She Walked Away

Gratitude, Frustration, Reflection

What a week! I am grateful for all of it - even though much of it was frustrating.

The honeymoon, I guess, is over with my new job. I now realize it is work - even if I love it. I witnessed for the first time the effects of a mistake (not mine, but one that I may have caught if I wasn't so swamped) that broke my heart and made me sick to my stomach. Professionalism and confidentiality won't allow me to describe it in detail, but I never want to experience another day like Wednesday. The problem was resolved, but it has weighed on my mind since and I have been overwhelmed thinking of potential solutions to prevent it from ever happening again.

That's my problem. I don't leave work at work. I am working to get to the point where I can paint at home, create in my time off, and it can't come quickly enough.

On my way to visit my parents Thursday I was stopped by a State Police officer who claims I failed to yield to him. The law where I live is slow down or move over. I was in the right lane and going under 50 in a 60 speed limit zone. It's my word against his, but I am so frustrated by the whole experience. Expensive AND inconvenient. I guess that's what I get for having a cool (and foreign) car in this ridiculously red state.

Family is always interesting. My parents recently celebrated their 52nd wedding anniversary. I won't air their dirty laundry here, but after Thursday they have me thinking about relationships and how they work. It doesn't happen very often, but I rather like the idea that I might be surprised by someone's affection some day. I'll leave it at that. If you have aging parents, you may know what I mean.

And what of the secret internet crush? and insomnia.

I have been so busy these last weeks that I nearly forgot about my secret internet crush.

I checked in on him today and was NOT disappointed.

Sometimes, when one is busy with life, one forgets to listen not just to his or her own creative voice - but to creativity itself. How I love catching up with people I know - and people I don't know - and people I secretly love - I need to feel the electric charge of creativity. Every day... from every possible source.

From the insomnia files:

I watched an episode of Maude at about 2:30 this morning:

VIVIAN: Look at my hair, it's a disaster.
MAUDE: Well look on the bright side, Vivian. At least it matches your gown.

I was thinking about the name Maude as I tried to fall back to sleep. I remembered how much I loved this movie:

Then I thought of the wonderful soundtrack for the film, so I leave you with this:

 

I eventually fell asleep.

Snow tomorrow

I had a delicious weekend. It was the first weekend since I started my new job during which I had no firm plans on Saturday or Sunday. I had work to do that I could do from home, but I chose to take the weekend off all the same.

I ran errands and drove around in my incredible new car on Saturday. As I sped around with the windows down (in NOVEMBER), my handyman was contiuing to work around the outside of my house. I made a deal with him - part cash, part labor - for my old Honda. He's a really sweet man who really needs a car and he will take great care of Otto. In the meantime, some much needed maintenance and repair is happening all around the outside of my house. A win-win for sure.

When I looked at my repaired garage doors yesterday afternoon, I decided to throw some paint on the garage if the weather allowed it today. The weather cooperated, and I painted all day. I did a pretty mediocre job, but used up some mistint paint that cost next to nothing, and really helped to preserve the wood a little better than I have done in years past.

Parker tried to help and not long after this picture was taken she was sporting a big white spot on the top of her snout.

Wilson minded his own business and kept me safe from squirrel attacks.

Wilson suffered a minor squirrel-related injury when he caught his dewclaw on the fence.

Tonight all is well and we're settled inside with candles burning, waiting on the weather to turn. The dogs and cats are wiped out. I am going to self-medicate with a little cheap wine before going to bed. Outdoor painting is not my strongest skill, but I have had a workout for certain. I'm looking forward to what I can accomplish on the inside of my house over the winter months, knowing that the outside is pretty well buttoned up!

 

Ready for Tuesday

I didn't vote early. Four years ago, I stood in line on the other side of town to vote two weeks early and I am glad I did, but I am really more inclined to stick with routine.

I used to get up on election day - usually a bit cool at 6:30 am - and walk to the polls to vote. It wasn't unusual for me to be the first person to vote in my precinct.

The primary election this year, my polling place changed. I received a yellow card in the mail with a new polling place. It wasn't within walking distance, considering I needed to get to work shortly after voting. When I got to the polls, they told me I wasn't voting there. I understand that poll workers are basically volunteers, so I called the trouble line on the card to find out where to vote. Turns out, I would be voting much closer to home. A longer walk than I was used to, but I could have walked had I known the correct location.

I got to the new place and the machine wasn't working. Just the machine that collects the votes, but still. The poll worker asked me to just leave my ballot with her. I don't think so. I asked to speak with the precinct judge. I was told she left to go to McDonalds. I was really frustrated, for sure, but I was mostly concerned about voters who didn't have the time or resources to drive all over town trying to figure this all out. I waited until they could count my vote, then left. Shaking.

Tuesday, I am hopeful that my new polling place is accurate. I plan to make no secret of how I am voting if anyone is there to conduct an exit poll. I will be heading downtown in the evening to watch returns at a state party where I hope to talk to some newly elected and re-elected officials.