The Missing Yellow

Yep, it's January, almost February, and February is my least favorite month of the whole year.  In the Pacific Northwest February is like a black hole that sucks all of the color out of the world.  February in Washington is a perpetual state of grey.  I would bet that if someone were to do a study about the most requested month of vacation in the PacNW it would be determined that it's February.  And that all of those people are going to Southern California, Vegas, Florida, Mexico and the Bahamas. Who am I kidding, someone probably already did the study, and used tax dollars to fund it, I'm just too lazy to try and find it on Google.

Anyway, the point is, I'm not going anywhere this February.  I'm just going to stay here and work and be grey.  That being said I this whole blog was not intended to bitch about the weather.  The intention was to talk about my favorite color.  Yellow.

Is there a happier color than yellow? No.  Yellow is the epitome of happy.  It's the color of sunshine and lemons and Gerber daisies and Don Johnson's Barracuda in Nash Bridges (I loved that show, I can't help it).

So here are some happy yellow quotes and pictures that will hopefully help us all make it through the grey darkness that is February.

Ignore the tears. I'm just failing at life.

So, it's been awhile since I blogged. Like two weeks I think. The sucky thing about that is that means that I'm super busy. Which means that I need to be blogging, as it's my therapy. But it also means I don't have time to blog. Which means instead of my blogging therapy I get to cry my way home from work every night rather than typing about things order get my needed therapy.

Remember my last blog when I said I was going be fine, I was ready for the challenge I wasn't complaining. Well, now I'm complaining.

I feel like I'm drowning in responsibility and generally failing at life. I don't fail. I don't drown. I tread water until I've figured things out enough to swim with confidence. Generally, I know that I am strong enough to make shit work, get through things and succeed.

There is no doubt in my mind that I will succeed eventually and  that I'm not going to feel like I'm drowning forever. In the mean time, I don't know exactly how to survive.

During these life failing moments I can't quite figure out how to ask for help. As the boss/delegateor/parent/responsible adult in the house I feel like it should be easier to ask for some help. The issue comes when there is no one to ask for help or when the people who are here that are supposed to be helping don't. What exactly do you do then?

Not that I don't have any help. I have an amazing support system. A great assistant, awesome boyfriend and some of the best friends a girl can ask for. But none of them can do the baseball runs after working twelve hours, or pick the kid up from school in the middle of a work day. That support system isn't figuring out what dinner is going to be, or making lunches and cleaning out kitty boxes. They aren't figuring out which bills to pay with this check and which bills to pay with the next one. There is a work/life balance that I have to figure out. As of now I'm failing at figuring that balance out.

I keep telling all my employees that this time next month we'll be laughing at this. They must believe me. I'm not so sure I believe myself. I guess I'll just keep shedding a couple of tears on my way home until things get better and chalk it all up to an alternative form of therapy.

Like a Boss

I've been remiss in my blogging.  At least it seems like it to me.  I realize that the last blog I posted was on Friday but since I wrote it on Tuesday, the last time I actually sat down to write was Wednesday.  So it feels like a long time since I have written anything.  Which sucks.

I got a promotion at work.  Yay me!  It's going to be very challenging, very exciting and very hard.  I have only worked at the new property one day, but since that one day a week ago I have been working on putting out fires and taking care of stuff for that property almost all day every day.

Keep in mind, I'm not complaining.  I asked for this, I thrive in situations where there is always something going on.  I work best under pressure and when people have high expectations of me.  Being bored is a surefire way for me to mess something up.  Since I am a pro at procrastinating I also will put tasks off on purpose just so I can have a bit of pressure while working.

I always forget how exhausting learning new things is.  A lot of work is a lot of work regardless.  But when you are learning new processes, procedures, owners, bosses and employees it's even more exhausting.  I now have two new bosses, seven new employees and two new owners.  I can't remember half of their names on a good day, let alone a day where there are ten fires to put out (funny thing about that, a storage unit at my new property actually caught on fire the other day).

Still not complaining.  I love having seven employees.  I love getting to figure out the nuances and personalities of my new bosses and owners.  I love the challenge that a whole new demographic of residents gives me.

This promotion is a huge opportunity.  It's going to be exhausting and hard and I'm sure that sooner rather than later I am going to be complaining.  Hopefully, I'll somehow find the time between putting out the fires, baseball (which just started in full swing) and everyday life to take out a few minutes more than once a week to blog.  Six paragraphs and I already feel more ready to face the day than I did fifteen minutes ago.  It's kind of like therapy.

Now, I have to go get ready for an owner visit at my new property.  I'm ready for this.  Taking over like a boss.  Oh, wait, I am the boss...

X2 and the Reality of Things

So, my divorce is final today.  It's officially official.  It's kinda been an interesting week.  I did find out that X2 has been reading my blog and it made me feel kind of bad. Not because I regret anything that I said, or because I said anything I didn't think he should know or hear.  If I had been doing that I would have posted these things to a public forum.  I feel bad because everything that I have posted for the past four months has been negative.

Looking back over the past six years they weren't all bad.  They didn't start bad, unfortunately they got bad and ended bad.  Hind sight is 20/20 and the funny thing is that at the end of a story you look back at the story's whole and reflect.  Or at least I do.  I think most people do.  That's why people make resolutions at the end of the year and people give eulogies at the end of life.  When something ends you want to look back on it.

I learned many lessons about what I needed and wanted throughout my second marriage.  I learned a lot about what I would and wouldn't stand for.  This process has helped me learn a lot about forgiveness and a lot about the person that I want to be.  This relationship was an adult relationship whereas my first marriage I feel like we started and ended as children.  It's impossible to not learn from each relationship that you have but your first real adult relationship is chock full of valuable lessons. 

I feel like a lot of people who get divorced aren't willing to admit the things they did wrong, and I am afraid that my blogs have mainly cast the blame outside of me. I am not perfect, nor am I blameless.  I know what I did wrong, both throughout the marriage and while it was ending.  Part of healing is accepting those things. It's a whole lot easier to accept your own faults then it is to forgive the wrongs that you feel were done to you.  Part of the healing process for me has been blogging about it.

Looking back on the past six years it's really easy to focus on the negative things that happened throughout those years that eventually caused my marriage to fail.  The thing is that I don't think that I want to look at all the bad stuff anymore.  There was plenty of good.  I was able to be a parent to two amazing little girls. I was crazy in love with a great guy, who unfortunately lost sight of his greatness, and in turn so did I. X2 and I had a lot of fun together when we were having fun. We overcame crazy obstacles and challenges that would have made a lot of people throw up their hands and give up a whole lot sooner than we did.  We created a lot of memories together and as a family.  I don't regret the relationship and I certainly wouldn't take it back or erase it from my life story.  Everything happens for a reason.  Even this.  

Swing Your Cares Away

I love to swing.  Seriously, for someone who won't ride a roller coaster because of the feeling it gives you in the pit of your stomach, I sure like to swing. Swinging is as close as I can get to flying and still feel in control. Swinging takes you back to being a kid that didn't have any cares or worries on the planet.  One of the happiest things I can do for myself is find a swing.

This past year I discovered the joy of swinging on a beach.  There isn't a whole lot better than being at the beach anyway, but when you add a swing it's pretty much heaven.  

I'm not picky about my swings either.  They can be just about anywhere, or any style. Except tire swings.  I HATE tire swings, I don't want to spin in circles and I really don't want to hit the center pole or the swing next to me.  When I was little a friend of mine fell out of a tire swing and I think that ruined them for me forever.  There is no control when you're in a tire swing.

Anyway, I want a swing, or two, or three.  I want a house with a big porch for a swing (I love porches too), I want a swing on the back deck, I want a big tree with a tree house and a swing. Oh, a hammock is like a swing, I want one of those too. I want a house at the beach next to beach swings.  I want the ability to swing back and forth whenever I want. Whether it be the low calm rocking of a porch swing or the really high exhilarating swings of a tall tree swing.  I want to be able to do it.  I want to lose myself for just a minute and pretend I'm a little kid without a care in the world.  

 

A Boy and His Dog

When PJ was five months old Paul and I decided we were gluttons for punishment and we went and bought a puppy.  Zeus was my first Mother's Day present.  I chose the breed and named him. I wasn't back to work yet and it seemed like the perfect thing to do.  Get a dog while I was staying home with PJ so that I cold train it before I went back to work.  Really I didn't have that much to do.  I was just a 21 year old, first time mom.  No big deal.  

Actually it wasn't that big of a deal.  It was kind of like having twins and only having to change one persons diapers. Zeus was VERY tolerant of PJ.  He was PJ's best friend next to his cousin Demetri.  They crawled around on the floor together, played outside, hung out.  

When Paul and I got divorced I left Zeus with Paul.  He had a yard and a house, whereas I was just going to go live with my mom and then in an apartment.  PJ was there four nights a week and I felt like Paul was in a better position to have a dog then I was.  So then it became the three musketeers, PJ, Paul and Zeus.  But every time I would go over to Paul's to get PJ, or pick something up Zeus would greet me at the door, flop down and my feet and roll over on his back for a belly rub.  He loved to have his belly rubbed.

  

This past Summer while PJ and his grandmother were in Greece and Paul was working I would go over and feed Zeus and let him in and out.  He was always really happy to see me and wanted to run around and be crazy. 

Then in October he got sick.  Really, sick.  He wasn't eating and was throwing up all the time.  Paul was sure he was going to have to put him to sleep.  He lost half of his body weight and a lot of his hair and then one day he started to eat again.  I warned Paul that it may be short lived.  His biggest problem was pancreatitis, which can get better but will always get worse again.  

And it did get worse.  Last month Zeus lost even more weight and more hair and his quality of life was obviously suffering.  So, Paul made the decision to put him to sleep.  PJ has been dealing with it fairly well. Today is the day.  I called this morning before PJ left for school and everyone was in tears.  PJ has had Zeus for as long as he can remember.  They grew up together. 10 years is a long time. 

So, here's to Zeus. A faithful friend, good companion and great dog.  Enjoy your hot air balloon ride to doggy heaven.  We'll miss you. 

Why Can't I Just Gain Weight In My Boobs?

It's that time of Winter again.  It's the point where my soft pale flesh in the mirror brings me to realize that I have to do something besides sit on my sofa, eat chocolate, drink wine and watch How I Met Your Mother. I'm very proud to say that I didn't gain my normal winter 20 this year.  The past few years, by the beginning of January, I have gained 20 pounds that I have to struggle to lose again by the beginning of April.  I manage to keep it off from April through October, probably because I move more in the Summer.  Then, starting in October and continuing through December I manage to pack on 20 pounds again. Not this year.  This year I just got cushy.

After the holidays and two weeks of either being hurt or sick I pretty much feel like a slug. I had a dream last night about running.  I don't run, even when I am exercising.  I'm never going to run.  My old lady knees and hips couldn't take it.  I suppose that the dream is my subconscious telling me to get off of my ass. I know that I need to move more when I actually WANT to exercise.  As we all know I hate exercising.  I've written about it on more than one blog occasion.

Okay, so the general consensus is that I need to move more and eat better and probably stop watching so much HIMYM.  But what am I going to do?  I bought a Groupon for hot yoga a couple of months ago. It's for 20 classes and expires at the end of February.  I should probably use it but that would require going to classes with other people.

Other people are the reason I don't go to gyms.  I don't like it when other people see me sweat, or do any sort of physical activity for that matter.  I'm not sure if middle school gym class is the reason that I feel like such a spaz whenever I do anything that could be construed as a little athletic or if it just has to do with the fact that I am generally a klutz.  I also feel like people are judging my inability to look graceful doing just about anything.  I can walk with heels on pretty good but that's about the extent of my gracefulness. It's weird because I was a cheerleader for four years.  You would think that I would have some kind of hand eye coordination and that my fear of doing physical activity in front of other people would be nonexistent. Interestingly that is just another anxiety that has grown the older I get.

I also bought Just Dance 2014 for the XBox.  Just Dance has a Just Sweat setting.  It keeps track of how much time and presumed calories you burn.  The nice thing about dancing with the XBox is that with the Kinect you don't have to have a controller in your hand.  The problem is that every once in awhile it will show you a video of what you looked like dancing.  I really don't want to see my uncoordinated ass dancing on the TV while struggling to breathe.  I realized over the weekend that the key to keeping that from happening is to dance with all of the lights off.  The camera on the Kinect can still track your movement but when it plays the video there isn't anything to see.

So I guess in reading this I have the tools that I need in place to start firming up the cush.  I just need to do it. So while this isn't a resolution I will say that this is my "don't be a slug" goal, if only because if I write it down it helps me hold myself accountable.

1. Drink 100 ounces of water per day.
2. Exercise three hours a week.
3. Do 15 squats every time I go to the bathroom.
4. Use the yoga Groupon - conquer that fear

Maybe using the yoga groupon will help me get over the fear of working out in front of people.  Either that or I'll have a panic attack.  I guess we'll see.

I'm Pretty Sure That Given A Cape and A Nice Tiara I Could Save The World

In looking for a blog topic today "What would you do if you were Superwoman?" was an idea tossed on the table, to which I immediately responded "Wait, I already am Superwoman". 

Let's just say I was a superhero though.  Would I want to be Superwoman or Wonder Woman or neither. 

Growing up I had a bit of a X-Men fascination.  This probably had something to do with the fact that I have a brother who is three years younger that loved the X-Men, I was a bit of a tomboy and I thought Wolverine was hot. I actually had a poster of Wolverine smoking a cigar underwater that hung on the wall in the basement for years.  It might still be there.  

 Anyway, growing up I always thought Rouge was great and I wanted to be her. She was hot, Wolverine was uber protective of her, she got to make out with Gambit, she could absorb anyone's mutant powers just by touching them (or kissing them), oh and did I mention she was hot. 

I always really like Storm too.  I think that my fascination with the weather may have started with her.  How amazing would it be to be able to make the weather do WHATEVER YOU WANTED!!  Want some snow? Okay give me a minute.  Oh, you're too cold.  Let me just move this high pressure system in and shift the winds a little bit.  I can warm it up. Oh, and did I mention that she was hot?

Needless to say, I am not a mutant, nor can I control the weather and I certainly don't absorb other peoples super powers by touching them with my bare skin.  I also don't have gravity defying boobs, a 12 inch waist or white hair.  So I guess I'll stick to being Super Woman, those are powers that I can claim.  Super strength, great intelligence and the ability to tackle any task.  All I need now is a cape and a tiara and I could save the world. Or at least my little corner of it.