The Blues, The Reds, and The Blahs

Usually this month is a very happy one for me. (Cue the orchestra...) It's May, It's May, the Lusty Month of May. (Yes, yes, I do obsess about Camelot from time to time...) But this month has been a tough one.

Not for any specific reason. I've just had a general malaise hanging over my head these past few days/weeks. I haven't even blogged because I really haven't felt like I have anything to say.

I still don't necessarily feel any better, but I've decided that I'll heed the wise words of "what you look for, you will find." Or, as the poster on my cube says, we come to feel as we behave. So if I behave happy, well, just maybe...

Would you describe me as "green"?

I am completely wiped out. But, alas, I have already poured a cup of chamomile tea, so while I'm waiting for it to cool enough to drink ... I will subject you to more ranting.

Had my first meeting of my Taproot Foundation project group tonight. And it went really well. We've got our work cut out for us, but I feel really good about the nonprofit we're working with. What I don't feel great about was dinner. We went to Bertucci's. Normally, I really like Bertuccis. But this week I am especially poor. With that in mind, I ordered a salad. Nothing more. No soda, wine, or beer. No grilled steak. Water, (free) bread, salad. So when the bill came, I expected those who ordered wine, beer, or steak to pay their fair share while I paid mine. Alas.

Now, I know I could have spoken up. Should have. But I've just met these people and I will be working with them for several months. Which, of course, is precisely why I should have spoken up. Best to nip habits in the bud before they become habits. But I really wanted these people to like me. So, mum I stayed.

What's worse is this. This a.m., I learned one of my co-workers won $2000 in Keno last night. Keno. $2,000. And instead of being happy for her, I felt angry, jealous. I am really - REALLY - not proud of my immediate reaction. I should have been happy. I should have opened my heart to her good fortune. But I didn't.

Is it jealousy issues or money issues, or both? If I can figure that one out -- and what to do about it -- I'd be a much happier camper.

Freedom

Yesterday was Cinco de Mayo -- Mexican Independance Day. I must admit, for someone who spent three years of her life working in Mexican Restaurants, I know very little about Cinco de Mayo.

But I do know this.

One year ago, Cinco de Mayo, was my last day of working a second job. For one full year, I have been relying on one single paycheck. And, while I constantly moan and stress about my finances (and, yes, I will be eating ramen and mac n' cheese for 9 days until I get paid again...) it feels REALLY GOOD to have a normal work week.

It's given me a lot to think about. Where I've been. What I've gone through. Where I'm going.

And to a certain extent, I think much of the recent past has been part of a misstep. A precocious mid-life crisis. But it has gotten me to where I am today. And while that sounds trite and cliched (or, as Napolean would say, cliqued), it's no less true.

So, here's to freedom! Pour me another Spider Cider, rocks, salt.

Precious Moments

My best friend's daughter, who is 17 going on 35, has landed a job. She is working at Taco Bell. The best thing about her new job, other than the fact that the uniforms are purple (purple is a ery good color for her) is that she doesn't have ask, "Do you want fries with that?" We all have our standards.

The other night, she was tasked with cleaning the men's bathroom (after closing time, of course). After this nightmare event, she dialed up her boyfriend. Below is a rough transcript of the conversation, as related by her mother.

"What's up with you guys and your lack of aim?"

Pause.

"Well, sometimes it's a game. And sometimes you get, you know, distracted. By like a fly or something."

I'm so glad he provided a concrete example to prove his point.

I'm a Toys R Us Kid

Remember those commercials? "I don't wanna grow up, I'm a Toys R Us kid!" They were great.

I've been doing a lot of thinking about that lately.

I went on a job interview on Tuesday. It was a great job with a great organization. And I really think I would have had a chance. If, say, I had an MBA and about five more years experience.

And I came home and started thinking about getting an MBA. It's a conversation I've had with myself many times.

But then I took a step back.

I'm currently being forced to curb my exercise habit. For better or for worse, I will be getting home much earlier than 7:30/ 8 p.m. these days. And I will be significantly less ravenous when I get home. So, in theory, I should have much more time to write.

And, truth be told, I've got a LOT of ideas kicking around in this ole head of mine.

Then I remembered back to the words of a well-respected member of a previous writing group. Who told me (and I paraphrase) "You've got style and ear. When you figure out what it is you want to say, you will be a great writer. PLEASE find an MFA program and enroll."

You can't exactly get an MFA and an MBA at the same time.

So it seems I'm at a crossroads. On one hand, getting the MBA will allow me to earn the money that could - potentially - allow me to take the time to do the writing that makes me happy. On the other hand, getting the MFA will help me to better do the writing that makes me happy. Of course, while both expensive, one is considerably more expensive than the other. See employee Continuing Ed section of contract.

I don't need to decide this all at once. But given all of the stuff that's been coming up for me in reiki and meditations, in conversations and dreams, I do think it's got to be decided relatively soon.

I don't want to read the headline in the Boston Globe, "Novelist, at age 85, has first work published."