I Must Be Invisible

I think I'm invisible today.

This a.m., had to stop at Kinko's to OK a proof of a quick print job. Was pulling into the last remaining parking spot in front of the store when a big ass SUV starts backing up into it/me.

Waiting in line at the dreaded ABP, the guy in line behind me comes up to the register, puts down his food, and starts paying the cashier even before I had my own lunch bought and paid for.

Walking back to the office I was trailed all the way into the elevator - and this includes through the revolving door - by an old guy with cigar breath. (Yes, he was so close, I smelled the cigar.)

Stuck in traffic on Mem Drive, a car pulls out right in front of me and nearly takes off my front end.

Either I've been watching too much Supernatural or I really need to start wearing neon orange.
Oh, wait, maybe my Voicemail is coming true and the NSA is after me....

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.