What is it about me? I love people, and a lot of people think highly of me. However, there are a lot of people that can't stand me at all. I suppose that is because I have a habit of looking at a situation very unemotionally (although I am a very emotional person), and people don't like that directness sometimes.
I am shy, although I can talk to a stump. I dunno. I can't figure it out either. But I can tell you that I have a hard time remembering faces, because I spend a lot of time looking down. As Garrison Keillor would put it, "You can tell the introverts from the extroverts right away. The introverts stare at their shoes. The extroverts stare at yours."
I love to socialize. I love to be alone.
Situations where I am the center of attention make me uncomfortable, and that is why I don't plan to attend my graduation ceremony. I can celebrate that piece of paper right anywhere (and believe me, I will...), even sitting in the audience of Cara's graduation ceremony. Which occurs (conveniently) on the self same day.
I don't know how to be mad in the correct way. I cannot express it, properly. I am always ashamed of it. I always feel that it's unjustified, even when it is not.
Life has been difficult for me, and the thing that I am proudest of is that I am not a bitter person. However, that being said, I am a very wary person, and when I discover that someone cannot be trusted, I tend to skitter away quickly, and avoid them as well as the chaos that I am sure will follow if I let them into my life. Chaos frightens me. I like order. Predictability. Change is wonderful, but I like change to be my choice.
I don't seem to fit, sometimes, and I am afraid that this college degree will mean nothing if I do not learn how to fit.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Monday, February 20, 2012
Before
Today, at the nursing home, while I did an ultrasound treatment on a woman's shoulder, we talked. She has lived all her life in the small town where I went to church, and she knows virtually everyone.
Today, she talked about the fun they used to have. She talked about Lee, and I have always know him as the elderly man who, with his wife, has held down the other end of our church pew. But this woman got dreamy eyed, and she talked about how he was a wonderful musician. "We all used to go down and sit by the river, and he would play his guitar and we would all sing. He always sang, "Old Shep" and he sang it so well that all the girls would cry." She went on to mention other names, and I recognized many of them, and imagined them young and fresh faced, sitting around a camp fire on the bank of the Conewango Creek in that still-sleepy little town
It was neat to hear how they were before they became what I know now.
When I helped her back to her room, she said, "I'm a foolish woman who likes to remember." I said, "I like to hear what you remember," and I could tell that it pleased her to hear this, although all she said was, "Just give me a tap when I talk too much. Tell me to shut up."
I handed her her oxygen tubing and made sure that her call bell was within her reach. "You'll be waiting a long time before I get tired of hearing you talk."
Today, she talked about the fun they used to have. She talked about Lee, and I have always know him as the elderly man who, with his wife, has held down the other end of our church pew. But this woman got dreamy eyed, and she talked about how he was a wonderful musician. "We all used to go down and sit by the river, and he would play his guitar and we would all sing. He always sang, "Old Shep" and he sang it so well that all the girls would cry." She went on to mention other names, and I recognized many of them, and imagined them young and fresh faced, sitting around a camp fire on the bank of the Conewango Creek in that still-sleepy little town
It was neat to hear how they were before they became what I know now.
When I helped her back to her room, she said, "I'm a foolish woman who likes to remember." I said, "I like to hear what you remember," and I could tell that it pleased her to hear this, although all she said was, "Just give me a tap when I talk too much. Tell me to shut up."
I handed her her oxygen tubing and made sure that her call bell was within her reach. "You'll be waiting a long time before I get tired of hearing you talk."
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Today at the Tractor Supply
Today, I had a few not-so-great moments at the store. I've always thought that I would keep the job always, just part time, just because I enjoy working there, but I can see that this will not work, and that makes me sad.
I had a woman with coupons, which doesn't bother me, but she had also finangled a discount on a large ticket item.. Furthermore, she had online coupons, which are always a doubtful proposition, and she had four of them, but they were authorized. On top of that, she had a 10% discount on her purchase, which I'm pretty sure that the manager did not know when he gave her the discount on her large ticket item. This strikes me as deceitful, but that's not my job, and so I kept still and rang her up.
I had a doofus who thought he was funny, but he wasn't. I smiled, but apparently that was not the kneeslapping response he expected, so he kept making odd noises and pounding on the counter telling me that I needed to wake up.
There was a dispute over lunch breaks.
It was busy.
Not a horrible day, but a pile of little aggravations can lead to a woman who's ready for the day to be done. Really.
Anyways, I was darting back to put something away, and I saw a regular customer with his children. This time he had his wife and the baby with him too, so I got to meet the whole family. We chatted a minute, and I called the kids pippermasqueaks which makes them giggle. The man suddenly said, "Are you the one who writes in the paper?" and I admitted to that. He said, "You do a good job," and I said, "Gee, thanks, it's always nice to hear that!" and then I scooted back to the register, and they continued shopping. In the end, the family came to the counter, and they had just one purchase, some Schleich chicks. The little red haired girl placed it on the counter, and I rang it up, and gave her the change from her five dollar bill. I handed her the chicks and she shyly set them back on the counter. I said, "Do you want a bag for your purchase, madam?" and her father said, "Tell her," and she said, "They're for you." She had picked through all the Schleich toys and decided that I would like the chicks the very best.
Oh, my gosh. It was the very sweetest moment, and I almost cried.
I brought those chicks home, and I set them on my yellow counter top where they match perfectly. Each morning when I make my coffee, I will see them, and I will smile and think of a little red haired girl. Each morning, I will be reminded again, that it's the small and perfect moments that make a day, that bless a life. Each day, I will set out to pass that little blessing along.
Oh, and know what? Tim was afraid to wait on that hall tree. He drove to Kane and looked at it, put half down, and will pay the other half when he picks it up Monday. Another small and perfect moment!
Now, excuse me. My beloved and I are going out for Valentine's Day. And this year, we're going to a fancy restaurant. Just because we have so very much to celebrate.
I had a woman with coupons, which doesn't bother me, but she had also finangled a discount on a large ticket item.. Furthermore, she had online coupons, which are always a doubtful proposition, and she had four of them, but they were authorized. On top of that, she had a 10% discount on her purchase, which I'm pretty sure that the manager did not know when he gave her the discount on her large ticket item. This strikes me as deceitful, but that's not my job, and so I kept still and rang her up.
I had a doofus who thought he was funny, but he wasn't. I smiled, but apparently that was not the kneeslapping response he expected, so he kept making odd noises and pounding on the counter telling me that I needed to wake up.
There was a dispute over lunch breaks.
It was busy.
Not a horrible day, but a pile of little aggravations can lead to a woman who's ready for the day to be done. Really.
Anyways, I was darting back to put something away, and I saw a regular customer with his children. This time he had his wife and the baby with him too, so I got to meet the whole family. We chatted a minute, and I called the kids pippermasqueaks which makes them giggle. The man suddenly said, "Are you the one who writes in the paper?" and I admitted to that. He said, "You do a good job," and I said, "Gee, thanks, it's always nice to hear that!" and then I scooted back to the register, and they continued shopping. In the end, the family came to the counter, and they had just one purchase, some Schleich chicks. The little red haired girl placed it on the counter, and I rang it up, and gave her the change from her five dollar bill. I handed her the chicks and she shyly set them back on the counter. I said, "Do you want a bag for your purchase, madam?" and her father said, "Tell her," and she said, "They're for you." She had picked through all the Schleich toys and decided that I would like the chicks the very best.
Oh, my gosh. It was the very sweetest moment, and I almost cried.
I brought those chicks home, and I set them on my yellow counter top where they match perfectly. Each morning when I make my coffee, I will see them, and I will smile and think of a little red haired girl. Each morning, I will be reminded again, that it's the small and perfect moments that make a day, that bless a life. Each day, I will set out to pass that little blessing along.
Oh, and know what? Tim was afraid to wait on that hall tree. He drove to Kane and looked at it, put half down, and will pay the other half when he picks it up Monday. Another small and perfect moment!
Now, excuse me. My beloved and I are going out for Valentine's Day. And this year, we're going to a fancy restaurant. Just because we have so very much to celebrate.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Socks
You know how you always end up with that bag of unmatched socks? I'm not sure how it happens but it always does. One of the enduring mysteries of life.
Anyways, we are still moving, a truck load at a time. Tonight I discovered socks. Lots of 'em.
Cara? Remember those socks you couldn't find the mates to? And you were really aggravated about the fact? I sure as heck hope you did not throw them away, because I found a mess of your socks too.
Can't shed an light on the enduring mystery, however. Those socks aren't telling me where they went. :)
Anyways, we are still moving, a truck load at a time. Tonight I discovered socks. Lots of 'em.
Cara? Remember those socks you couldn't find the mates to? And you were really aggravated about the fact? I sure as heck hope you did not throw them away, because I found a mess of your socks too.
Can't shed an light on the enduring mystery, however. Those socks aren't telling me where they went. :)
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