Thursday, April 3, 2008

Topsy Turvey

Well, the world is turning upside down again, especially at the office. There are lots of special projects that have been put on the bottom shelf (or the highest shelf) for a long bit, and now, everyone is trying to gt some of them done.

In the meantime, I'm being trained on the complexities that our new programming made possible for us to be unable to do our jobs . They spent 6 plus years (and hoy, I wish I had the money that they wasted shoving idiot people on and off the job to get it only to "it doesn't work right" status), but it's only going to be used (they say) for the next year and a half.

Lot of money down the drain for a usage of 2 years, I have to tell you, but I've been known to complain a little about it.

That and the fact that while I'm being asked to do someone else's job, they're being asked to do this special project--which is fine with me. It's not so fine with other people, who think it will overload me and make me inaccessible to THEM. I suppose there could be some truth to that, but I'm not about to bog down my brain with a lot of details (grin).

But the whole office is that way--none of us can do our work with this system, and I'll be so glad when it's gone. Really glad. Then we can use a new system that doesn't work either!

I mean, it all works out in the end, right?

In the meantime, I come home and I knit my fool-butt off--Here's last night's foray into the knitting world. This is really coming along, and I keep putting it up to my body to see where I'm at. Somehow, I keep knitting on it, but I never seem to get past these boobs. Maybe I'm growing bigger boobs? I'm sure it's just that I'm realizing that I want it ever longer and longer...but that's just me. It will be to the underarms soon. Very soon.

But not tonight, as tonight is band practice.

Oh and speaking of band practice, I finally got an email from my erstwhile son--who apparently is furious with me, and probably never wants to speak to me again. I had hopes that he would be able to continue with his learning snare drum and go with us to Flint, but it means that he'd have to drive himself somehow (since his car's not drivable right now and it's not starting either) to our meeting place, and beyond that, because of his financial crush (not crunch, and he didn't use the term crush, either), he's going to have to sell the car because he can't afford the insurance or to have it fixed, and so he's angry with me for his predicament (he didn't use those words, but the idea came through loud and clear).

I told him that I was really sorry for his predicament, but I was not responsible for how he got there, and I wasn't responsible for getting him out of there. I also apologized for asking about the band to begin with, but my mother had told me that she was fixing his car at her own expense, because she can't walk anymore, and needs to have a car! I asked him if he's selling the car, how's he going to get Grandma around, and why is she still talking about fixing the car if you're just going to sell it out from under her? Well, in retrospect, he's probably selling the car to her for getting it fixed.

But he's angry with me. It just breaks my heart. Sort of like it did when he was screaming in a temper tantrum inside the grocery store when I wouldn't buy him that candybar. So please, feel free to ignore the dripping sarcasm display.

On the other hand, my doctor appointment went well. We got together and I showed her Ravelry, and this blog (even read some excerpts). She really thinks that I should be a writer. Man, I don't know about much else but my own life--which wouldn't make good reading---maybe television. HA! But seriously, I have no idea what I'd write about. There are some days that I really have to work to find fodder for this page.

You know, however, it's been a long time since I pulled a tarot card, so let's do that...Tarot card for today is.

The hanged man....ouch. Entitled "Sacrifice", and it's right side up. Usually means that I'm going to have to give something up. Well, that could mean the regular work that I do--in an effort to do the work that is being foisted on me, which really doesn't bother me, but it does "stress" me, some. It heralds a loss of control, but it's more about "letting go" so that you can move on to other areas. This might mean discussion with Ray about leaving drumming altogether--but I'm thinking that it's work related, since things are becoming pretty topsy turvey lately. We'll see what today brings in the real world.


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