#1linerWeds. 9/21/22

Ooohhh, I like Linda’s one liner today. Let’s all go slay some dragons!! Look HERE to check out the rest of today’s offerings. My borrowed two cents worth even less than 1/2 a penny follows:

The Opposite of Love is Not Hate, It Is Indifference

Elie Wiesel

Last week I went back to a lighthearted one liner after several weeks of trying to lift myself up using quotes from The Boy, the mole, the fox, and the Horse by Charlie Mackesy. Well the levity didn’t last. Not going to whine now. My break is almost over. I have to get back to crack-a-lackin.

Special thanks to the unnamed blogger who commented that quote back to me on one of my prior sad sack posts. Just what I needed, right when I needed to see it. No matter how often B tells me, “they don’t hate you Jill, they don’t even know you. If they took the time to know you, they would love you just like we do”, that lesson refuses to stick.

From another view, then maybe the opposite of hate is difference. As in making a difference, looking out for others. Being kind & giving a little help along the way.

As always, more to come.

I’ve Been Found Out ~ 9/7/22

I’ve been caught red handed. But not 💯 percent sure. And here I thought I was so stealth. Under my alternate Twitter account, I get to be me. Not that I’m not genuine here because I wear my heart on my sleeve & gush my very being. But there, where no one knows me, I’m not afraid to share thoughts that might not otherwise make the light of day. And this is with a cohort of people who have something so deeply in common with me, that they get it. The club no one else wants to be in.

I know I’m overthinking and what would’ve had to be done to find me isn’t easy. I’m not the sun or worth the time so the family tells me they think I’m still anonymous. So much is starting to make sense though & I label myself the bad actor.

I’m going to keep pressing on. Hope there is truth to it’s not over until it’s over. As I re-read everything there is much pain in my writing. Brutal, honest, and at times overreacting. Maybe that could perhaps bring sympathy or empathy. As long as I’m not pitied, I’ll take what I get.

As always more to come.

Remembering the Dash ~ 9/1/22

Theresa Irmina Andrisek McBee Jasek 9/1/32 – 1/25/98. Today would have been her 90th birthday. Happy birthday to the only momma I ever knew. My feature image is the tattoo she’d likely be upset by …. or not. I’d like to think she would have made an exception somehow knowing my sweet baby girl drew the heart (and has a tattoo of her own). Times change & maybe her strict interpretation of the catechism would have changed too.

I’m not quite ready to full on release the hounds but I couldn’t let this milestone go by without a mention. Over the coming days, I may or may not expand upon my story. I’ve been teasing about doing this for months. I’m pacing myself because I don’t want this to turn into a bash the dead person narrative. She was flawed but then again everyone is flawed; all of us are imperfectly human. I live in a glass house, not going to throw any stones. And I want to stress things weren’t all bad, in fact, there was usually much more good. Revisionist history or not, my life has been & continues to be extraordinary. I don’t need a wellness check. I promise.

This has to be my favorite quote from the 1948 film The Naked City. “There are eight million stories in the naked city. This has been one of them.” I feel like I have 8 million stories all by myself. A tangled bowl of spaghetti which is very hard to follow. But then that wouldn’t be any different from my typical posts here. WordPress is definitely the place to tell my tale. People here have always been very supportive.

It’s blurry but it’s us!

Get Real Series: Not to be a Brat but … 5/23/22

***** trigger ⚠️ warning ⛔️ *****

May is mental health awareness month. Accordingly my company is posting one message a day on its Intranet. I admire that they are trying to do something. Truly I do. And not to be a brat but…

In today’s story of gentlemen wrote of his daughter mental health diagnosis. I will not elaborate and/or minimize her struggles. My initial thought was we need more of this, people willing to speak up. As I started to reply my comments twisted and took a different theme. A not so nice one. A bit of ire underneath what would’ve been well wishes. Not for the gentleman and his daughter but for the system. I made it about ME. And God help me I hate that about myself. So I canceled my comment before it went large.

This is what I almost wrote… Thank you <insert name> for being vulnerable to share your family’s story. I’m glad you found help for your daughter. For every one person that speaks up, hundreds more are suffering in silence. The stigma/fear/shame are real. The social services are lacking. We are fortunate to have FMLA and a job that allows us to concentrate on what’s most important. Many do not.

I could’ve gone on and on and on with my diatribe. I could wallow about our experience with Lulu who at the tender age of 16 suffered with suicidal ideation. How she used to cut herself. How she binge ate her way to oblivion to get through the stress of college. Who is now skinny as a rail having mastered her fate. Who still struggles daily with self doubt and worse yet in those struggles, shows a fierce determination and strength beyond her years.

I could go on and on about the broken system. Elaborate with intimate detail what we went through to find help. To be turned away. To be further harmed. Hell, we went through fresh hell. But I haven’t the energy. And I’m not sure it’s productive. I firmly believe one should come with a solution not a complaint. In other words, whining about a broken system doesn’t fix said system. With that I’m FIN. For now. Until the next dust up.

If you take away anything from this rant, know you aren’t alone even when it feels like it. We are legion. Not just in May but year round ❤️‍🩹

As always more to come.

Friday Feature ~ 5/13/22

Time is doing it’s slippery wiggle again. Yay! I’m still working from home. My in-laws are still on death’s 💀 door. Sorry to be blunt but it’s true. Yet maybe we’re all on death’s 💀 door. We’re all just a second from pow 💥.

My former coworker’s mom and her aunt were killed in a car wreck going to a funeral. They woke up that morning like usual and went to grieve their family member never to return. Neither was in poor health. Completely unexpected. Such a tragedy.

You think 🤔 this knowledge would snap 🫰 me into shape. Make me realize how precious life is and oh it is! I haven’t forgotten that. I’m just out of sorts.

Thank goodness I have therapy today. Getting more tools ⚒️ in my emotional 🥹 health toolbox 🧰. With May being mental health month, having the discussion is apropos.

Even our chief told us yesterday that he was going to visit his mom for the first time in years. She’s out of state in assisted living with mental health issues. Yep. He said that. Right up there on the big stage being broadcast to the masses. End the stigma. It’s about time.

Alrighty. Lemme let ya go 🙃. As always more to come.

Howdy Y’all!! You’re In For A Treat

… well now that I grabbed your attention, turn back fast or you’ll be sorely disappointed. The treat is for me getting some ferocious thoughts out of my head. This post will likely make no sense. There could be a snippet or two of clarity in the fog but basically this is me like a cotton headed ninny muggin. Truth be told the movie Elf annoys the ever loving crap out of me but then I did cry at the end. Sap that I am.

Okay, so here’s the deal. I am not my mother. Nope, she is she and I am me. I do not have to repeat her path. Genetics might tell me otherwise but genetics are also a wildcard. Example, one has a 1 in 4 chance to inherit whatever trait. Predisposition is not a guarantee. Only 25% likely, or 10% or 80%. Wildcard you see! I need to remember that! I’ve been in the insurance game my whole life. We deal in probabilities and statistics. What is the likelihood of X occurring and all that jazz.

The most comforting response came from Twitter where despite what one may think is not all that bad when you pick what you follow. I am out there anonymous baring my soul. A kind stranger wrote in reply to my angst: In your specific case, I would say that your mother’s experiences are separated from yours by time and experience. They aren’t a given. Was all it took one stranger to change my mind?

Well no. He corroborates what I know to be true. Years of patterns and statistics. Could this mean I escaped? Maybe? But what about my Lulu? I have subtly hinted at her issues, which are all resolved in this moment, yet always ready to rear their ugly heads again one day. Samesie for her right? Not a given. We can fight, fight, fight against biology. You rat bastard!!!!! Even if the effort is futile.

Segway to Charge of the Light Brigade. “Half a league, half a league, half a league onward,” I love that poem! Tennyson speaks to me. Yep, the queen comma drama has made her appearance with us today.

Okay, enough steam was let loose. I’m better. For now. Might pop off again later. Feels good folks to finally let the dam break and the chips fall where they may. RIP momma, you did the best you could.

As always, more to come.

Why Not Me? ~ 5/2/21

When people say “why not me”? They usually mean why can’t I? Win a Pink Cadillac? Why not me? Well because I don’t sell Mary Kay and didn’t make the quota.

Slight detour. Hey grammar peeps, does the quotation mark go before the question mark or after? Inquiring minds need to know but being in a self imposed ban from Google, I’m not looking. Hello, hello, hello – is there any editors out there? Just nod if you can hear me. HaHa!

Okay back to my ramble, reflection, musing …

Why not me? Seriously. I’m asking. Why am I spared from the dreaded C? Why instead does cousin J have stage 4 lung cancer and cousin Marie another lymph node in her neck that could be cancer and why did my coworker L have to die before her time? Why did PoPo have to break his leg and remain in the hospital? Why not me? Who the hell decides?

You can keep your fancy shit to yourself. I will never ask why not me when I see others’ good fortune. But when it comes to the bad stuff, that’s a different story. Why not me? I deserve the bad stuff don’t I? Despite things appearing to be utterly random. Karma needs to come kick my ass. Asking why not me becomes very, very easy.

As I sit here in limbo awaiting my fate, I am overwhelmed. Even the jokes quit working. So, first things first. “It’s nothing until it’s something” Say it with me! Except that mantra has worn thin. Google did me no favors yesterday and I spun into a deep abyss.

Today I did my second grocery run, the quick one for B’s mom. As we passed by we saw every emergency vehicle known to man in the driveway of our neighbor’s around the corner. An elderly lady who lives alone. There was the Acadia ambulance, the fire department rig, the BCSO truck, and finally China Grove police. Plus about three or four hastily parked cars in the fray. Family members we assumed. I made the sign of the cross twice and silently asked why not me?

Then we had the church picnic. Excellent turn out. The “to-go” line ran smooth as silk. We ate with B’s mom and PoPo called from the hospital during the meal. Asked B to take care of a few things for him. Come Monday he is moving to a different facility.

Back at home, I was brooding. Feeling very sorry for myself. I told Lulu Belle I needed to walk. She tagged along. Despite our Saturday marathons, I kind of quit walking like I should. We lapped around a few times. Spied in on the garden. Looking good even if we only get squash. Dang squirrels nabbed a tomato plant already. After that, I went in to get the dogs’ food.

After feeding the pups, instead of going in, I went to my swing. My early Mother’s Day present 20 years in the making. Sitting there in peace, I called our Employee Assistance Program (EAP). And wouldn’t ya know it, 24/7 someone to talk to literally saved me the agony of further why not me?

I’m still in constant physical pain but mentally a weight was lifted up, up and away. Instead of sending me the list of choices, they will do the legwork to find someone for me to talk to regularly. No great shock that I need therapy. No more tough enough to power through with a grin and bear it.

Reaffirmed I’m a plotter who will make three different plans for the three possible outcomes of Friday’s procedure. I’m also using the positive mindset espoused by EAP and our healthy points team. Turns out my repeating It’s nothing until it is something is a good starting point. Then I will find funny pet videos on the Internet. I will also look myself in the mirror speaking only in positive affirmations. Working Monday through Thursday will be another welcome way to redirect me.

Whew! That feels fantastic! The planning part especially. Writing out the worst case scenario first, then progressing backward to best case scenarios along with my plans to attack this … whatever this is. Now we’re cooking with g.a.s. of the epigastric variety. Pun intended.

As always, more to come.

Life’s Messy ~ 12/4/20

Does anyone remember the commercial for Bissel? Life’s messy, clean it up. I’ve been thinking about this slogan quite a bit lately. My friend FJ used to say that was our friend L’s motto towards life.

Pony is about the same age as their kids and despite having not seen them in over a decade, we spent copious amount of time together during what would have been their formative years. Poor Lulu did not have a similar cohort and that makes me sad but that is a story for another day.

Whenever we got together for play dates, the kids wanted to be at L’s. She’d let them do just about anything. Why? Well because doing just about anything was fun. Five kids playing their hearts out created a mess. After all the shenanigans were all done, then you cleaned stuff up. But you didn’t stop playing because you might create a mess.

There is something philosophical in all this rambling I promise.

FJ and I were the opposite. I can’t claim to be a neat freak since I’m not but I do like things nice. If I spent an inordinate amount of time deep cleaning to get ready for a play date, I wanted the house to stay that way for a while. I’d come behind with a rag or broom. Never living in the moment. Trying my best to hold it all together. FJ was the same way to a point that she stopped cleaning completely. Why bother when things would get bad again anyway?

Out of all of us, who was the happiest? Why L of course. Let them make a mess, let them have fun, let go and live a little. When it’s all said and done put things back in their rightful place. This is akin to using the good towels. I spent way too much of my life saving things for a “special” day instead of making every day special even in the mundane. And the guilt is overwhelming some days.

Would’ve, could’ve, should’ve … the bane of my existence. You’d think I learned from my past therapy. And mostly I did but I still slip back now and again. Today is one of those “again” days. Where I can’t turn off my brain or stop blaming myself.

The controller in me wants to go behind with a rag and a broom. Ever at the ready to stop the catastrophe that is about to occur. Worrying about ‘what if’ instead of letting go. Whatever happens, happens. I mean I have cleaned up messes before right? Some pretty horrific ones too. I am telling myself I can do this as I watch, waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop.

As always, more to come.

Sunday Reflections ~ 6/21/20

This post is my 2nd Sunday reflections.  Look at me, building habits.  Speaking of habits, Lulu and I finished three weeks of walking every morning.  We planned to skip Sundays but have done that only once so far.  Tomorrow she has a tele-med appointment and I asked her if she wanted to skip.  She said, “nope, lets go 30 minutes earlier”.  Well look at that would ya?  Folks you’ve no idea what a huge stride that is … pun intended.

I started taking my hand weights and pretend to get tired so she will take them from me.  Sneaky I know but desperate times call for desperate measures as they say.  This wellness routine of ours is very small but a step in the right direction.  That pun was intended too :).

At her appointment she is going to ask about weaning from her anti-depressant.  Something I have wanted for a while and something she just doesn’t know.  Originally the doctor (who was quite the quack btw) said she would be able to stop after she got settled in college.  And lookie here, she graduates on 8/8/20.  Ultimately if she continues on, we will support her.  My guilt for getting her in the cycle when she was under 18 be damned.  We’d much rather have her obese and alive than thin and dead.  Of course obese could lead to early demise.  Heavy decisions for someone so young.

Alrighty, enough second guessing.  Now is the time to recap.

Last Sunday was all about Jack or John during #SLS.   This challenge hosted by Jim Adams is the best bringing the tunes.  You should play along or at least look here and take a listen.

On Monday I wrote a Haiku and Shared My World.  Work was a gazillion times better because I decided to eff it.  I can only control what I can control.  I laughed much more this week and I let the pressure go.  Up up and away.  Like a beautiful balloon.  Hurling expletives as she rose :).  The she is me.  I am the balloon.  🙂

Tuesday was all about property taxes.  Which reminds me, I need to get my evidence together.  Wednesday was #1linerWeds. while on Thursday and Friday, I looked back …

On Thursday I also learned that a co-worker tested positive for COVID.  He got it from his roommate’s sister who works at a Walmart.  She brought it to church and he picked it up there.  He is what they call a community spread.  After time in the hospital, he is convalescing at home.  Expected to make a full recovery.  Thank goodness.  Still when I see people out and about without masks, I just wanna punch them.  Hard.  In the face.

Saturday was the capstone.  Twofer!!  First, #SoCS  in da house.  Where ya never know what you’re gonna get … until you do.  We had ZZ words this week.  Second, mobile happy hour … like an ice cream truck for adults.  Proof!!!

Peace y’all.   Until next time. Stay safe.

As always, more to come.

All Rose in Titanic

Picture it … China Grove TX, May 7, 2020 noontime. I’m taking my walk doing my Rose from Titanic impression, arms outstretched walk as the wind blows back my hair as my heart will go on … I round the driveway curve and see a white van.
 
Dammit! A delivery and me without my mask. Who the eff keeps ordering things?!!??! Not me!! Sacribleu!! I sort of walk jog run in the opposite direction all Minny in the Help, running from Johnny, Celia’s husband. Worried because I taught her how to fry up a chicken and he can’t know that.
 
I swear I would have thrown groceries at the man, if I had them. Panic sets in as I mentally measure six feet apart muthafucker. Want some fire scarecrow? lol
 
But seriously dude where’s your mask?
 
He rolls down the window. I stop to listen as he yells from quite a distance …
 
“FedEx for pick up”.
 
Me: “they came by yesterday”.
 
Him: “FedEx?”
 
Me: “I hope so. For books right?
 
Him: “They told me to check”
 
Me: “Check what? Can’t you tell on your device? The other guy scanned them”
 
WTF. He drives away but stops at the spot in the road where I was when I first saw him. Not leaving. Dogs going nuts. I guess he was double checking but I just wanted him to go. Those damn books, the late fees are more than the original cost.
 
Inquiring minds wanna know, do I need 14 more days of quarantine?