Monday, September 10, 2007
Notes From the Front Lines
My trip to Portland last week was a total waste of time, as I expected. We rehearsed our end of year territory reviews, even though our fiscal year doesn't actually end until September 30, so every slide is currently incorrect. My reservations about my boss increased when he had a long phone conversation, liberally sprinkled with sentences like "I'm a soldier; if they tell me to march up the hill, I'll do it, even if I think they're wrong", and "I've kept my job all these years by doing exactly what they tell me to do". This was in reference to what I consider to be an incredibly stupid idea to take a young woman who they are thinking of hiring into a customer's plant. Aside from being very patronizing -- they want to see if she can deal with the noise, dirt and heat -- the liability of having a non-employee there on the company's behalf just boggles my mind. What if she gets hurt? What if she damages something? If I were in my boss's shoes, I would have put all my concerns in writing and made damn sure nothing could come back to me. I would not have clicked my heels, saluted, said "Yes, Sir!" and then tried to make a virtue of it. I think this is known as Differing World Views.
I bought a bed and dresser over the weekend. Fortunately, it's out of stock; if worst comes to worst and the furniture arrives before the house is done, I have the option of putting it in layaway. I wanted a canopy bed my whole life; I bought them for both my daughters and three of my four granddaughters. But you know what? -- giving it to someone else is not the same as actually having it for yourself. So now I will finally have my canopy bed. I was investigating the hand-tied canopies over the weekend and then it hit me that there are no rails across the top and a canopy will probably sag in the middle. Not to worry, though, I was already thinking that I would use velcro to attach it to the canopy frame, and avoid using anything over the top that could interfere with air flow. At my age, it is very important to have cool air circulating at night!
Speaking of age, I actually read the thing Social Secuity sends me every year and discovered that I have to work until I'm 66 if I want to get full benefits. Wahhhhh! Until I got this new boss, I couldn't imagine retiring. Now it's sounding wonderful.
At the end of August, I blinked one morning and felt something scratch my eye. It turned bright red and has not healed completely despite four trips to the eye doctor. I've been through a couple of different steroid eye drops; now she wants me to take 100 mg of ibuprofen 3 times a day. Just one little problem: ibuprofen only comes in 200 mg capsules.
I have to finalize my decision on the brick(?) stone(?) for the fireplace and hearth, pick a front door and choose tile for the guest bath -- today! Our biggest trade show of the year starts officially tomorrow morning but unofficially tonight with hospitality suites. I won't come up for air until Thursday afternoon. Wednesday night I'm taking some customers to a fancy schmancy wine and food pairing dinner, and I've hired a stretch Hummer to get them there and back. It's probably my only chance to ever ride in one.
And I have discovered that I apparently have a heart of stone. My 90 year old uncle died last week and I can't work up any emotion at all. He had so much talent and potential, but he was the model for the Peter Pan Syndrome. He had kids by two different wives, never paid child support, never contacted his children at all, but would periodically give my children wildly inappropriate gifts to soothe his conscience. (I may be giving him too much credit by thinking he had a conscience.) The kids thought he was great because he would pull quarters out of their ears and draw faces on the soles of their feet. My mother spent most of her life bouncing back and forth between seeing him as he really was and worshipping her big brother. I am trying to be supportive because she is grieving, but in my mind I am only thinking that he was 90, for heaven's sake; that was a long full life. And I am disgusted with the hurt he caused and the total selfishness he exhibited his whole life. So I am biting my tongue a lot, and occasionally I wonder if there's something wrong with me that I have no tears to shed for him.
Oh dear, it's Monday morning and I don't seem to have a nice word to say about anything. Think I'll go take a hot shower and see if I can wash some of this meanness out of me.
I bought a bed and dresser over the weekend. Fortunately, it's out of stock; if worst comes to worst and the furniture arrives before the house is done, I have the option of putting it in layaway. I wanted a canopy bed my whole life; I bought them for both my daughters and three of my four granddaughters. But you know what? -- giving it to someone else is not the same as actually having it for yourself. So now I will finally have my canopy bed. I was investigating the hand-tied canopies over the weekend and then it hit me that there are no rails across the top and a canopy will probably sag in the middle. Not to worry, though, I was already thinking that I would use velcro to attach it to the canopy frame, and avoid using anything over the top that could interfere with air flow. At my age, it is very important to have cool air circulating at night!
Speaking of age, I actually read the thing Social Secuity sends me every year and discovered that I have to work until I'm 66 if I want to get full benefits. Wahhhhh! Until I got this new boss, I couldn't imagine retiring. Now it's sounding wonderful.
At the end of August, I blinked one morning and felt something scratch my eye. It turned bright red and has not healed completely despite four trips to the eye doctor. I've been through a couple of different steroid eye drops; now she wants me to take 100 mg of ibuprofen 3 times a day. Just one little problem: ibuprofen only comes in 200 mg capsules.
I have to finalize my decision on the brick(?) stone(?) for the fireplace and hearth, pick a front door and choose tile for the guest bath -- today! Our biggest trade show of the year starts officially tomorrow morning but unofficially tonight with hospitality suites. I won't come up for air until Thursday afternoon. Wednesday night I'm taking some customers to a fancy schmancy wine and food pairing dinner, and I've hired a stretch Hummer to get them there and back. It's probably my only chance to ever ride in one.
And I have discovered that I apparently have a heart of stone. My 90 year old uncle died last week and I can't work up any emotion at all. He had so much talent and potential, but he was the model for the Peter Pan Syndrome. He had kids by two different wives, never paid child support, never contacted his children at all, but would periodically give my children wildly inappropriate gifts to soothe his conscience. (I may be giving him too much credit by thinking he had a conscience.) The kids thought he was great because he would pull quarters out of their ears and draw faces on the soles of their feet. My mother spent most of her life bouncing back and forth between seeing him as he really was and worshipping her big brother. I am trying to be supportive because she is grieving, but in my mind I am only thinking that he was 90, for heaven's sake; that was a long full life. And I am disgusted with the hurt he caused and the total selfishness he exhibited his whole life. So I am biting my tongue a lot, and occasionally I wonder if there's something wrong with me that I have no tears to shed for him.
Oh dear, it's Monday morning and I don't seem to have a nice word to say about anything. Think I'll go take a hot shower and see if I can wash some of this meanness out of me.
4 Comments:
You should just say "screw all of this for a little while" and run over and sneak a ride on the Bullet. Think of it as stress relief....
You are one busy woman MM. I don't think you are mean. Just practical. Sounds like your Uncle got to live life by his own terms for 90 years. What more could one ask?
ohhhhhhhhhhh a stretch Hummer... I am soooo jealous!!! You will have to tell me all about it. Do you think they would think you were to odd if yo were steadily snapping pics of it?....lol
Peter Pan Syndrome --- heh heh heh
An entertaining medley of topices
Post a Comment
<< Home