Change is inevitable - except from a vending machine

Lots and lots of changes are going on at the casa de therefore I am.

After 12 years together, the Rockstar and I have decided to split up. It's been coming for a while, but it's not easy. Some days have been pretty miserable, other days I am doing ok. I would never trade the years and experiences we have had together. We will most likely sell the house and we have to work out an arrangement for the mutts. We have a lot of years worth of life to sort through.

While all of this was going on, Minnie had a run in with a bobcat or maybe a coyote. She broke her femur in several places. She has an orthopedic surgeon and has been under rabies quarantine. After the first surgery she broke some steel pins in her cast and had to go back in for a second surgery. I could have bought a used car with what we've paid the vet. But she should be ok, so that's all that matters.

As they say, change is inevitable, growth is optional. It's up to you to decide.

The Stupid Co-Worker Files

It's been a rough few weeks at the black hole (aka my place of employment). Over the last few years we have RIFd a lot of good (and plenty of not so good people). Of course, there is no decrease in the amount of work that needs to be done, but we do the best that we can.

My normal week averages about 40 conference calls and at least 175 emails a day. On the bright side, there have been a lot of birthdays lately, so we get to eat a lot of cake.

Every once in a while I get to spend some time with a real winner.

The first email says that she is having problems uploading an excel file into the system. This isn't my first rodeo with this particular contestant, so I realize that it's bound to be user error. Sigh number 1. I respond with "Send me your file so I can try the upload" and quickly get a screen print of windows explorer with a list of files. Sigh number 2.

I patiently ask for the actual files, telling her that I can't access the files that are stored on her computer. She sends back a screen print of the file itself. Sigh number 3.

You know, I am really trying hard these days not be judgmental and/or critical of others, but how in the name of all that is holy do people like this manage to keep their jobs when good smart people get the boot?

Bright side? Cupcakes tomorrow at 2:30.

Bob Slydell: If you would, would you walk us through a typical day, for you?
Peter Gibbons: Yeah.
Bob Slydell: Great.
Peter Gibbons: Well, I generally come in at least fifteen minutes late, ah, I use the side door--that way Lumberg can't see me, heh--after that I sorta space out for an hour.
Bob Porter: Da-uh? Space out?
Peter Gibbons: Yeah, I just stare at my desk, but it looks like I'm working. I do that for probably another hour after lunch too, I'd say in a given week I probably only do about fifteen minutes of real, actual, work.

Buzzword Overkill

My work life has recently been unsatisfying.

There was the smallest bonuses in years (and by bonus, I mean "we are going to give you less base salary so we can give you a BOUNS! And then we will screw you on the bonus, so really . . . we got you both ways!). Next came meager raises and another round of RIFs looming in the not so distant future.

This joy was followed up by the influx of a new group to my cubicle area. Prior to this, one other lady and I were spoiled. We were the only two people in a large bank of cubes. It was our domain and we were happy damn it. I took one day off and a flock of people moved in and now surround me. My special favorite is the lady who verbalizes a stream of consciousness all day long. This is how I know that she hasn't ever started a 401K because saving for the future is dumb, is spending her meager bonus on granite counter tops for her trailer house, must poop on a specific schedule, and must have a smoke break every two hours. She also takes conference calls on a blasting speakerphone several times a day. No one is in there with her and she doesn't ever even speak. I know more about what their group does than she does I am quite sure.

Her friend has set up an audible message each time she gets an email - at least 40 times a day I hear "Mistress, you have mail." Sigh.

I haven't had to listen to them this week though, as I have been sequestered in a conference room with 15 of my new closest pals tasked with a high profile project of redesigning and merging some systems. After the first day filled with terms like agnostic platforms and bifurcated processes I wanted to cry. After the second day of quick wins, low hanging fruit, speed to market and client accessibility I was ready to put a bullet in my head. By day three, I was numb.

On the bright side . . . a nice lady wheeled in a cart of fresh baked cookies each afternoon. Makes it all worthwhile. I am living the dream.

Maybe Schneider can help

About a month ago I had a moment. I had a long day doing things out in the yard and throughout the house. I was busy, I was dirty, I was tired.

About the time the Cowboys game started I figured I would run to the grocery store. This is football country. A fair portion of the state comes to a screeching halt during the game. This particular week they were playing the Sunday night game, so it was about 7:30 when I headed out. I figured the store would be quiet and I could quickly purchase the necessary provisions.

I hadn't been to the store in a while, so the cupboards were pretty bare. I had planned to cook dinner every night, so I had a huge cart full of stuff. When I headed to the check out, the lines were full (apparently several women had the same idea I did), and I was ushered into a new line with a trainee. She was a a bit flustered and groceries were flying all over the place. Having my own bags threw her for a loop as well and I would up helping bag my stuff.

I really think that I had my keys in my hand at some point during that time, but by the time I got outside they were long gone. I took everything out of my purse. Nope. The store employees helped me look. We walked up and down every aisle. Nope. We looked in lost and found (where there were 6 sets of keys). Nope.

A bit of panic sets in. The Rockstar had ridden his bicycle about a mile down the road to the neighborhood cantina to watch the game with his friends. If I called him, it would be at least 45 minutes before he could pedal home get the spare keys and come get me. Plus, I would be hearing about how I interrupted the football game male bonding experience by losing my keys like a dingbat girl for the rest of my life.

I could walk the mile and a half home to get the extra keys and ride my bike back. Except that my bike is locked in the back of the Tahoe in the parking lot.

I decide to text a friend who lives about 2 blocks from the store. She laughs and promises to come get me. I am standing in the parking lot with my melting popsicles and bouquet of flowers when she drives up. She is such a nice friend that she drives me home and back before she tells me that she has been home from work for the last three days with the flu. I didn't even think to give her the bouquet of flowers. I suck.

The next day my keys showed up in the lost and found. Maybe I need one of those key clips like Schneider had - I bet he didn't lose his keys.

I guess no one said that life is fair.

I have probably known a disproportionate amount of death in my life. Some of it due to being adopted by parents who were in their 5o's when I was born (can you imagine? but that's a story for another day). Three grandparents gone by the time I was born, one when I was a kid. My parents within 6 months of each other when I was 21. Growing up in a small town meant that I had several friends die by the time I made it out of high school. College friends added to the count. Ironic that a suicide led to a funeral with more than 1000 people crowding into the church. Volunteer work with a cancer charity led me even closer to many wonderful people who are no longer with us.

With this life experience you would think that I have learned to accept it.

A few days ago I got an update from a friend that I have known since I was a kid. She has been battling cancer for almost year. She was always the good one. The vegetarian since we were young (growing up in a small town in the middle of ranching country - she was the only one), always exercised, always healthy. After a series of chemo and radiation that was pretty rough, they have run tests. The cancer is back. It has spread. It is inoperable. She is 36. She has 4 young children.

It makes me angry

It makes me sad.

It makes me want to tell everyone who is important to me how much I love them.

It makes me want to see more of the world.

It makes me want to make a difference.

It makes me want to make the most of every single day.

Many people have said it best: cancer sucks.

Sigh.

My heart hurts.

Life isn't all rainbows and unicorns. Sometimes it really really stinks.

Someone very close to me said some very hurtful things to me last night. Some of them are probably true, but it doesn't make it hurt any less. I didn't sleep at all. I had to be at work for a 7:30 am meeting - a good two hours before I normally show up. The meeting has to do with a major shake-up - something that is causing everyone at work to be on edge. I am exhausted.

Something that I have been looking forward to for months and invested dozens of hours of my time in has been ripped out from underneath me. I am very sad for the loss.

My house is a mess. It should be a sanctuary and a place for me to be able to relax and unwind. An island of calm in a stressed out world. Not so much. There is so much clutter creating negative energy. It has been raining so much and for so long that the backyard is a swamp and muddy dog prints are everywhere.

I am really sad and hurt and down and lost right now.

At least my dogs still love me.