I had to meet a client yesterday to give him papers for a refinance closing happening on Monday. He is actually one of my favorite clients. Nice guy, divorced, two kids, very smart and really high energy. He is very personable and easy to talk to so we have somewhat become friends (not good friends, the kind that talk about every 6 months, he only has my work contact info).
I met him at a Brewery/Restaurant about 10 minutes from my office for lunch. I am not drinking any alcohol these days so I had 3 Club Soda’s with lime while he had 2 glasses of Pinot Noir. We chatted for a while and after we said our Good bye’s I went to the washroom. As I was heading to the door I heard a man’s voice say “Lauren?”, I turned and looked at him totally confused.
“Yes”
“My god you are so much prettier in person”
At this point I am totally confused, I have no idea who this person is, how he knows my name, who he is, although he is totally my type. I am sure the look of confusion on my face was making this poor man uncomfortable. Finally I broke the silence that was probably no longer than 10 seconds (felt like an hour).
“Do I know you?”
“He said Oh My Gosh, you are not Lauren from Match.com are you?”
For a split second I wanted to be Lauren from Match.com but took the honest route.
“No hon, I am sorry to say I am not, but since you know my name, what is yours?”
He stared deep into my eyes with such a disappointed look and said
“Mike, my name is Mike. Are you married?”
“No, definitely not married”
Just then a girl walked in fitting my description pretty well wearing almost my exact outfit (hence why he thought I was her). I saw her enter and said.
“I think the Lauren you are meeting just arrived”.
He turned around and looked at her. Turning back to me he said
“I hate the internet dating thing, and where do I meet a girl like you anyway?”
I pulled my business card out of my wallet and handed it to him…”You just did”
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Search and Rescue Mission
I so look forward to my annual check up (or at least getting it out of the way). Nothing has been new in years. As a matter of fact I am counting the days until a doctor will agree to permanently block any swimmers from entering my ocean (if you know what I mean). In the mean time I am sporting an IUD, the copper coil to be exact. Every year since I have had it in the conversation with the doctor has been the same.
“How is everything going?”
“Good”
“Oh, here is the string, everything looks good. See ya next year.”
I just took her word for it. I have never seen it or felt it so I just assumed that it was something that only people with MD at the end of their name could see. Much like only children can see their imaginary friends, but I believe they can see them because I had one as a child and “The Clown” was REAL.
Well today, there was no string. She asked me if I noticed anything that looked strange coming out. I told her “No, I’ve seen a few strange looking things go in but nothing strange came out”. Keep in mind I said this with the utmost honesty and completely straight thoughtful expression and it wasn’t until after I said it that I realized how it sounded. She started laughing hysterically and once she caught her breath, told me that I would need to get an Ultra Sound done so the string/IUD could be located.
The irony of me being the lucky one to get a playful IUD, I guess it got bored.
“How is everything going?”
“Good”
“Oh, here is the string, everything looks good. See ya next year.”
I just took her word for it. I have never seen it or felt it so I just assumed that it was something that only people with MD at the end of their name could see. Much like only children can see their imaginary friends, but I believe they can see them because I had one as a child and “The Clown” was REAL.
Well today, there was no string. She asked me if I noticed anything that looked strange coming out. I told her “No, I’ve seen a few strange looking things go in but nothing strange came out”. Keep in mind I said this with the utmost honesty and completely straight thoughtful expression and it wasn’t until after I said it that I realized how it sounded. She started laughing hysterically and once she caught her breath, told me that I would need to get an Ultra Sound done so the string/IUD could be located.
The irony of me being the lucky one to get a playful IUD, I guess it got bored.
Beautiful Pain in the Ass
We are almost through with February and all I can think about is the day that I can wake up in the morning with my bedroom window open and to the sound of birds chirping. This morning when my alarm went off I hit snooze and just listened, I could hear the sound of the ice pellets hitting the window and the hum of the snow plow, followed by some poor soul scraping/shoveling their driveway.
I admit that I rolled over for just a sec trying to remember what it feels like to have the warm sun on my face and look forward to getting dressed in something colorful and put on some strappy heels.
God I hate snow!
Friday, February 22, 2008
Evidently some people think they can get what they want by merely bitching
Along the path of getting to know someone you get to know their boundaries, % of truth and drama they like to have in their life, and whether they are cleansing or toxic to your world. This holds true with friends, people you date, co-workers, neighbors, parents of my son’s friends, teachers, clients, anyone and everyone you come in contact with where character matters. (No I do not pick apart the people at the gas station; all I expect from them is my change and a simple “Have a nice day.”)
A few things people know about me, I am punctual, I do things without having to be asked, and I do things that I may have to apologize for tomorrow but… I DO THEM... I am extremely decisive and while I have been known to keep my mouth shut where wishy-washy people are concerned they always know where I stand.
A little incident at work today got me thinking about people’s character. Some people believe that everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt, some believe that no one does. As for me I give people the benefit of the doubt until they prove that they don’t deserve it and then I treat them the way they treat me.
Today two of my co-workers had a disagreement as to who’s client a policyholder that was ready to sign up should be. One had the household in her name for over a year and had never made contact. The other had been in contact with the future client quite frequently over the past 4 months (there was also a household in his name). When it came to Co-worker 1’s attention that Co-worker 2 had the same household in her name, he asked me what I would do.
I looked at both households and told him that I would just handle it my way and eliminate the possibility of her trying to snake the business from him (there is a way to manipulate the system and make her household go away). I explained that knowing her I fully expect her to be an unfair B**ch about the situation. He chose to play by the book anyway and bring it to her attention (this was at 9:30 this morning). She of course claimed that she has been in contact and that he was trying to steal her policies (that she has never prepared quotes for). They then brought it to my manager’s attention. He immediately (before looking at both households took Co-worker 2’s side - which he does quite frequently). Then looked a little closer and said, “I need to think about this.” As I have stated in past posts…he is an Ass clown incapable of making a decision. It is now almost 3:00 in the afternoon and there still isn’t a resolution to the problem, but it has eaten up the majority of the day being talked about not to mention that the client is waiting for the applications.
Co-worker 1 is totally frustrated with how this is being handled and I don’t blame him. I told him…”I told you this morning that I could have fixed the problem before it started but noooooo, you wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. I don’t know much but I know people.”
A few things people know about me, I am punctual, I do things without having to be asked, and I do things that I may have to apologize for tomorrow but… I DO THEM... I am extremely decisive and while I have been known to keep my mouth shut where wishy-washy people are concerned they always know where I stand.
A little incident at work today got me thinking about people’s character. Some people believe that everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt, some believe that no one does. As for me I give people the benefit of the doubt until they prove that they don’t deserve it and then I treat them the way they treat me.
Today two of my co-workers had a disagreement as to who’s client a policyholder that was ready to sign up should be. One had the household in her name for over a year and had never made contact. The other had been in contact with the future client quite frequently over the past 4 months (there was also a household in his name). When it came to Co-worker 1’s attention that Co-worker 2 had the same household in her name, he asked me what I would do.
I looked at both households and told him that I would just handle it my way and eliminate the possibility of her trying to snake the business from him (there is a way to manipulate the system and make her household go away). I explained that knowing her I fully expect her to be an unfair B**ch about the situation. He chose to play by the book anyway and bring it to her attention (this was at 9:30 this morning). She of course claimed that she has been in contact and that he was trying to steal her policies (that she has never prepared quotes for). They then brought it to my manager’s attention. He immediately (before looking at both households took Co-worker 2’s side - which he does quite frequently). Then looked a little closer and said, “I need to think about this.” As I have stated in past posts…he is an Ass clown incapable of making a decision. It is now almost 3:00 in the afternoon and there still isn’t a resolution to the problem, but it has eaten up the majority of the day being talked about not to mention that the client is waiting for the applications.
Co-worker 1 is totally frustrated with how this is being handled and I don’t blame him. I told him…”I told you this morning that I could have fixed the problem before it started but noooooo, you wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. I don’t know much but I know people.”
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
hello NOT fabulous
Yesterday I had my follow up appointment to get the results of the blood work taken 10 days ago. I showed up for my 1:00 appointment at 12:30 (Because if I am 15 minutes early, I am running late). The receptionist looked really confused and told me they did not have me on the schedule. I thought “Oh jeez, what did I do?” she asked me if I had the appointment card, I told her yes and sure as I was standing there…I was wrong. I had an appointment on January 18th and apparently thought it would be fun to write it down for February 18th.
I am doing fine on the Chantix (it is not effecting my liver at all – I would have thought the test would have come back different by the amount of red wine I have consumed in the last 3 months alone) but she is concerned about my cholesterol, its quite high. Then she went into talking about my BWI (Body Weight Index), she said something about me being a 25 and they like to see people more in the 18 – 22 range. She looked at me up and down and kinda scratched her head. I asked her why she was looking at me like she was. She told me to just give her a sec and she re-checked my chart and then looked at me and said I think if you lose about 5 or 10 lbs it will make a big difference in your cholesterol. I giggled and said I was thinking more like 30 lbs.
You see, I am not extremely tall (5’8”) but I always wear high heels bringing me to 6’ so people often think I am thinner than I am. She took out her calculator and started figuring what I should weigh for my height and low and behold….I was right, I need to lose 30 lbs and she has given me 3 months to do it. I am actually OK with this. I have been trying to find a way to make working out a priority in my life and now I guess the Doc made it a priority for me.
All I kept thinking was that I wanted to introduce myself to everyone in the parking lot as “Hello I am Not Fabulous, I need to lose 30 lbs and my LDL is 152…what’s your story?”
I am doing fine on the Chantix (it is not effecting my liver at all – I would have thought the test would have come back different by the amount of red wine I have consumed in the last 3 months alone) but she is concerned about my cholesterol, its quite high. Then she went into talking about my BWI (Body Weight Index), she said something about me being a 25 and they like to see people more in the 18 – 22 range. She looked at me up and down and kinda scratched her head. I asked her why she was looking at me like she was. She told me to just give her a sec and she re-checked my chart and then looked at me and said I think if you lose about 5 or 10 lbs it will make a big difference in your cholesterol. I giggled and said I was thinking more like 30 lbs.
You see, I am not extremely tall (5’8”) but I always wear high heels bringing me to 6’ so people often think I am thinner than I am. She took out her calculator and started figuring what I should weigh for my height and low and behold….I was right, I need to lose 30 lbs and she has given me 3 months to do it. I am actually OK with this. I have been trying to find a way to make working out a priority in my life and now I guess the Doc made it a priority for me.
All I kept thinking was that I wanted to introduce myself to everyone in the parking lot as “Hello I am Not Fabulous, I need to lose 30 lbs and my LDL is 152…what’s your story?”
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Happy Valentines Day!
I am sitting at my desk not really wanting to do anything that resembles work. I have made my phone calls, got the necessary quotes out, visited TMZ.com to catch up on current events, visited and read my favorite blogs, sent and received about 60 texts and am sucking on sweet hearts candies one at a time. I like to suck on them to the point that they get a little soft and then break off little pieces around the edges of the heart with my front teeth.
I just looked at my tongue and it is the prettiest shade of pinkish/purple, wish I had shoes that color.
As you can tell I am in a silly mood. Just felt like sharing.
I just looked at my tongue and it is the prettiest shade of pinkish/purple, wish I had shoes that color.
As you can tell I am in a silly mood. Just felt like sharing.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Let the sun shine in!
I have 3 inches of solid ice on half my driveway. Most of the Midwest got hit with a lot of snow in the last 2 weeks and I decided since it was only me that needed to get in and out of the driveway (and I have 4 wheel drive), that it really wasn’t necessary to shovel the whole thing. Being female I guess I was swayed by the side of the brain that convinces us to put our hair up in a rubber band (rather than deal with the blow dryer and curling iron) , wear pants rather than a skirt (to avoid shaving), or go through a drive thru to pick up dinner (because you are hungry right now and the thought of waiting 4 minutes for the microwave to do its job is not something you are willing to do).
The sun decided to shine today and my brain has started to work again. I am happy to help people out, little annoying tasks that just 24 hours ago took every ounce of patience I had in me to complete just seem to take care of themselves. I am expecting an offer letter early next week for a position I am really interested in and was in contact today with someone in the industry I was in prior to Insurance that is hiring for a sales position that would actually be a perfect fit for me. It seems that things are looking up (knock on wood).
I was the recipient of a random act of kindness- which is another thing that can totally change any ones outlook on things. It was a simple e-mail from a customer I just signed.
(This e-mail was actually sent to my manager and he forwarded it along to me.)
“Recently I switched from State Farm to your company. I wanted to express my sincere thoughts about -“Lauren”, one of your Sales Associates, during my crossover. She showed great professionalism in getting me all the relevant information, follow up, communication and showed relentless patience. Her positive and a very friendly attitude while working out various permutations/combinations ( would have driven me nuts if I were sitting in her chair ) was factored in my decision. She is truly an asset you, keep hiring such good people and see your business grow. Thanks for your time.”
WOW, I totally needed someone to just “be nice”. Funny thing when I read this e-mail, I felt like for a few minutes all the stress I have been under was worth it. About 5 minutes after receiving this e-mail, flowers were delivered to my office. I don’t have (or want) a boyfriend currently (mostly because taking on another thing to be responsible for would pretty much be the proverbial straw that breaks the camel’s back), but a really nice gesture all the same.
I guess its safe to pluck the pins and needles out of my butt and sit in comfort for a while…don’t ya think?
The sun decided to shine today and my brain has started to work again. I am happy to help people out, little annoying tasks that just 24 hours ago took every ounce of patience I had in me to complete just seem to take care of themselves. I am expecting an offer letter early next week for a position I am really interested in and was in contact today with someone in the industry I was in prior to Insurance that is hiring for a sales position that would actually be a perfect fit for me. It seems that things are looking up (knock on wood).
I was the recipient of a random act of kindness- which is another thing that can totally change any ones outlook on things. It was a simple e-mail from a customer I just signed.
(This e-mail was actually sent to my manager and he forwarded it along to me.)
“Recently I switched from State Farm to your company. I wanted to express my sincere thoughts about -“Lauren”, one of your Sales Associates, during my crossover. She showed great professionalism in getting me all the relevant information, follow up, communication and showed relentless patience. Her positive and a very friendly attitude while working out various permutations/combinations ( would have driven me nuts if I were sitting in her chair ) was factored in my decision. She is truly an asset you, keep hiring such good people and see your business grow. Thanks for your time.”
WOW, I totally needed someone to just “be nice”. Funny thing when I read this e-mail, I felt like for a few minutes all the stress I have been under was worth it. About 5 minutes after receiving this e-mail, flowers were delivered to my office. I don’t have (or want) a boyfriend currently (mostly because taking on another thing to be responsible for would pretty much be the proverbial straw that breaks the camel’s back), but a really nice gesture all the same.
I guess its safe to pluck the pins and needles out of my butt and sit in comfort for a while…don’t ya think?
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Holding Jack (ass) accountable and the difference between being a father and a dad
Jack,
Now you know that our conversation on Friday about how it was your weekend to have our son and you were having trouble finding a sitter for him so you could go to Katie Your friend from high school's wife of 6 years 40th birthday party wasn't over. I know how much you do not like being held accountable for your actions or responsibilities but this time you have gone too far.
I want you to imagine the look on our sons face when you called back and asked him…"Do I have you tomorrow night?" Are you that insensitive or that stupid? After he answered you and you hung up he looked at me and said "I think he forgot that he has me this weekend". That (and your blatant disrespect for the time that is allotted for you to spend with your son) is what triggered the ass reaming you got from me. Do you realize that since January 1st you have spent more time with Sonia than you have your son? (And in order to do that there has to be days off work for you and an airplane involved.) It has become quite apparent that our son is not one of your priorities Jack and that just makes you a heartless asshole. We do have a Legal Joint Parenting agreement in place and going forward I am no longer going to let you off the hook from it. I understand that in your selfish mind driving to my new home 34 miles away once a week on a Wednesday (which was the original day we agreed upon to be your visitation day) to see your son and exercise the "fathers rights" that you snowballed your lawyer into thinking were important to you and to fight so hard for is an inconvenience for you. Makes me wonder…how inconvenient can it possibly be to schedule that day to be done with work and get to our sons school at 3:30 when the traffic isn't so bad. You work from home so it can't be inconvenient to make phone calls from your car. You tend bar when you are needed during the week in the city, which keeps you up until 4:30 in the morning (that certainly can't be convenient when you have to get up and sell surgical implants all day – Oh that's right you mentioned that you don't schedule much on the days after you bar tend because you are tired). Why is it that you have a flexible schedule for everyone except our son? Or is that just your way of raising the bar a smidge bit higher than your own father did where parenting skills are concerned? (FYI you would still be army crawling under the proverbial bar).
I'd like to give you a glimpse into my world. First I will give you an analogy of what it is like to be me and then I will map out what a typical week looks like (keep in mind that our son being sick, snow days, doctors appointments and possibly having to run an appointment (yes I have a job) at night are not included.
Analogy of my life and how I am handling it until some much needed changes happen:The best way for me to explain my life right now is to ask you to imagine a baseball game. One team has 9 players and the other team has 1. The team with 1 player plays every position on the field. That team with 1 player is me. It is impossible to play every position and I have come to terms with that so basically what I am doing is sitting on the pitcher's mound in protest. I am not fielding any balls, nor am I giving up the ball for anyone to throw in the air and fire line drives at my head.
A typical week without any extra's added in:
M-W-F, get up get our son to school. Work until 5:00 pick him up, feed him a snack, drop him at Karate, pick him up from Karate, make him dinner, home work: he needs to read to me for 20 minutes, spelling, math, geography and 15 minutes of math on the math website. This usually brings us to about 8:30
Tuesday: same morning routine and day with the exception of I have to be at the office until 7:00 (per my idiot boss, not my idea). Our son's daycare ends at 6:00. Sometimes I can count on Megan from day care taking our son to her house and I pick him up from there at 7:15 get home by 7:35 make dinner, do the same homework routine. (On the days Megan can't do it I pick him up and bring him to the office to sit in a cubical by himself while I participate in the call night). This day has gone as late as 10:00.
Thursday: This is the one day of the week that ends by 7:30. In all honesty, I do not take phone calls on this night because by this point of the week there isn't much left of me and all I want to do it muster up enough strength to get through the next day. Make sure our son is ready for his spelling test and any other end of the week tests he may have.
Weekends: I like to get things done on the weekends that I don't have time to do during the week. I like to be on my own schedule as all I get to do all week long is be on everyone else's. I refuse to let our son live in filth so cleaning the house is important. I get 4 days a month to make plans whether they are social or just to let my mind go to mush to make sure I have enough in me to get through the next 2 weeks until I get to be Lauren (Just Lauren) again. I haven't had a babysitter for him (for any social time for me)while he has been in 3rd grade as the work is more challenging and I need to make sure he is staying focused.
Money right now is extremely tight (although notice I haven't asked you for anything additional, as a matter of fact I handle about $ 150 a month of additional expenses that pop up where our son is concerned that I never ask you to split with me). In return for not bothering you for knit picky and petty things I get in return from you being punished for moving closer to where I work so I can get to our son quickly in case he gets sick at school (it happened 7 times when we lived ear you- How many times were you available to go get him? (Answer: 0)After all you were conveniently located 5 minutes from his school, I on the other hand was 45 minutes away at work. Oh and while we are on the subject of you resenting me for moving to closer to where I work (I just want to make sure you can continue to justify your selfishness) Here's another trivia question. When our son and I were living in your town how many times did you sleep through parent teacher conferences or forget about it all together because our son is in all actuality not a priority of yours? (Answer: 3) Let's go for the next trivia question. When he did sleep at your house during the week, how many times did I get notes sent home the next day that his homework was not completed or that he had been tardy to school that morning? (Answer: I lost count after the 18th) You see being Tyler's mother means that there is no room for fuck ups or mistakes, I have to stay sharp so I can pick up the slack and be held accountable to cover up for yours.
Going back to the joint parenting agreement; Did you ever get the $ 250,000 life insurance policy with me as the beneficiary? (I want proof and can deliver proof that I saw that through). I know you will be inclined to pull a dick move with this one and put our son as the beneficiary but it really isn't smart to put anyone under the age of 18 as a beneficiary as it can't be paid out to a minor. (Feel free to ask Mike -your step father and life insurance agent about this one). You fought pretty hard for "Fathers Rights" during the process of the joint parenting agreement Jack, exactly what rights were you fighting for. As far as I can see, in the last year and a half you have exercised your right to the "All Glory no Guts" clause that is evidently only on the papers you received because I can't seem to find it on mine.
In the 2 school years that have started since our son and I moved you have asked for his school schedule of days off, and I have delivered within 24 hours of your request. Did you ever bother to look at it? Have you ever been proactive and said "I know our son has Monday off school, I'd like to have him an extra day after all I work from home and I'd like the extra time with him?" Or did you just shuffle it into a pile somewhere never to be seen again so that you can play the stupid card and be oblivious to your son's schedule? A perfect example of this quality in you is his Yellow Belt test. We have had 1 meeting with the people at his Karate school at which time the Sensei told us both that the testing date is February 23rd. When I brought it up this past week (along with the suggestion that he stay with me the night before because it really didn't make sense for you to pick him up Friday only to have to be back out in our town the next morning…foresight – sure would be nice if you had the same courtesy for me) you were completely oblivious and acted like it was the first time you were hearing it. Once again proving that what is going on in our sons life is not important enough for you to remember. I realize your head is consumed with your DUI court date on the 21st. You need to understand that your fuck ups are your fuck ups and our son should not have to suffer for them.
I personally do not believe that you were working at the bar that night, I think that is the fastest lie you could come up with to cover your ass and make yourself look like less of a slug by saying work was attached to it. That being said, and this being your 2nd DUI…just how many signs do you need that it is time to grow the fuck up? The problem I have with how your family deals with your legal issues is that they just pay your way out of your screw ups and you only repeat the mistakes. No one ever holds you accountable for your actions and you get out of them so easily that you never learn how to take accountability.
You have called me on several occasions to let me know you could not take our son on your scheduled weekends for business travel weekends (it's a crap shoot how many time "business" has been the true reason) and never have you tried to make up the time with him…most certainly that would get in the way of your social schedule the following weekend…and we wouldn't want to let your friends down now would we? I vividly recall you asking me to cover one of your weekends so you could join Jeff C. on a men's retreat to better yourself, what did you ever do with that? I have no problem covering for you especially if it will make you a better person but my putting in parenting overtime so you could go learn more creative ways to fit your head up your ass really doesn't constitute making you a better person. I also recall having to leave an appointment early so that I could drive into Chicago and pick up our son because your Peter Pan graduation was more important than your sick son.
I have had a lot to say in this e-mail Jack and I know you like to ponder issues for so long that you are able to avoid that there are any but I am not going to tolerate that. I want from you in the next 48 hours the following:
1.) Pick Tuesday or Thursday (his schedule is booked up on Monday's and Wednesdays) to be the night that you spend time with our son so you can start acting like an actively involved responsible parent. Whichever night you choose is fine with me. I expect you to pick him up from after school care at 4:00 and drop him off at home no later than 9:00 keep in mind that his homework need to be done while you are spending quality time with him. There is a movie theater not far from here, a bowling alley, restaurants and Odyssey fun world. I really don't care what your softball schedule is in the spring, summer or fall as part of being a parent means willingly sacrificing…put on your big boy cup and deal with it.
2.) I want proof that the beneficiary on a $ 250,000 life insurance policy is me. (This was supposed to be handled 4 years ago and since your step father wrote the policy on you it shouldn't be a problem for you to produce proof.)
3.) A list of your priorities by way of how you live your life (I would like to see where our son falls on it and if he shows up in the top position you are just kidding yourself and I know your tactics too well to be bullshitted).
4.) A copy of your W-2's for 2007. No offense but based on your track record I just really don't trust you (and you have done nothing but remind me of how I shouldn't). You might as well include all the copies of the cancelled child support checks too- this way we will both be in possession of the same information if there are any discrepancies.
5.) I want you to write our son a letter mapping out the kind of father you want to be to him, how important he is to you and what you are going to do to make it happen going forward (expect to be held accountable). The one thing you cannot get back is time Jack and if you continue on the path you are on it will only be a matter of time until he will get wise to the fact that the only thing important to Jack Ass is Jack Ass (something you never did to your own father and that somehow makes your piss poor performance as our sons father ok.) Keep in mind that he does have half my DNA and if you continue the way you have for the last 18 months the day will come when he realizes that he has no use for you because you never created one.
Any male can be a father Jack start living your life like you deserve the privilege of being his Dad.
None of these points are up for discussion, only action.
I will be awaiting your response by 10:00 Wednesday, February 13th. I am going to send you an IM right now letting you know there is something important for you to read.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
To my readers:
Now...how was that for an honest e-mail? Stay tuned.
Now you know that our conversation on Friday about how it was your weekend to have our son and you were having trouble finding a sitter for him so you could go to Katie Your friend from high school's wife of 6 years 40th birthday party wasn't over. I know how much you do not like being held accountable for your actions or responsibilities but this time you have gone too far.
I want you to imagine the look on our sons face when you called back and asked him…"Do I have you tomorrow night?" Are you that insensitive or that stupid? After he answered you and you hung up he looked at me and said "I think he forgot that he has me this weekend". That (and your blatant disrespect for the time that is allotted for you to spend with your son) is what triggered the ass reaming you got from me. Do you realize that since January 1st you have spent more time with Sonia than you have your son? (And in order to do that there has to be days off work for you and an airplane involved.) It has become quite apparent that our son is not one of your priorities Jack and that just makes you a heartless asshole. We do have a Legal Joint Parenting agreement in place and going forward I am no longer going to let you off the hook from it. I understand that in your selfish mind driving to my new home 34 miles away once a week on a Wednesday (which was the original day we agreed upon to be your visitation day) to see your son and exercise the "fathers rights" that you snowballed your lawyer into thinking were important to you and to fight so hard for is an inconvenience for you. Makes me wonder…how inconvenient can it possibly be to schedule that day to be done with work and get to our sons school at 3:30 when the traffic isn't so bad. You work from home so it can't be inconvenient to make phone calls from your car. You tend bar when you are needed during the week in the city, which keeps you up until 4:30 in the morning (that certainly can't be convenient when you have to get up and sell surgical implants all day – Oh that's right you mentioned that you don't schedule much on the days after you bar tend because you are tired). Why is it that you have a flexible schedule for everyone except our son? Or is that just your way of raising the bar a smidge bit higher than your own father did where parenting skills are concerned? (FYI you would still be army crawling under the proverbial bar).
I'd like to give you a glimpse into my world. First I will give you an analogy of what it is like to be me and then I will map out what a typical week looks like (keep in mind that our son being sick, snow days, doctors appointments and possibly having to run an appointment (yes I have a job) at night are not included.
Analogy of my life and how I am handling it until some much needed changes happen:The best way for me to explain my life right now is to ask you to imagine a baseball game. One team has 9 players and the other team has 1. The team with 1 player plays every position on the field. That team with 1 player is me. It is impossible to play every position and I have come to terms with that so basically what I am doing is sitting on the pitcher's mound in protest. I am not fielding any balls, nor am I giving up the ball for anyone to throw in the air and fire line drives at my head.
A typical week without any extra's added in:
M-W-F, get up get our son to school. Work until 5:00 pick him up, feed him a snack, drop him at Karate, pick him up from Karate, make him dinner, home work: he needs to read to me for 20 minutes, spelling, math, geography and 15 minutes of math on the math website. This usually brings us to about 8:30
Tuesday: same morning routine and day with the exception of I have to be at the office until 7:00 (per my idiot boss, not my idea). Our son's daycare ends at 6:00. Sometimes I can count on Megan from day care taking our son to her house and I pick him up from there at 7:15 get home by 7:35 make dinner, do the same homework routine. (On the days Megan can't do it I pick him up and bring him to the office to sit in a cubical by himself while I participate in the call night). This day has gone as late as 10:00.
Thursday: This is the one day of the week that ends by 7:30. In all honesty, I do not take phone calls on this night because by this point of the week there isn't much left of me and all I want to do it muster up enough strength to get through the next day. Make sure our son is ready for his spelling test and any other end of the week tests he may have.
Weekends: I like to get things done on the weekends that I don't have time to do during the week. I like to be on my own schedule as all I get to do all week long is be on everyone else's. I refuse to let our son live in filth so cleaning the house is important. I get 4 days a month to make plans whether they are social or just to let my mind go to mush to make sure I have enough in me to get through the next 2 weeks until I get to be Lauren (Just Lauren) again. I haven't had a babysitter for him (for any social time for me)while he has been in 3rd grade as the work is more challenging and I need to make sure he is staying focused.
Money right now is extremely tight (although notice I haven't asked you for anything additional, as a matter of fact I handle about $ 150 a month of additional expenses that pop up where our son is concerned that I never ask you to split with me). In return for not bothering you for knit picky and petty things I get in return from you being punished for moving closer to where I work so I can get to our son quickly in case he gets sick at school (it happened 7 times when we lived ear you- How many times were you available to go get him? (Answer: 0)After all you were conveniently located 5 minutes from his school, I on the other hand was 45 minutes away at work. Oh and while we are on the subject of you resenting me for moving to closer to where I work (I just want to make sure you can continue to justify your selfishness) Here's another trivia question. When our son and I were living in your town how many times did you sleep through parent teacher conferences or forget about it all together because our son is in all actuality not a priority of yours? (Answer: 3) Let's go for the next trivia question. When he did sleep at your house during the week, how many times did I get notes sent home the next day that his homework was not completed or that he had been tardy to school that morning? (Answer: I lost count after the 18th) You see being Tyler's mother means that there is no room for fuck ups or mistakes, I have to stay sharp so I can pick up the slack and be held accountable to cover up for yours.
Going back to the joint parenting agreement; Did you ever get the $ 250,000 life insurance policy with me as the beneficiary? (I want proof and can deliver proof that I saw that through). I know you will be inclined to pull a dick move with this one and put our son as the beneficiary but it really isn't smart to put anyone under the age of 18 as a beneficiary as it can't be paid out to a minor. (Feel free to ask Mike -your step father and life insurance agent about this one). You fought pretty hard for "Fathers Rights" during the process of the joint parenting agreement Jack, exactly what rights were you fighting for. As far as I can see, in the last year and a half you have exercised your right to the "All Glory no Guts" clause that is evidently only on the papers you received because I can't seem to find it on mine.
In the 2 school years that have started since our son and I moved you have asked for his school schedule of days off, and I have delivered within 24 hours of your request. Did you ever bother to look at it? Have you ever been proactive and said "I know our son has Monday off school, I'd like to have him an extra day after all I work from home and I'd like the extra time with him?" Or did you just shuffle it into a pile somewhere never to be seen again so that you can play the stupid card and be oblivious to your son's schedule? A perfect example of this quality in you is his Yellow Belt test. We have had 1 meeting with the people at his Karate school at which time the Sensei told us both that the testing date is February 23rd. When I brought it up this past week (along with the suggestion that he stay with me the night before because it really didn't make sense for you to pick him up Friday only to have to be back out in our town the next morning…foresight – sure would be nice if you had the same courtesy for me) you were completely oblivious and acted like it was the first time you were hearing it. Once again proving that what is going on in our sons life is not important enough for you to remember. I realize your head is consumed with your DUI court date on the 21st. You need to understand that your fuck ups are your fuck ups and our son should not have to suffer for them.
I personally do not believe that you were working at the bar that night, I think that is the fastest lie you could come up with to cover your ass and make yourself look like less of a slug by saying work was attached to it. That being said, and this being your 2nd DUI…just how many signs do you need that it is time to grow the fuck up? The problem I have with how your family deals with your legal issues is that they just pay your way out of your screw ups and you only repeat the mistakes. No one ever holds you accountable for your actions and you get out of them so easily that you never learn how to take accountability.
You have called me on several occasions to let me know you could not take our son on your scheduled weekends for business travel weekends (it's a crap shoot how many time "business" has been the true reason) and never have you tried to make up the time with him…most certainly that would get in the way of your social schedule the following weekend…and we wouldn't want to let your friends down now would we? I vividly recall you asking me to cover one of your weekends so you could join Jeff C. on a men's retreat to better yourself, what did you ever do with that? I have no problem covering for you especially if it will make you a better person but my putting in parenting overtime so you could go learn more creative ways to fit your head up your ass really doesn't constitute making you a better person. I also recall having to leave an appointment early so that I could drive into Chicago and pick up our son because your Peter Pan graduation was more important than your sick son.
I have had a lot to say in this e-mail Jack and I know you like to ponder issues for so long that you are able to avoid that there are any but I am not going to tolerate that. I want from you in the next 48 hours the following:
1.) Pick Tuesday or Thursday (his schedule is booked up on Monday's and Wednesdays) to be the night that you spend time with our son so you can start acting like an actively involved responsible parent. Whichever night you choose is fine with me. I expect you to pick him up from after school care at 4:00 and drop him off at home no later than 9:00 keep in mind that his homework need to be done while you are spending quality time with him. There is a movie theater not far from here, a bowling alley, restaurants and Odyssey fun world. I really don't care what your softball schedule is in the spring, summer or fall as part of being a parent means willingly sacrificing…put on your big boy cup and deal with it.
2.) I want proof that the beneficiary on a $ 250,000 life insurance policy is me. (This was supposed to be handled 4 years ago and since your step father wrote the policy on you it shouldn't be a problem for you to produce proof.)
3.) A list of your priorities by way of how you live your life (I would like to see where our son falls on it and if he shows up in the top position you are just kidding yourself and I know your tactics too well to be bullshitted).
4.) A copy of your W-2's for 2007. No offense but based on your track record I just really don't trust you (and you have done nothing but remind me of how I shouldn't). You might as well include all the copies of the cancelled child support checks too- this way we will both be in possession of the same information if there are any discrepancies.
5.) I want you to write our son a letter mapping out the kind of father you want to be to him, how important he is to you and what you are going to do to make it happen going forward (expect to be held accountable). The one thing you cannot get back is time Jack and if you continue on the path you are on it will only be a matter of time until he will get wise to the fact that the only thing important to Jack Ass is Jack Ass (something you never did to your own father and that somehow makes your piss poor performance as our sons father ok.) Keep in mind that he does have half my DNA and if you continue the way you have for the last 18 months the day will come when he realizes that he has no use for you because you never created one.
Any male can be a father Jack start living your life like you deserve the privilege of being his Dad.
None of these points are up for discussion, only action.
I will be awaiting your response by 10:00 Wednesday, February 13th. I am going to send you an IM right now letting you know there is something important for you to read.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
To my readers:
Now...how was that for an honest e-mail? Stay tuned.
Saturday, February 9, 2008
Cellophane Belly Button
Join me back in time to September 2000. I was working in sales, had a 13 month old child and living in the city. Four months prior I had moved out of my 2 bedroom apartment and moved in with Jack (in his 1 bedroom loft). We had decided to “trial run” the “family” thing until his lease was up in late November. I had had a great year in sales and had a rather large commission check in the bank. I had decided to start looking for a house in the suburbs. I was tired of the inconvenience of finding a parking spot, bringing my son up to the loft only to have him sit there by himself while I went back down to the street to get the groceries. I hated worrying if I was going to get mugged while carrying the groceries down the street and my heart would race because my baby was left alone, albeit just for a few minutes I have enough common sense to know that things can happen in a split second.
Like clockwork Jack would not be home when I got home from the grocery store to help with the groceries or our son for that matter. I learned rather quickly that counting on him for anything that resembled commonsense or help would only cause me aggravation. A prime example of this would be the weekend I moved into his loft. We had been planning this move for a month and a half. An ex-girlfriend of his had been using his place as kind of a home base and all her clothes were in the closet that was to be mine, which I was told would be cleared out prior to moving day. When we unloaded the moving truck and I opened the closet to start unpacking my boxes and put my clothes away, it was still full…I felt the familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach. It felt like a sucker punch, followed by nausea. I was so pissed off that I wished that for just 30 seconds god would bless me with the ability to spit needles with intelligence venom in them so I could ambush him. “Umm, how long have we been planning this move?” His reply “since early April”. (FYI this was Mother’s Day weekend.) I said “OK”, picked up my purse and my keys and headed for the door. “Where are you going?” he asked. “This was your Fuck up and this is your mess to fix, I am going to Almosts place”. “I will be home in the morning and I expect that closet to be empty”. I made a bee line to Almosts place as I knew her company, a bottle of wine and chain smoking would make me feel better.
In late August I contacted a realtor and wanted to start looking at homes. The first day didn’t go well. I was amazed at how many people leave their home a pig sty while it’s being shown. I wasn’t in a hurry to buy a house, I had in my head that when I walked into the right house I would know. My realtor kept in touch over the next several weeks.
One night in late September Jack had said he was going to meet up with his old roommate for dinner. I had put the baby to bed, watched some TV and went to bed at about 9:30. I woke up at midnight and went to check the couch to see if Jack was home. He wasn’t. I called his cell phone and he didn’t answer. I actually called his cell phone every 15 minutes for the next 3 hours. Then I got worried, was he hurt? I just had a feeling that something was very wrong. It wasn’t like him to not answer the phone when I called…after all we did have a small child and if there is 1 phone call he should be answering it would be mine.
The next morning I got in the shower, got ready for work and got the baby up. The babysitter arrived at 7:00. She asked “Where’s Jack?” (You see Jack worked from home so he was always there unless he was running appointments). I told her he didn’t come home last night, handed her a piece of paper with my work number on it and told her if the police or any hospitals call looking for me to give the number to them and off to work I went. Anka looked at me like I was crazy, even a little heartless for not being an emotional mess that my son’s father was missing. I can honestly admit that it was that moment in time that I experienced one too many of his idiot decisions and the inevitable process of a heart hardening when you realize that the person you are involved with really isn’t capable of caring the way the now hardening heart can.
At about 11:00 I received a call from Tami.
“Hey girl, how are ya?”
“I am doing ok, how are you?”
“Good how are Jack and the baby?”
“The baby is good; Jack didn’t come home last night”
“What? Is he ok?”
“I don’t know. I called his cell phone until about 3:30 this morning and he wasn’t answering. I tried again this morning and it went straight to voicemail. I haven’t been contacted by any hospitals or police. My gut tells me he is fine. Although we are going to have to schedule a surgery for him."
“Surgery??? Oh my god, what’s wrong?”
“He is in serious need of a Cellophane Belly Button”
“Huh? What does that treat?"
“Well if he plans on going through life with his head up his ass, I think it might be a good idea to give the jerk a peep hole.”
Just then, my other line rang. I told Tami I had to take it in case it was him or someone with news about him. When I switched lines it was my realtor. She said she had 2 houses she wanted me to see and they were on the same street. Was it possible to meet her that afternoon? I scheduled to meet her at 2:00 in the suburbs. The first house was nice and I really liked the street. I took 3 steps into the second house and looked at her….”This is it”. I got really excited and she said “Would you like to see the rest of your house?” Within an hour I was sitting in her office signing papers and putting in an offer. She asked if Jack and I were going to buy the house together. I told her I didn’t think so but wanted to show it to him. Could we come out and see it together tomorrow? I never let on to her that he was potentially missing. I became very good at hiding what was actually going on inside me when there was work to be done or responsibilities to be handled.
I headed back to the office at about 4:00 and my cell phone rang. It was Jack.
“Sorry it took me so long to get back to you, I went out with Brian and we had too much to drink so I went back to Brian’s and fell asleep. My phone died so I couldn’t call you back when I woke up.”
Does anyone else see the hole in this story? If he fell asleep and the battery on his phone died, how did he know I had called?
He continued with “I am really sorry if I worried you.”
My response was “Glad to hear you are ok, I wasn’t worried at all. Oh and I bought a house.”
I could hear his nose getting out of joint in the silence over the phone line. I told him I had a few things I needed to finish at the office but would talk to him when I got home.
When I got home, his lazy ass was on the couch sleeping and Anka was still there. I paid her, took the baby from her and asked her what time he decided to show up? She said at about 3:30. I could only surmise whatever he and his buddy from the night before smoked, swallowed and snorted was haunting him but good and that made me happy. I was hoping he was suffering the worst day after known to man. When he heard Anka leave he sat up on the couch and wanted to attempt to dig himself out of the dog hole (he pretty much burned down the dog house and destroyed the foundation by this time in the relationship so a hole was all that was left). I remember cutting him off and telling him that we had an appointment the next day to go and see the house. He said “Aren’t we going to discuss this?” I said “What? The decisions you make without any concern for me and the baby or the ones I make in the best interest of me and the baby?”
The next morning we met the realtor at her office and she asked him if he was excited to see the house. His nose was still out of joint because I was showing strength. When he saw the house, he did like it and got on board with the idea of moving. Although little to my knowledge he had a trick up his sleeve. You see Jack is 3 different people. Jack #1 is who he portrays himself to be to his friends Jack #2 is who he portrays himself to be to his family and Jack #3 is who he actually is (if you are lucky you never get to meet #3). We headed back to the realtors office and he signed off on the documents that I had signed off on the day before. The realtor told us that she had a mortgage broker that she works with a lot and if we wanted to fill out the information page she could help get the ball rolling with the financing.
On Tuesday the realtor called me and said I have to talk to you. I said ok. She said she heard back from the mortgage broker and he told her Jack could not be on the mortgage. I asked her why? She explained that he had not filed taxes in 3 years. My jaw just about hit the floor. I said “OK, can it be done with just me on the mortgage?” I felt her smile and she said you bet it can, call the mortgage broker right now. I had my pre-approval letter and the sellers accepted my offer.
I told Jack that we got the house. They accepted the offer! He looked really confused, he was well aware that his lack of filing taxes should have stood in the way. I let him hang for a few minutes and then told him “I can do it all by myself so the fact that YOU didn’t file you taxes, didn’t affect ME one bit”. To date that is my Most Favorite FU** YOU I have ever delivered.
Like clockwork Jack would not be home when I got home from the grocery store to help with the groceries or our son for that matter. I learned rather quickly that counting on him for anything that resembled commonsense or help would only cause me aggravation. A prime example of this would be the weekend I moved into his loft. We had been planning this move for a month and a half. An ex-girlfriend of his had been using his place as kind of a home base and all her clothes were in the closet that was to be mine, which I was told would be cleared out prior to moving day. When we unloaded the moving truck and I opened the closet to start unpacking my boxes and put my clothes away, it was still full…I felt the familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach. It felt like a sucker punch, followed by nausea. I was so pissed off that I wished that for just 30 seconds god would bless me with the ability to spit needles with intelligence venom in them so I could ambush him. “Umm, how long have we been planning this move?” His reply “since early April”. (FYI this was Mother’s Day weekend.) I said “OK”, picked up my purse and my keys and headed for the door. “Where are you going?” he asked. “This was your Fuck up and this is your mess to fix, I am going to Almosts place”. “I will be home in the morning and I expect that closet to be empty”. I made a bee line to Almosts place as I knew her company, a bottle of wine and chain smoking would make me feel better.
In late August I contacted a realtor and wanted to start looking at homes. The first day didn’t go well. I was amazed at how many people leave their home a pig sty while it’s being shown. I wasn’t in a hurry to buy a house, I had in my head that when I walked into the right house I would know. My realtor kept in touch over the next several weeks.
One night in late September Jack had said he was going to meet up with his old roommate for dinner. I had put the baby to bed, watched some TV and went to bed at about 9:30. I woke up at midnight and went to check the couch to see if Jack was home. He wasn’t. I called his cell phone and he didn’t answer. I actually called his cell phone every 15 minutes for the next 3 hours. Then I got worried, was he hurt? I just had a feeling that something was very wrong. It wasn’t like him to not answer the phone when I called…after all we did have a small child and if there is 1 phone call he should be answering it would be mine.
The next morning I got in the shower, got ready for work and got the baby up. The babysitter arrived at 7:00. She asked “Where’s Jack?” (You see Jack worked from home so he was always there unless he was running appointments). I told her he didn’t come home last night, handed her a piece of paper with my work number on it and told her if the police or any hospitals call looking for me to give the number to them and off to work I went. Anka looked at me like I was crazy, even a little heartless for not being an emotional mess that my son’s father was missing. I can honestly admit that it was that moment in time that I experienced one too many of his idiot decisions and the inevitable process of a heart hardening when you realize that the person you are involved with really isn’t capable of caring the way the now hardening heart can.
At about 11:00 I received a call from Tami.
“Hey girl, how are ya?”
“I am doing ok, how are you?”
“Good how are Jack and the baby?”
“The baby is good; Jack didn’t come home last night”
“What? Is he ok?”
“I don’t know. I called his cell phone until about 3:30 this morning and he wasn’t answering. I tried again this morning and it went straight to voicemail. I haven’t been contacted by any hospitals or police. My gut tells me he is fine. Although we are going to have to schedule a surgery for him."
“Surgery??? Oh my god, what’s wrong?”
“He is in serious need of a Cellophane Belly Button”
“Huh? What does that treat?"
“Well if he plans on going through life with his head up his ass, I think it might be a good idea to give the jerk a peep hole.”
Just then, my other line rang. I told Tami I had to take it in case it was him or someone with news about him. When I switched lines it was my realtor. She said she had 2 houses she wanted me to see and they were on the same street. Was it possible to meet her that afternoon? I scheduled to meet her at 2:00 in the suburbs. The first house was nice and I really liked the street. I took 3 steps into the second house and looked at her….”This is it”. I got really excited and she said “Would you like to see the rest of your house?” Within an hour I was sitting in her office signing papers and putting in an offer. She asked if Jack and I were going to buy the house together. I told her I didn’t think so but wanted to show it to him. Could we come out and see it together tomorrow? I never let on to her that he was potentially missing. I became very good at hiding what was actually going on inside me when there was work to be done or responsibilities to be handled.
I headed back to the office at about 4:00 and my cell phone rang. It was Jack.
“Sorry it took me so long to get back to you, I went out with Brian and we had too much to drink so I went back to Brian’s and fell asleep. My phone died so I couldn’t call you back when I woke up.”
Does anyone else see the hole in this story? If he fell asleep and the battery on his phone died, how did he know I had called?
He continued with “I am really sorry if I worried you.”
My response was “Glad to hear you are ok, I wasn’t worried at all. Oh and I bought a house.”
I could hear his nose getting out of joint in the silence over the phone line. I told him I had a few things I needed to finish at the office but would talk to him when I got home.
When I got home, his lazy ass was on the couch sleeping and Anka was still there. I paid her, took the baby from her and asked her what time he decided to show up? She said at about 3:30. I could only surmise whatever he and his buddy from the night before smoked, swallowed and snorted was haunting him but good and that made me happy. I was hoping he was suffering the worst day after known to man. When he heard Anka leave he sat up on the couch and wanted to attempt to dig himself out of the dog hole (he pretty much burned down the dog house and destroyed the foundation by this time in the relationship so a hole was all that was left). I remember cutting him off and telling him that we had an appointment the next day to go and see the house. He said “Aren’t we going to discuss this?” I said “What? The decisions you make without any concern for me and the baby or the ones I make in the best interest of me and the baby?”
The next morning we met the realtor at her office and she asked him if he was excited to see the house. His nose was still out of joint because I was showing strength. When he saw the house, he did like it and got on board with the idea of moving. Although little to my knowledge he had a trick up his sleeve. You see Jack is 3 different people. Jack #1 is who he portrays himself to be to his friends Jack #2 is who he portrays himself to be to his family and Jack #3 is who he actually is (if you are lucky you never get to meet #3). We headed back to the realtors office and he signed off on the documents that I had signed off on the day before. The realtor told us that she had a mortgage broker that she works with a lot and if we wanted to fill out the information page she could help get the ball rolling with the financing.
On Tuesday the realtor called me and said I have to talk to you. I said ok. She said she heard back from the mortgage broker and he told her Jack could not be on the mortgage. I asked her why? She explained that he had not filed taxes in 3 years. My jaw just about hit the floor. I said “OK, can it be done with just me on the mortgage?” I felt her smile and she said you bet it can, call the mortgage broker right now. I had my pre-approval letter and the sellers accepted my offer.
I told Jack that we got the house. They accepted the offer! He looked really confused, he was well aware that his lack of filing taxes should have stood in the way. I let him hang for a few minutes and then told him “I can do it all by myself so the fact that YOU didn’t file you taxes, didn’t affect ME one bit”. To date that is my Most Favorite FU** YOU I have ever delivered.
Friday, February 8, 2008
How I am wired
This morning I had an appointment to have blood work done (nothing is wrong with me its standard procedure when you are on Chantix to make sure its not messing with my liver).
The doc asked me how I was feeling being on the drug. Umm, I am relaxed. Almost too relaxed, like to the point that I will not allow myself to get stressed about ANYTHING! This is very strange for me because to say I have a Type A personality is like saying Britney Spears is a well balanced person. I (on a normal day) can be driven to the point of my head feeling like its going to explode just by someone throwing my schedule off by 5 minutes.
For instance my biggest pet peeve is when people make me wait. I can’t tell you how many times I have had the same conversation in my head while looking at someone straight in the eyes who has made plans with me and has shown up 30 minutes late and said… “Sorry, excuse, excuse, excuse. Blah, Blah, Blah, have you been waiting long?” My way of handling this is to just move past it “No, not a problem”, because lets face it unless this person has a cellophane belly button, chances are they wont be able to see this behavior as a flaw in their character. What I say in my head somewhat resembles the thought process of Jan Brady in the Brady Bunch movie “Marcia, Marcia, Marcia, Why is it always about Marcia.”
My personal thought process goes a lot like this…”Have I been waiting long? Yes I have been waiting exactly 30 minutes, which was right about the time you texted me letting me know you were just leaving. I thought highly enough of you to hire a babysitter, get my sons homework done, get myself ready, get my son fed, stop at the cash station and arrive at our determined destination on time….and you? Let me answer that, you think of no one but yourself, evidently you think that your time is so much more valuable than mine is, after all why shouldn’t it be? Must be one of the perks of being you. Mean while you being selfish, self centered and inconsiderate just cost me $ 10 in babysitters fees so Thank you for not holding me in the same regard that I hold you…but by all means get on your cell phone so I can sit here and listen to you have a conversation with someone other than me and don’t forget at the end of the night to tell me that you didn’t get a chance to get to the cash station because you were running late.” (I just read what I wrote and I so sound like a Dunkin Donuts radio commercial).
I haven’t been out in quite a while just because taking care of my son and work has been kicking my ass. (Although work is something else I can’t see to get worked up about, thanks to Chantix). I watch my co-workers get all spun out of control about their quota and I have just come to the conclusion that I don’t care anymore. I haven’t developed a bad attitude inside the work building; as a matter of fact I try to keep things light and cheerful. Although I have become stubborn, I won’t budge.
For instance, my least favorite customer just purchased a new car and called me for a quote to add it to his current policy. (Keep in mind that this customer has called me on every vacation I have ever gone on since I signed him and at least 5 times at 11:00 at night expecting me to be able to talk about quotes that I sent him….Yeah ok asshole believe it or not I don’t take my work computer to bed with me.) He asked me if there was anything I could do to bring the rate down…my thought “Sure, let me waive my magic wand and make you a better driver and improve your credit score.” What I should have done is explained that the rate is based on credit score and driving history and this is the rate that he is eligible for. What I did say was “No, Apollo, I hear from you more than I do my own mother. I have counseled you at 11:00 at night and spoken to you while I have been vacation, you do not respect boundaries that I too have a life. I would not drop your rate if I could because you already have made sure I work for every dime of commission I made off of selling the policy to you.” When we hung up the phone I should have felt bad or something but all I kept hoping was that he would call and cancel his policy and for the love of Carbs…lose my number!
Maybe that’s the Chantix turning on the Will Power in my brain or perhaps I have just reached a breaking point as to what I will and will not tolerate in my life. While I am sure a lot of people in my life are not going to respond well to my new way of doing things. I feel better about it, and you know what? I matter to me.
The doc asked me how I was feeling being on the drug. Umm, I am relaxed. Almost too relaxed, like to the point that I will not allow myself to get stressed about ANYTHING! This is very strange for me because to say I have a Type A personality is like saying Britney Spears is a well balanced person. I (on a normal day) can be driven to the point of my head feeling like its going to explode just by someone throwing my schedule off by 5 minutes.
For instance my biggest pet peeve is when people make me wait. I can’t tell you how many times I have had the same conversation in my head while looking at someone straight in the eyes who has made plans with me and has shown up 30 minutes late and said… “Sorry, excuse, excuse, excuse. Blah, Blah, Blah, have you been waiting long?” My way of handling this is to just move past it “No, not a problem”, because lets face it unless this person has a cellophane belly button, chances are they wont be able to see this behavior as a flaw in their character. What I say in my head somewhat resembles the thought process of Jan Brady in the Brady Bunch movie “Marcia, Marcia, Marcia, Why is it always about Marcia.”
My personal thought process goes a lot like this…”Have I been waiting long? Yes I have been waiting exactly 30 minutes, which was right about the time you texted me letting me know you were just leaving. I thought highly enough of you to hire a babysitter, get my sons homework done, get myself ready, get my son fed, stop at the cash station and arrive at our determined destination on time….and you? Let me answer that, you think of no one but yourself, evidently you think that your time is so much more valuable than mine is, after all why shouldn’t it be? Must be one of the perks of being you. Mean while you being selfish, self centered and inconsiderate just cost me $ 10 in babysitters fees so Thank you for not holding me in the same regard that I hold you…but by all means get on your cell phone so I can sit here and listen to you have a conversation with someone other than me and don’t forget at the end of the night to tell me that you didn’t get a chance to get to the cash station because you were running late.” (I just read what I wrote and I so sound like a Dunkin Donuts radio commercial).
I haven’t been out in quite a while just because taking care of my son and work has been kicking my ass. (Although work is something else I can’t see to get worked up about, thanks to Chantix). I watch my co-workers get all spun out of control about their quota and I have just come to the conclusion that I don’t care anymore. I haven’t developed a bad attitude inside the work building; as a matter of fact I try to keep things light and cheerful. Although I have become stubborn, I won’t budge.
For instance, my least favorite customer just purchased a new car and called me for a quote to add it to his current policy. (Keep in mind that this customer has called me on every vacation I have ever gone on since I signed him and at least 5 times at 11:00 at night expecting me to be able to talk about quotes that I sent him….Yeah ok asshole believe it or not I don’t take my work computer to bed with me.) He asked me if there was anything I could do to bring the rate down…my thought “Sure, let me waive my magic wand and make you a better driver and improve your credit score.” What I should have done is explained that the rate is based on credit score and driving history and this is the rate that he is eligible for. What I did say was “No, Apollo, I hear from you more than I do my own mother. I have counseled you at 11:00 at night and spoken to you while I have been vacation, you do not respect boundaries that I too have a life. I would not drop your rate if I could because you already have made sure I work for every dime of commission I made off of selling the policy to you.” When we hung up the phone I should have felt bad or something but all I kept hoping was that he would call and cancel his policy and for the love of Carbs…lose my number!
Maybe that’s the Chantix turning on the Will Power in my brain or perhaps I have just reached a breaking point as to what I will and will not tolerate in my life. While I am sure a lot of people in my life are not going to respond well to my new way of doing things. I feel better about it, and you know what? I matter to me.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Frisky Copper
About 4 years ago I was out with a group of girlfriends at a bar that was quite simply a jeans and t-shirt place. The kind of place where everyone just drinks beer, does shots, plays darts and wanders around from table to table and feeling totally comfortable doing so. About two hours into the evening we noticed a group of four thirty-something men sitting at the table next to us. By this time our table was getting a little out of control (women are so much fowler than men when they get together). As you can imagine being six of the only 10 girls in the bar we were getting a lot of attention. In my wildness I found a new use for my boobs.
Right after the invention of my personal beer holder one of the guys from the table next to us came over and sat next to me. “Got any other tricks?”, “ I am sure I do” I told him. He was cute at first, brownish hair, nice blue eyes about 5’10” (I prefer 6’ and taller but if everything else falls into place I am not stuck on the height thing- he just absolutely cannot be shorter than me). He showed me his badge, drivers license, and many other forms of Identification at the request of Tami’s cousin Kelley. He seemed to fit right in and jump through every hoop we instructed him to. As the night progressed he started asking where we were all going when we leave. I told him we were all staying at Tami’s house. He wanted to know if he could come too. I was a little taken back by his asking. He had been hanging with me and my friends for quite a while but at no point in time did I send any signals that I was “interested” in him.
I ran it past the girls and they were all fine with him coming back to Tami’s with us. So I figured, ok. Upon arriving at Tami’s everyone called their sleeping space. I called the living room as there are two couches. I figured if he planned on staying he could sleep on what ever couch I was not. Everyone congregated for a while with a few more drinks and one by one people started dispersing to their chosen sleeping space. I asked him if he was ok to drive. He said he didn’t think it would be a good idea. I said no problem and gave him a pillow and a blanket for his couch.
Upon my drifting off to sleep, I was awaken to his face in mine. I asked him what he was doing. He said he wanted to snuggle next to me. (UGH! When I am tired its best to just leave me alone.) I told him I was tired and he said I just want to snuggle you, that’s all. “Oh fine, if letting you next to me means that I get to sleep faster, then go right ahead.” That kept him happy for about 5 minutes. Then he wanted to give me a back massage. I thought to myself “What did this guy get his moves from the Homer Simpson book of How to woo a woman or what?” I told him “I’m fine thanks, now go to sleep”. Not a chance that was going to work. His hands were all over me until I finally got up and moved to the other couch. I half fell asleep again (trying to stay alert enough to shoot him down again if he was stupid enough to not take no for an answer.)
Sure enough, the next thing I knew I was awaken to the one eyed worm staring me in the face. He said “you really don’t want to mess around a little?”. I can’t even tell you the anger and fury this released inside of me. I looked up at him and said. “Now I know why you became a cop”. He said, “Why is that?”
“Because you got robbed!”
Right after the invention of my personal beer holder one of the guys from the table next to us came over and sat next to me. “Got any other tricks?”, “ I am sure I do” I told him. He was cute at first, brownish hair, nice blue eyes about 5’10” (I prefer 6’ and taller but if everything else falls into place I am not stuck on the height thing- he just absolutely cannot be shorter than me). He showed me his badge, drivers license, and many other forms of Identification at the request of Tami’s cousin Kelley. He seemed to fit right in and jump through every hoop we instructed him to. As the night progressed he started asking where we were all going when we leave. I told him we were all staying at Tami’s house. He wanted to know if he could come too. I was a little taken back by his asking. He had been hanging with me and my friends for quite a while but at no point in time did I send any signals that I was “interested” in him.
I ran it past the girls and they were all fine with him coming back to Tami’s with us. So I figured, ok. Upon arriving at Tami’s everyone called their sleeping space. I called the living room as there are two couches. I figured if he planned on staying he could sleep on what ever couch I was not. Everyone congregated for a while with a few more drinks and one by one people started dispersing to their chosen sleeping space. I asked him if he was ok to drive. He said he didn’t think it would be a good idea. I said no problem and gave him a pillow and a blanket for his couch.
Upon my drifting off to sleep, I was awaken to his face in mine. I asked him what he was doing. He said he wanted to snuggle next to me. (UGH! When I am tired its best to just leave me alone.) I told him I was tired and he said I just want to snuggle you, that’s all. “Oh fine, if letting you next to me means that I get to sleep faster, then go right ahead.” That kept him happy for about 5 minutes. Then he wanted to give me a back massage. I thought to myself “What did this guy get his moves from the Homer Simpson book of How to woo a woman or what?” I told him “I’m fine thanks, now go to sleep”. Not a chance that was going to work. His hands were all over me until I finally got up and moved to the other couch. I half fell asleep again (trying to stay alert enough to shoot him down again if he was stupid enough to not take no for an answer.)
Sure enough, the next thing I knew I was awaken to the one eyed worm staring me in the face. He said “you really don’t want to mess around a little?”. I can’t even tell you the anger and fury this released inside of me. I looked up at him and said. “Now I know why you became a cop”. He said, “Why is that?”
“Because you got robbed!”
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Dr. God Complex
I have been thinking about how to put my thoughts and feelings on paper now for a few days. I received a call from my mom on Friday morning and she let me know that my grandmother (the hot one) was in the hospital. It’s very strange but the whole week prior to this every time I would see my mom’s phone number come up on caller ID I would want to jump out of my skin thinking she was calling with bad news.
This happens to me sometimes, I knew the last time I spoke to my great grandmother was the last time I would ever speak to her. I had a dream once that one of my girlfriends’ boyfriend had an accident, the next morning I told her my dream and she said you have no idea how weird that is, he did in fact get into an accident last night.
The problem with this half gift is that if I try to look for a feeling or a sense about how something will work out...I don’t come up with anything.
Back to my story…my dad left for the East Coast on Sunday morning to help my Uncle and Grandfather take care of getting my grandmother where she needs to be in order to get better. After getting all the facts as to why she is in the hospital it appears that she is suffering from a Psychotic state induced by her doctor which has her taking 20 different medications. When I asked my mom what meds my grandmother was taking, she read me off a list that completely confused me. Vicodin, for back pain, Zanax for nerves, something to make her sleep, something to keep her awake, Morpohine, something to treat ADHD the list went on and on. My mouth was hanging open and all I could think of was “What the F***”.
Was he trying to kill her while making his Pharm reps happy because he was writing prescriptions for their drugs while getting a free lunch everyday? Does he have a garage full of Ping golf clubs? Does he think his “God Complex Degree” from the University of Somewhere Overseas gives him the right to be careless with what he prescribes? Has he lost touch with why he got into medicine to begin with? Or perhaps the perks ARE why he signed up. I personally don’t think Doctors who are educated in other country’s should be allowed to practice medicine in the U.S. – but that is just my opinion, you don’t need to agree with me and I promise not to attempt to sway you. I also refuse to go to a male gynecologist because what does a man really know about the experience of having female equipment? Answer: About as much as a female knows about the male experience.
This morning when I spoke to my dad he told me the hospital thought that my grandmother could be released tomorrow. What we all want is for her to be transferred into a psychiatric facility to detox her and figure out what medications she actually needs. My guess is Dr. God Complex Degree is once again not looking out for her best interest. The problem here is, how do you override the doctors decision? How do you convince him that what he is doing is wrong? Obveously no one wants to tick him off or embarrass him in front of his colleagues because god knows what the ramifications of that would be.
My dad did say she is still not herself and definitely is still not thinking clearly.
Although she is irritated with the chipping polish on her nails and the gray roots in her hair….these ARE good signs.
This happens to me sometimes, I knew the last time I spoke to my great grandmother was the last time I would ever speak to her. I had a dream once that one of my girlfriends’ boyfriend had an accident, the next morning I told her my dream and she said you have no idea how weird that is, he did in fact get into an accident last night.
The problem with this half gift is that if I try to look for a feeling or a sense about how something will work out...I don’t come up with anything.
Back to my story…my dad left for the East Coast on Sunday morning to help my Uncle and Grandfather take care of getting my grandmother where she needs to be in order to get better. After getting all the facts as to why she is in the hospital it appears that she is suffering from a Psychotic state induced by her doctor which has her taking 20 different medications. When I asked my mom what meds my grandmother was taking, she read me off a list that completely confused me. Vicodin, for back pain, Zanax for nerves, something to make her sleep, something to keep her awake, Morpohine, something to treat ADHD the list went on and on. My mouth was hanging open and all I could think of was “What the F***”.
Was he trying to kill her while making his Pharm reps happy because he was writing prescriptions for their drugs while getting a free lunch everyday? Does he have a garage full of Ping golf clubs? Does he think his “God Complex Degree” from the University of Somewhere Overseas gives him the right to be careless with what he prescribes? Has he lost touch with why he got into medicine to begin with? Or perhaps the perks ARE why he signed up. I personally don’t think Doctors who are educated in other country’s should be allowed to practice medicine in the U.S. – but that is just my opinion, you don’t need to agree with me and I promise not to attempt to sway you. I also refuse to go to a male gynecologist because what does a man really know about the experience of having female equipment? Answer: About as much as a female knows about the male experience.
This morning when I spoke to my dad he told me the hospital thought that my grandmother could be released tomorrow. What we all want is for her to be transferred into a psychiatric facility to detox her and figure out what medications she actually needs. My guess is Dr. God Complex Degree is once again not looking out for her best interest. The problem here is, how do you override the doctors decision? How do you convince him that what he is doing is wrong? Obveously no one wants to tick him off or embarrass him in front of his colleagues because god knows what the ramifications of that would be.
My dad did say she is still not herself and definitely is still not thinking clearly.
Although she is irritated with the chipping polish on her nails and the gray roots in her hair….these ARE good signs.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)