So, tonight I am proud of myself. A while back, Embarq pissed us off, and we called and told them to shove everything up their butt, except the internet, because we still need it for work. Well, having picked up on the fact that we weren't too happy.....they sent us a free code for restaurant.com. Oh yeah. So, we went to eat tonight. I'd only been once, and since they're at the country club now, I figured their prices had doubled. Wrong! I didn't think we'de have much trouble using that up, but we did.....in order to use that $25, we had to order $35 worth of food. By the time we got tax on it and everything, it was $39 somthing...oh well, ya know? For that, jordan had their smoked salmon dinner and I had their loaded baked potato and mac and cheese. In addition, there is, sitting in the fridge right now, a bunt end dinner, a mequite chicken salad and an extra side of baked beans. In addition, it was OU night at the potters wheel, and we each got $5 to spend there.
Pretty Sweet savings huh?
So that was really long to get to this....I'm driving back, in the dark, in the rain...rolling into town...with my music blaring (from my one front passenger speaker that actually works in my ghetto-mobile), and what am I blaring? Patsy Cline. Oh yeah, Sweet Dreams. How many 21 yr olds can say that one? Pimpin' Patsy in my ghetto car. lol So, I was wondering, whats the best, "uncool" song you love?
And now the thoughtful portion of our show....I was loading the dishwasher, when I had a mini-revelation. I take our blessings for granted. I hate doing dishes. I mean, HATE. I would rather clean the toilet than do dishes. But I am blessed, because I have a working dishwasher. And I was sitting there, loading my dishwasher, thinking how I hated having to handle the icky dishes to put them there, and I was horrified at myself. not even a month ago, I was still washing those nasty things by hand every other night. I hope I never become so spoiled that I forget what a blessing it is to have a dishwasher. I don't ever want to be that spoiled and comfortable that I just get used to my life and take it for granted. I think we all have problems with that though. We get frustrated at inconvenience, but don't realize what a blessing that inconvenience is, or how thankful we should be for it. It reminds me of a decorative plate my mom used to have hanging above her stove:
"Thank God for dirty dishes. They have a tale to tell. For while others are going hungry, we are eating very well!"
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Duty
How much in our lives do we do because of the sense of duty? I do dishes, make dinner and watch action movies most days out of a sense of duty. Granted, on a certain level, I enjoy all of that occasionally. (Action movies more often, I like them. Just...a chick flick once in a while is too much to ask without a temper tantrum?) But what do we do, just because of duty?
I go to work to a job I dislike intensely because I have a duty to pay my bills. (And I like having internet & electricity.)
I see my husband's friends out of duty, to respect him, and because a couple of them are really nice. The rest is purely because I love my husband. Or I would openly loathe a couple of the guys.
I attend funerals out of duty. I hate them...they are rarely to actuallly honor and remember the dead. It's a show to the public that you cared about that person so that you are thought well of. Its rarely for the family. I've been though it enough to know that family would rather forget about a funeral. They do it out of duty to the "public."
I swallow my pride out of duty. How many times am I going to be told, "I just don't think you realize how much I do for you," before I come unglued about how I GAVE UP MY JOB and took a JOB I HATE because he wanted me to? Hmmmm? But no, I swallow my pride and don't start THAT fight.
Can you tell it's been one of those nights? *shoots and evil glare at the office* If I could put a bullet through the speakers and through Nickelback right now, I totally would. (Side of a Bullet is playing....WAY too loudly...just to provide some background on that one.)
Don't get me wrong, life is pretty dang good all in all....but there has been way too much testosterone lately. The only part of my job I enjoy is that I work with a couple of very nice ladies. Unfortuneately, I don't have much in common with either of them.
Oh, I officially graduate in May....with a degreen in Communications....emphasis in Radio Broadcasting and Public Relations. Did you know that included web development??? Neither did I. In any case, you should check out the center of my work existance lately. Not that anyone appreciates that either. So far, I get "I hate this" "Why do we have to do this, I don't want to have to learn anything know" and "this needs to be changed." So, let me know what you think. Constructive criticisms please. Don't just automatically hate it because you disapprove of my employment for that company or because you have an innate fear of change. Also keep in mind that it's a template...I'm limited in my creativity.
OK, I feel better now. At any rate, I desperately need a girl's night. I'm drowning in testosterone. I usually get along better with guys actually.....but sometimes I just need my girls.
I go to work to a job I dislike intensely because I have a duty to pay my bills. (And I like having internet & electricity.)
I see my husband's friends out of duty, to respect him, and because a couple of them are really nice. The rest is purely because I love my husband. Or I would openly loathe a couple of the guys.
I attend funerals out of duty. I hate them...they are rarely to actuallly honor and remember the dead. It's a show to the public that you cared about that person so that you are thought well of. Its rarely for the family. I've been though it enough to know that family would rather forget about a funeral. They do it out of duty to the "public."
I swallow my pride out of duty. How many times am I going to be told, "I just don't think you realize how much I do for you," before I come unglued about how I GAVE UP MY JOB and took a JOB I HATE because he wanted me to? Hmmmm? But no, I swallow my pride and don't start THAT fight.
Can you tell it's been one of those nights? *shoots and evil glare at the office* If I could put a bullet through the speakers and through Nickelback right now, I totally would. (Side of a Bullet is playing....WAY too loudly...just to provide some background on that one.)
Don't get me wrong, life is pretty dang good all in all....but there has been way too much testosterone lately. The only part of my job I enjoy is that I work with a couple of very nice ladies. Unfortuneately, I don't have much in common with either of them.
Oh, I officially graduate in May....with a degreen in Communications....emphasis in Radio Broadcasting and Public Relations. Did you know that included web development??? Neither did I. In any case, you should check out the center of my work existance lately. Not that anyone appreciates that either. So far, I get "I hate this" "Why do we have to do this, I don't want to have to learn anything know" and "this needs to be changed." So, let me know what you think. Constructive criticisms please. Don't just automatically hate it because you disapprove of my employment for that company or because you have an innate fear of change. Also keep in mind that it's a template...I'm limited in my creativity.
OK, I feel better now. At any rate, I desperately need a girl's night. I'm drowning in testosterone. I usually get along better with guys actually.....but sometimes I just need my girls.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Monday, February 2, 2009
Friday, January 30, 2009
Mistake
I hate working here. I should have listened to my better judgement and not just started working here because I needed the money.
I hate working with my boss.
I hate working with my husband.
The only thing that I like is the paycheck and that's not even worth it.
I hate working with my boss.
I hate working with my husband.
The only thing that I like is the paycheck and that's not even worth it.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Bah-Humbug!
Today sucks. I have no idea why, it just does. Even chocolate hasn't helped.
I keep almost crying at work for no good reason. I just hate today. Sigh.
I keep almost crying at work for no good reason. I just hate today. Sigh.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Rest Room Rumba
So while walking around the farm show in St. Joseph Missouri, I thought a blog about a certain timeless, classic dance was in order. It tends to be a ladies' only dance, one that the male sex of the species could never appreciate.
It begins at a line dance. You move to your position in line, smile politely and nod to the person in front of you to let them know that you recognize your position in this dance, and you begin the first step of the dance - shift from foot to foot.
As the ladies in the line move forward, you bide your time, continuing to shift from foot to foot, demonstrating your anticipation to participate in this honored ritual. As you can, you step forward. Your steps form a pattern - shift shift shift shift forward. shift shift shift shift forward.
Soon you've worked your way forward and you reach the beginning of the line. Now it is time to begin the variation to your dance. Your patience has it's rewards - it is now your time to step forward and enter one of the holy rooms. You approach cautiously, still maintaining your pattern, but in a quickened fashion.
Stop and peer cautiously around the edge of the door and peer into the holy room. Check for any foulness or otherwise unholy material that might foul your experience.
Once you have deemed the room worthy of holding your experiences, enter the room and shut the door behind you, so that it might be a private ritual.
I won't go into the exact process of the ritual. It's a personal experience that must be performed as you feel the urge to do so.
When finished with your ritual, clear it of any unholy materials that may have appeared and exit the room. Move past the line of ladies so that the next lady in line may do her own version of the Rest Room Rumba and have her own personal ritual.
It begins at a line dance. You move to your position in line, smile politely and nod to the person in front of you to let them know that you recognize your position in this dance, and you begin the first step of the dance - shift from foot to foot.
As the ladies in the line move forward, you bide your time, continuing to shift from foot to foot, demonstrating your anticipation to participate in this honored ritual. As you can, you step forward. Your steps form a pattern - shift shift shift shift forward. shift shift shift shift forward.
Soon you've worked your way forward and you reach the beginning of the line. Now it is time to begin the variation to your dance. Your patience has it's rewards - it is now your time to step forward and enter one of the holy rooms. You approach cautiously, still maintaining your pattern, but in a quickened fashion.
Stop and peer cautiously around the edge of the door and peer into the holy room. Check for any foulness or otherwise unholy material that might foul your experience.
Once you have deemed the room worthy of holding your experiences, enter the room and shut the door behind you, so that it might be a private ritual.
I won't go into the exact process of the ritual. It's a personal experience that must be performed as you feel the urge to do so.
When finished with your ritual, clear it of any unholy materials that may have appeared and exit the room. Move past the line of ladies so that the next lady in line may do her own version of the Rest Room Rumba and have her own personal ritual.
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