ThouGhts from the TorTured brain of a Jane who has yet To mAster The ART of anyThing.
Friday, August 03, 2012
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
Pickin Cotton
I work in a fabric store.
Up until a few months ago I enjoyed my job. I adore my coworkers and my work was challenging, creative and fun. I built up our Facebook page from 200 to over 6000, wrote some blogs, sent out email sales and newsletters. I designed a look, and generally was the Social Media go to girl. Until the young forman arrived. Suddenly the majority of my job resonsibilites were taken from me without a word. Well, there were a few words that came in the form of commands. I was to help the young bucks with ideas, direction and design ideas as well.
Nah, I don't think so.
Turns out I know the pulse of our readers and what they want. The Foreman tells me not to change anything I do on Facebook, because it works so well. I do anyway....when I think I can improve it. The sad part is I still like that part of my job. I hate not being acknowledged or appreciated for a job well done. Of course this kid makes twice what I do as a part-time consultant and he farms out the design (if you can call it that) to Pakistan.
Am I surprised? No, I've rarely been appreciated for my talents. In reality it may be partially my fault, I don't demand much. But between the glass ceiling and now the gray ceiling. It's hard to know the real reason.
I'm sure there's another plantation that can use some cheap help.
Labels:
fabric,
fabric store,
Facebook,
glass ceiling,
gray ceiling,
no appreciation,
plantaion,
social media,
work
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Shock Treatment
If someone has cancer and you know they are dying is it less painful when they pass?
When you see the company you work for sending more work overseas, does it hurt any less when you get your notice of termination?
If you suspect a friend is lying is it any less of a betrayal to find out the truth?
When you think the person you share your life with loves another, do you still shed a tear when they close the door behind them?
Alone Again, Naturally
I can't wait to live alone again. I'm not including my brother or my daughter. He's keeps to himself and is always there if I want to talk. He also likes to buy donuts. My daughter will soon be a teenager which means she'll be home less.
I am talking about being sans man. If I desire male companion ship or a man to fix something, say like "my pipes" I feel that will never be an issue.
Sure on occasion I will dream of meeting someone who will once again cherish me and dream of growing old with me. A man who will cuddle up to me in the middle of the night or kiss my forehead gently. But I will no longer be waiting or expecting that.
Sometimes I will feel sad and want nothing more than to lay around watching old movies under the covers drifting in and out of a drug induced sleep.
Other times I will bask in the freedom.
I don't know what lies down my road.
I do know I am ready.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
GaGa Over Babies
I have to say I never got what the deal was with people getting all gaga with babies. Seemed all they did was spit up, poop, and cry. I used to tell my mother I'm not having a kid until I can get one that's around two and get rid of it at around eight. "I don't like babies." I would tell her. "Wait until you have your own." she would say.
When some of my friends had babies they asked: "Do you want to hold her?" I politely declined. At my job I was working on a brochure for new mom's. It required lots of pictures of a mom and baby. When I met our baby model, his mom asked if I wanted to hold him, I cringed inside. I'm a professional I thought, you'll be spending two long days with this baby and his mom, buck up. So I did.....at arms length. My entire department of co-workers and friends laughed out loud at me. I looked at them and shrugged, "I don't like babies." "Wait until you have your own." they said almost in unison.
My second husband and I never had children, the majority of the couples we dated also choose not to have children. I had no regrets, no longings, no needs unfulfilled. We all had cats or dogs, responsibility enough.
The man I married in my early forties, had a two year old and I became a stepmother. He told me he wanted to have a child with me. I was eight years older. I just smiled, I was confident at the age of forty six I had nothing to fear.
I was wrong.
I loved every minute of my pregnancy but was very nervous about an actual baby. I wouldn't say motherhood came naturally to me, at least it didn't feel like it. Audrey's first three month's were a struggle for me, I'm told that's normal. At around six months the fun started up and continued until around the age of eight (yeah I was spot on with that) grrr. Kidding.
I'm still not the person that picks up other people's babies, nor do I coo at them. I still prefer toddlers.
If you don't like babies, I have some advice: Wait until you have your own.
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Little Chicken
Can men and women be just friends?
Yes, if they weren't men and women.
There is almost always sexual tension between the sexes and flirting is a safe, easy way to relieve it.
Once in awhile in a drunken stooper I may have succumbed to flirting gone haywire, but not since I was 20 something. My experience has been that the man usually pulls the first innuendo or suggestion.
Men are just wired differently, they don't know when to stop.
In all fairness I think it's more about the individual.
Men are just wired differently, they don't know when to stop.
In all fairness I think it's more about the individual.
I flirt out of habit, for me it's a form of communication, it's fun, and it comes easily to me. I flirt with everybody, EVERYBODY! But, there are those who do not flirt. As if flirting will lead them to a dark seedy flop house where they are left to sneak out with all dignity gone. Usually these people also have no sense of humor. You need to be quick witted to be a good flirt.
Relationships change and sometimes disintegrate, if you can save anything from them, consider yourself lucky. Each one is very different and very unique. Enjoy every moment of each and don't have regrets.
Life is short, so flirt, the sky won't fall.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Is the House Still There?
I'm on the phone telling him I just got home and he says:
"Is the house still there?"
I know I'm forgetful lately but this is too much for my brain to comprehend.
Did we have a visit from aliens I was unaware of?
Did I forget a mortgage payment?
An explosion I missed on the news?
"Ah, yea, the house is still here."
Today he took the Little Tykes playhouse out of the back yard and onto the street, in search of new owners. I had been keeping it in hopes that someday it would be painted with that new fangled paint for plastic. I would then keep it looking quite delightful in my imaginary garden that I never work in anymore.
Sometimes I just need to let go.
"Oh, I was sure someone would take it."
(they did)
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