A not so good, very bad day.

I'm really amazed at how many people work other places besides where I work.  It's not that I don't logically know that people (lots and lots of people, billions in fact) work other places, it's just that I have worked there so long, that I forget there is any other place which actually pays money for work.  I have loved this job like it's my family.  Granted, it's been a slightly dysfunctional family over the years, but a loveable one nonetheless.

My beloved job, like every other part of life, has inevibility changed.  You may have guessed this about me, but I'm not a huge fan of change.  I think I'm adverse to change because of a frequently  changing landscape in my childhood.  I came from a very loving family, but at times, a very poor one, and we moved a little too frequently when I was young, and this took a toll on my psyche.  Later, as the rest of America advanced to a less poor, albiet never overly wealthy way of life, so did our family, and it was more stable.  I craved stability and this craving followed me into adulthood.

I seek to make my world as solid as possible, but I've also lived long enough to realize that no amount of planning on my part can insulate me from the throes of an unpredictable Universe.  I am generally an optimistic person, in spite of being subject to mild depression on occasion, which is likely caused by those shifty bastards otherwise known as female hormones.  Being genetically high on the end of optimism, I can usually hold onto hope even when I'm lamenting the negative.

Most of the changes, which have occurred in my life, and which seemed negative in the moment, always turned into positives.  I don't know what's going to bring this work "free fall" face to face with the crumbling edge, but I feel it coming, and I'm hoping God has cast out another safety net to cushion the fall.

The belated good news is that there was a clean spoon and bowl available for my milk and cereal dinner.  Two snaps and a circle for me -- who remembered to load the dishwasher on my lunch hour.

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Another One Bites The Dust

I have few true passions in life, but trees and old houses are among them. You may have noticed, that I perhaps tend to pay a little too much attention to the angsty side of life. Well, you may be right, but in my defense, I would like to mention that outrage tends to serve my community and me well when I truly care about something. When a bee crawls into my bonnet, its either the bee or me, and I will rarely go down without a good fight. Can you imagine a bee and me duking it out? I wouldn't really fight a bee. I love bees, and champion their little buzzers too! I am a champion of the underdog, no matter if the underdog has a roof for hair, a stinger for a tail, or branches for arms. I have petitioned for wrongs to be righted, trees to be saved and houses to be loved. So, I would make the case that there is a place in this world for outraged and annoyed people like me. I can hold my head as high as that of any peace seeker, even though I wish I knew the secret of their peaceful yet power driven ways.

I have looooooonnnngggg lovingly admired and championed a forlorn little house which is on my route to work. Today marks the end of that love fest.

Just stab me in my soul will ya, oh manly city official, weilding a bulldozer?

They say pride goeth before a fall, and I say they were right, he looked mighty proud pushing my beloved little house down and around. My heart aches and I shed tears for you ...




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Eh? Speak up, I can't hear you, the silence is too loud.

Yes, we all know that our economy is covered in a pile of dung. The politicians can't come right out and tell you how bad it really is because that would release the wolves and the stock market would go from skittish to full on panic. So, every other day we hear how the economy has recovered and that everything is going back to good. How many of you believe that? Please, raise your hand, if you believe our economy has taken a turn for the better, that good times are right around the corner. I'm not saying that the government should step out and tell us the whole scary truth, and I'm not trying to be a jerk by telling you to take a peek out from under the covers of your blanket named Woobie. I'm just telling you that I'm frightened. I can't hear them, but I can feel the presence of the monsters in the closet and I don't have a Woobie.

Not being able to hear the monsters, is the most distressing part. I can't hear them, but I know they're there. Imagine the quietest place you can imagine. Can you hear the deafening silence? I can hear this ringing sort of silence in my workplace. I can hear the silence on the streets. I can hear the silence in my city. I can hear, what I can't hear, and it scares the beejeebees out of me.

My friends try to assuage my fears by reminding me that I am better off than most people. I presently have a job, I have always lived beneath my material means, and I was saving when saving wasn't cool. So, maybe I had a Woobie all the time, and didn't know it.

I realize the monster was not created by a single entity, person or politician. We live in an unsustainable environment upon which lots of people are dependent. All this finger pointing is not going to fix a problem, but having been a good steward with my own money and choices, I am NOW inclined to agree with a British woman who was in line in front of me while visiting the Natural History Museum in London.

This was my first trip abroad, and I knew there was (and still remains) anti-American inclinations most everywhere in the World, so I was not shocked when this woman began to talk about how Americans were to blame for the economic downfall and had we not piled our houses and garages with mounds of "stuff," the world would not be in this mess. I could feel the rise of protective nationalism rising in me, and I was thinking of informing her that not only did I NOT have a garage, but that I didn't even have a driveway. I wanted to tell her how I have to park on the curb and how my last car (which I drove for at least eight years and likely ten) was the victim of a hit and run while parked on the curb. I wanted to tell her how I live beneath my means and save and preach to other people to do the same, But, I didn't say any of that, because I agreed with her on the most basic level. America's dependence on debt is a problem. A huge problem. And, it is now a very complex problem. A problem so complex, that it has created a ripple effect and is touching the lives of people who think they should go unscathed by the consequences of other people's choices. I was one of those people, hoping to get through this situation solely depending on my existing well built foundation. Unfortunately, wishing doesn't make it so and my Woobie can't protect me from the extraneous ramifications poignantly related to personal relationships.

The bad news has trickled down to everyday life. The upheaval of jobs has meant the upheaval of long-term co-worker, friend and family relationships. People are losing jobs and seeking employment. But these are no longer other people, strangers if you will, they are our people, our friends, our relatives. Our people are on the move, searching for new Woobies, leaving those of us "lucky" enough to stay behind ... looking for something to fill the deafening silence falling down the rabbit hole. Who knew that silence could be so loud?



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A moment of silence

Please join me in a moment of silence for those slain and those injured earlier today at Ft. Hood Army Base in Killene, Texas.





May those slain, rest in peace, and may those injured, live to see their loved ones and carry on with their precious lives.

Update: 13 slain, 30 injured.