Filling up the tank

I have morphed into a well-paid typist and I was never that good of a typist. But there you have it. And I have started filling up my gas tank when it's half full. It seems less painful that way. Speaking of half full, my boss at 78 is probably driving on half full and I am travelling in his fumes. More on that next time - I promise.

Unrelated thoughts
-Seen at a landscaping store: 'Unattended children will be given a capuccino and a free puppy.'
-Seen at a pet store: 'Children should be on a lease at all times (something like that).'
-I don't have pretty feet.
-I found an orange, lilly like plant that grows v. close to the ground that smells like DUNG when you touch it. The beautiful orange leaves? emit at brown, sludgy slime that lasts all day even with washing.
-My adjustment to work has made me realize this is how regular working people feel - STRESSED. Yikes. There's a whole world of people out there who need care and patience.
-BIMBO. This was seen displayed prominently on a man's belly in Belmont, on a soccer/biking Euro-type of shirt.
-My mom's doctor died at 42. She doesn't know why but he died at home and she didn't think he had cancer. For some reason, this makes me feel justified sitting in the sun without sun screen. If I died tommorrow, I wouldn't regret one minute of sitting in the sun.
-A new dog would make me happy and make me feel like I have some control of my life ie. I can do what I want given the confines of the job. Also, it may? make Toto more relaxed with visitors.
-The reality is I can't write what I want about the job in a public forum. But if I was on unemployment, I would probably be worrying about money and bored out of my mind.
-Brillant idea for the day: A SOLSTICE PARTY. I wont' be exactly on the solstice but it will be entitled a 'Close Enough' party.
-BJ is one of those unfortunate nicknames that didn't denote what it means now when it was doled out - like 'Gay', a nickname with which I am well acquainted.
-I am focusing on what brings me joy with the confines of a new job. Because I feel more entitled. It's all good, right?

Good reasons to take up smoking

There are many good reasons to take up smoking. Though I must admit I have never smoked, recently I have been considering starting the habit and here's why.

• My ice cream and beer diet isn't working. Perhaps if I started smoking I would lose, say 10 pounds, easy. That would put me close to my ideal weight.



• I could take regular smoking breaks at work at some federally-sponsored distance from the building.



• The smoking might help me with the stress of the new job. It might even relieve my twitching eye.



• Smoking might turn my voice into something more sultry, for singing sexy ballads.



• It would give me something to spend my disposable income on rather than $5,350 for braces (times two), $2,000 for jr. leadership trip to D.C. (borderline scam), and $5,125 for the new oil burner. Thought this last listing is providing the benefit of hot showers even while the dishwasher or the washing machine are running. A minor miracle.



• I would look cool for once in my life. Picture a female, middle-aged housewife version of James Dean.



• I wouldn't worry about wrinkles because no one would get close enough to notice. Or smokers just take wrinkles as they come. Acceptance. Like an AA kind of thing.



• Finally, I could get some of those t-shirts with pockets and have a pack squarely displayed over my left breast. If those shirts needed washing, I could roll the pack up in the t-shirt sleeve, squarely displayed on my left shoulder. Cool.

Unrelated thoughts

• 
  
  "I am not here to judge." This was uttered by a waitress at the Pump House after I ordered a cheeseburger.


• 
  
  An ex-colleague described his job as 'tolerable' while another was spouting ecstatically via a blog about finding her purpose in life and how great that feels. This new job has me questioning both - of course the purpose one sounds better but that doesn't always pay the bills. In my new job (I can't write too much as someone from work could possibly read this), all leadership and responsibilities have been dropped and I have morphed into a well paid typist for my 78 year old boss. Increased pay and no real responsibilities. Or as we decided at dinner the other night am I just so smart that the job is easy for me? There is much to write about this and perhaps it is a topic for next time. As in life, how do I know this is the right situation for me? Should I give it a year and then evaluate? I feel trapped in the 8-4:30 cell with no flexibility. Or am I just whinning? This is life for many folks. And I have had the luxury of 10 years of flexibility. For example, I don't know if I can play tennis this winter on Friday mornings. Should I ask and see if I can still play make up the time? I am thinking about getting a PhD in Marine Affairs. I can't play tennis and ask for time to take 1 class/semester. Michael has his graduation from 8th grade soon. Do I go and make up the time? Doug is away next week and I will have trouble squeezing my hours in, not to speak of exercise. Though I could solve this last one with smoking. Perhaps smoking is the key to everything. Yes, smoking.

Old, fat, slow

The other day when I was feeling old, fat and tired. Or was it old, fat, and slow? I thought to myself, and I quote: "Is that redundant?" But it's just how I felt as we were getting our hynies whipped in a tennis match. I didn't seem to have any umph.

But, still I refuse to believe we have to succumb to lethargy with age. My new boss is 78 afterall. When I think about most men, or women for that matter at 78 - they are certainly napping every day. So I gotta keep up with the boss. No napping on the job.

Meanwhile, my son Michael said something the other day "Well I will be someday" - in regard to fatness. "We live in America. Everybody gets fat." He sees it as an inevitability with age.

But I refuse to believe it even though I am aging and gaining lbs. I will stem the tide. I will fight the fight. I will not give in. I will halt the slide.

Unrelated thoughts

-My eye is twitching and I have a deep constriction in the middle of my forehead where my third eye should be. This is all related to the new f/t job. I hope it will subside soon.

-There is nothing like the feeling of new socks.

-My boss can't always/often read his own handwriting. That happens to me sometimes at 45.

-Oh, how I feel for cubicle workers everywhere.

-Daniel's initials etched onto the hood of my car are kind of growing on me. . .

My little angel

Innocent or guilty? You be the judge.

I know. I know. It's been a while since my last blog entry. And there is no excuse for that or my e-book that I started on this site and have let drop. And things are not going to get better in that regard. I am about to get busy with a new job. But then again you never know. Sometimes when you have too much time - you do nothing with it. And sometimes when you have less time, you write or paint or whatever it is you do - for sanity's sake. To say, yes I do have some control over my life. And even though I am busy or board out of my mind, I will be creatively satisfied. Even if it takes some determined organization, scheduling and efficiency. In fact, I have noticed that sometimes when I am my most busy, I am my most creative. Those brain cells get firing and the ideas flow. Let's hope!

In the meantime, I've discovered random scratching, or keying on the paint job of my relatively new car. Upon closer inspection, the letters D A N I were clearing visible on the hood. Upon closer questioning, DANIEL revealed he was writing in the frost of my car one morning. Writing with what? A rock? He claims it was only his finger. My little angel has one sharp finger. Note: He did apologize.

Unrelated thoughts

• 
  
  In the, THERE IS A GOD DEPARTMENT, my aunt and another older woman told me that they know some older women who have lost weight and actually look older with their sunken in cheeks. So keep on those pounds ladies. You don't want to look like a shruken up old woman.


• 
  
  When recording some vocals for my new CD, the producer said to me: "We are not making a Brittany Spears album" - implying that every note does not have to be perfect. What? I am not the next Brittany Spears?


• 
  
  Travelling on a recent road trip, Daniel said, "That is my favorite sound - like a heartbeat" as the road joints rolled on by. . .


• 
  
  On the same road trip he said (I groaned), "This is very entertaining for me" referring to the license plate game.


• 
  
  On the same road trip (it was two days in the car - each way) he asked Michael if he had a girlfriend. No. "You should try to get one," Daniel said. Why. "So you can get married." Of course.


• 
  
  Bumper stickers on the same road trip: Visualize whirled peas. Caution: Driver singing.


• 
  
  The benefits of a suntan include making your teeth look whiter. Who knew?


• 
  
  As my aunt chopped up carrots and celery her then three year old son asked: "What are you doing?" She told him that she was going on a diet and he asked: "Oh, can I go too?"


• 
  
  A life governed by fear, is no life at all. Prior to our road trip my mother remined me not to go in the ocean, because there are sharks, to ask about bedbugs at all hotels, and to beware of purse snatching outside the Marriott. "Excuse me, but do you have bedbugs here?"