have to learn to enjoy simplicity and serenity. it's something i have claimed always to want, but yet i have never learned to really treasure, cultivate or respect and defend.
maybe i am growing up? perish the thought.
at any rate, here's wishing those readers who have stuck with me a beautiful, serene, healthy and kind 2011.
namaste.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Solstice musings
today is the shortest, darkest day of the year. no wonder then, i am feeling down, feeling the mourning of things lost.
however, things are looking up at chez terre. we are moving in the next week or two, to an actual house in a downtown neighborhood that i really like. i will be within a half mile of both work and my al-anon home meeting group. i will also have a backyard, a home office, and room for my kids, dog and husband. the home has potential and i am looking forward to moving into it.
at the moment, however, i don't the funds to move, and am going to try to do my best to get a few things moved over so we can spend christmas eve - or failing that, christmas night - at our new house.
i am also in the process of changing jobs. the pro of this is that i will be making substantially more money. the con is that i actually love my old job and the people i work with. although i work my ass off, i feel comfortable there. and i also will miss the folks (clients) i have been working with. it is a bittersweet thing. i'm also taking on more responsibilities overall with the new job, so it will stretch my comfort zone a bit. but it was time to step up, if i look at it from a purely business career perspective.
so this is the short, dark time. i look toward the light, willing and wanting simpler, easier, happier times for the future.
and that is also what i wish for you.
however, things are looking up at chez terre. we are moving in the next week or two, to an actual house in a downtown neighborhood that i really like. i will be within a half mile of both work and my al-anon home meeting group. i will also have a backyard, a home office, and room for my kids, dog and husband. the home has potential and i am looking forward to moving into it.
at the moment, however, i don't the funds to move, and am going to try to do my best to get a few things moved over so we can spend christmas eve - or failing that, christmas night - at our new house.
i am also in the process of changing jobs. the pro of this is that i will be making substantially more money. the con is that i actually love my old job and the people i work with. although i work my ass off, i feel comfortable there. and i also will miss the folks (clients) i have been working with. it is a bittersweet thing. i'm also taking on more responsibilities overall with the new job, so it will stretch my comfort zone a bit. but it was time to step up, if i look at it from a purely business career perspective.
so this is the short, dark time. i look toward the light, willing and wanting simpler, easier, happier times for the future.
and that is also what i wish for you.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Some thoughts on gratitude
This time of year always evokes a multitude of frankly weird emotions in me.
At this moment I am watching BBC News and the headline was about some miners in New Zealand. Because I love many things about New Zealand, including everyone I have ever met, this makes me sad. A second explosion has left no survivors. While the world rejoiced when the Chilean miners emerged from their temporary crypt, there will be no such celebration in New Zealand. Another story is about Ireland’s horrible economic forecast, with all the cuts in public and social services. It is truly sad to comprehend that in so many local areas, not just in my own country, so many people are facing economic – and by extension, psychosocial – depression. The news is not good. And it is not good from anywhere.
Today I worked on getting some new hires trained, and dealt with an “old hire” – a current employee who seems bent on not doing what I ask. This seems to be a pattern. It makes me think that I have exhausted my ability to make a difference there.
And then I come home. The BBC News lets me know that things are touch all over. More stories. Demonstrations in the street in London. Death toll in Cambodia by stampede now over 450 persons. Persons who may have had hope, may have thought they could make difference.
Tara greets me with a hug, shrieking, “Mommy!” She traipses through the house in her old princess dress, and tells me she has tried raisins, and likes them, but not from a box. She tells me she has had a long day, and demonstrates how her toes can hold a pencil just like her fingers do. No matter how dark the news, no matter how bleak the freezing rain outside is, Tara can bring light and balance to my perspective. Kind of like her namesake. The female Buddha, Tara.
So gratitude. Here’s my take. I am grateful for having an open mind, a worldview that allows me to see others with compassion at times, knowing that I would be better served with more compassion. A perspective that gives me the ability to see the injustice in the world, and a mind that can sometimes trap and release words that allow others to understand these injustice in a more personal and meaningful way. A mindset that allows me to seek the spirit and not get mired in dogma. And finally, a intrinsic happiness that enables me to gain some small saving joy from little sillinesses in each day with my fellow human beings.
May your Thanksgiving be what you need to it to be to bring more enlightenment into your world.
At this moment I am watching BBC News and the headline was about some miners in New Zealand. Because I love many things about New Zealand, including everyone I have ever met, this makes me sad. A second explosion has left no survivors. While the world rejoiced when the Chilean miners emerged from their temporary crypt, there will be no such celebration in New Zealand. Another story is about Ireland’s horrible economic forecast, with all the cuts in public and social services. It is truly sad to comprehend that in so many local areas, not just in my own country, so many people are facing economic – and by extension, psychosocial – depression. The news is not good. And it is not good from anywhere.
Today I worked on getting some new hires trained, and dealt with an “old hire” – a current employee who seems bent on not doing what I ask. This seems to be a pattern. It makes me think that I have exhausted my ability to make a difference there.
And then I come home. The BBC News lets me know that things are touch all over. More stories. Demonstrations in the street in London. Death toll in Cambodia by stampede now over 450 persons. Persons who may have had hope, may have thought they could make difference.
Tara greets me with a hug, shrieking, “Mommy!” She traipses through the house in her old princess dress, and tells me she has tried raisins, and likes them, but not from a box. She tells me she has had a long day, and demonstrates how her toes can hold a pencil just like her fingers do. No matter how dark the news, no matter how bleak the freezing rain outside is, Tara can bring light and balance to my perspective. Kind of like her namesake. The female Buddha, Tara.
So gratitude. Here’s my take. I am grateful for having an open mind, a worldview that allows me to see others with compassion at times, knowing that I would be better served with more compassion. A perspective that gives me the ability to see the injustice in the world, and a mind that can sometimes trap and release words that allow others to understand these injustice in a more personal and meaningful way. A mindset that allows me to seek the spirit and not get mired in dogma. And finally, a intrinsic happiness that enables me to gain some small saving joy from little sillinesses in each day with my fellow human beings.
May your Thanksgiving be what you need to it to be to bring more enlightenment into your world.
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