Who is In?

So a few years ago I thought about the best parts of X-mas gifting. Here was my list:

1. Giving the perfect gift to someone - the perfect one - that lights them up.
2. Receiving the perfect gift - the one you want - but would never feel okay about splurging on.
3. Wrapping paper - I like the wrapping and unwrapping. 
4. The look of surprise on your loved one's face. 

So I came up with this brilliant plan to get all of the above:

1. You and your gift recipient come up with a budget for the gift. 
2. You go out and buy yourself the exact present you want. Your recipient does the same and gets whatever they want.
3. You wrap yours and your partner wraps their own gift.
4. On X-Mas you switch gifts and open the other person's gift to themselves. Allowing for unwrapping and surprise. I think it would be so fun to see what the other person really wanted, plus you still get your present back - giving you the perfect gift too.

Who is with me?

Nervous

Well two people are reading my second draft of the screenplay and I am nervous. I hope they like it. Although it isn't the kind of thing I think either of them would normally gravitate too.

I feel like a nervous Mom who's sent her kid to the first day of school. Hoping the other kids like her and if they influence her that it's all for the best.

Decorating?

I feel so torn this year. I love to decorate the house for the holidays. I had stopped for a few sad years and then started up again about three years ago.

It made me so happy to sit reading a book with the twinkle of Christmas lights all over the place. Aside from a few whaps at ornaments and lots of naps under the tree my Finny was a well behaved elder statescat. I miss her so much this year. I just knew last year that is would likely be the last Christmas holiday with my girl. I made a point to enjoy every moment I had with her.

Enter our boy. We just adore him. He is so crazy though, and such a klutz. I know he will be unable to resist, well, everything. I think instead of a star at the top of the tree we will have a very ample-sized kitten.

Ornaments? They don't stand a chance.

The mantle? Questionable. With stockings? Um, no.

The "snow-covered" mini trees on the pass-thru? Dangerous.

The white feather theme? Seems a risky choice at this time.

The delicate glass icicles? Um, maybe never again.

Real

I finished the second draft of the screen play (someday book). Yippee! I think it probably needs a little breather to gain objectivity and then another go through.

I started to write it as a book too. It seems to take a totally different part of my brain, and it's oddly disconcerting.

I've been working on it for such a long time - and thinking about for far longer than that.

It was really the oddest thing though. Last night when hubby brought me the first printed out copy I had the most emotional reaction. It felt so real, so substantial suddenly. I almost started to cry.

Funny how being able to touch something in your hands makes it so different.

Working

I've started my review of my first draft. Overall I think I had a good first effort. I've thought of some things to add in, and found some things to take out so far.

I feel like I really know and understand all the characters now.I get what makes them tick, and how they would react. Now I just have to make sure it's clear to the audience, but without being too clear either.

I feel like it's going to come together though. I wasn't always so sure it would. Writing smaller things it's easier to see where you are going, and tweak what you started when it ends differently than you thought. When you have hundred and twenty pages of content it's daunting to think of changing direction - even a small change ripples through.

For the longest time I felt like I was all changes. Next time I may do this whole process a little differently. Not sure how, but maybe different, or maybe not. Maybe all I was missing when I started was faith in the fact it would all work out. 

No Reason

Over the last few days, I have encountered an unexpected feeling of anxiety. I don't have a great reason for it, but I keep tripping over it just the same.

Everything is going pretty well actually. I wonder if that is part of the anxiety?

I used to think every time something good happened, something bad was coming. Cosmic karma if you will. I think it was my way of feeling like I controlled the Universe. So if I didn't allow myself to admit, and enjoy the good things, then the bad thing wouldn't come. On some level, it made perfect sense to me. Except it kept me from ever really enjoying life.

I've come a long way, but maybe I haven't completely left it behind. Maybe remnants are still rooted deep, like tree roots waiting to trip me up. I think it's time to hunt out the emotional tree stump and pull it out.

Guess what?

Okay there is still lots of steps to go, but...

I finished the first draft of my screenplay/book. Of course in my head - it was finished a long time ago. It's already a movie, playing for an audience of one.

All those years of it being in my head, haunting me, and now it's all out on the page, and on a flash drive.

I feel relieved, but a bit daunted by all the steps still to come. I will worry about all that later, today I am just going to bask in a sense of accomplishment.

Fall!

What makes you realize Fall is here?

Living in Nevada it is sometimes hard to tell. It's almost October 1, and you wouldn't know it was Fall based on the temperature - it's still in the 90's. It always feels like it's warm until about the week of Halloween, and then the next week Winter sets in.

As for changing leaves, well we only have about 10 trees in the state that change leaf color. I don't mean 10 species of trees either - I mean 10 actual trees. Okay, I might be exaggerating, but I don't think so. Those 10 trees have a real problem too, by the time they realize they need to start changing their leaves, it's time to start dropping them.

I love Fall though. If I had my way, Summer would end on July 5th. Well, maybe give it another week or two, move up Labor Day and then right into Fall.

So what tells me Fall is here?

It used to be seeing Halloween and Thanksgiving decorations in the craft store. But now they are putting those out in July. Actually I think they are taking my wishes seriously. Yay for me.

The way I really feel like Fall is here? Magazines. I received two magazines in the mail this week and both of them featured Fall! Halloween and Thanksgiving were all over them! I want to roast a vegetable so bad! I'm off to the store to get a butternut squash and a sweet potato.

I'm changing over to my Fall air fresheners too. Hello Cinnamon and Nutmeg! Welcome back!

Maybe I'll just turn down the A/C so it feels cold.

More Random

Well the Mammogram was all good. I didn't need to worry after all. I hate going to the Doctor. It gets me so stressed out. I think even more as I get older - and I know it's rarely fun and games. So check the chore off the list for now, and add on Dentist. Sigh.

So I abandoned my baby kitten (okay he is almost six months) for two whole days. Of course I pushed all of the anxiety on him in my mind. Meanwhile, I was more nervous than he was I'm sure. He has remained attached to my leg (sometimes literally) since I came home. Poor kitten.

We had such a nice time, but I have to admit I am a homebody... and my body prefers to be home too. I mentioned recently about my issues with hives... so when there are changes to my world, my body gets crabby and hivey.

I have spent so much time over the last few years trying to keep things the same, because of the anticipation of pain.It has made me think of my life in small terms, and I want to start thinking of my life in bigger terms. I want to think big and be small (in size), instead of the reverse.

Random

Pardon the randomness of news today.

Item One - I went for a mammogram today. I don't know if you know, but I have a condition that causes me to get hives from physical pressure. So you can imagine the day after a mammogram is not a lot of fun for me. Glad it's over though.

Item Two - I get an email from Amazon letting me know about products and books I might be interested in. I appreciate they care about me enough to give me ideas on how to spend money. Seriously I like a well thought out recommendation. So today I noticed Housecat Confidential as a subject line in an email from Amazon. That's right they recommend my own book to me. Apparently I am my own customer! How fun is that?

Item Three - I am about 7 pages away from finishing the first draft of my screenplay/future book!! I am so excited to finish. All this storyline swirling in my head for so long, and finally it is almost all out of me and on the page. I have lots of rewrites ahead of course, but I am going to be so happy to see complete. I always worry that I don't have the fortitude to finish what I start, so when I accomplish something it's a big deal for me. 

Fall?

Fall? Where are you buddy?

I miss you. It is too darned hot still. Mr Summer has overstayed his welcome here.

I can't wait to start to walk outdoors again. Actually to do anything outside really.

I feel like I hibernate all Summer, and come out of my cave around this time of year. I feel like the Groundhog of Groundhog Day fame. I stick my head out of my warren, and if it's over 100 degrees it's going to be two more weeks of Summer.

I shall continue to look for you pal.

Rough Week

The best part of working at home?

When you have one of those days at the office - when you just wish you could have a good, five-minute cry in your bed - you can.

Okay, maybe it isn't the best part. I do love my furry co-worker too.

The worst part of working from home?

Knowing all the work you have piling up on your desk is only twenty-five feet away from your bed - with a kitten lounging on it. 

Some days I can tell any rough patch is, at least in part hormonally-charged, but I think I had some legitimately rough edges this week.

Although the desire to hook-up an IV drip of chocolate by the desk - does point back to hormones.

I have a couple of days of vacation, making for a very long weekend. I am thrilled. I plan on averting my eyes whenever I walk past my office. Quill might not appreciate the lock-out.

He enjoys putting in the full eight - he even puts in overtime and sleeps through lunch.

Who me?

I had the oddest call the other day. Some nice lady called me to ask me about my charge card. Had I been shopping that morning?

Nope.

Did I buy a hundred bucks worth of perfume?

Um, never in my life.

Did I spend a couple hundred at a jewelry store?

No, but I wish! Hey Hubby, did you buy me any presents today? Hm, no.


How about four hundred at a lingerie store-

Stop right there, Uh, you got the wrong lady!

Someone stole my credit card number, and they were out in the world having a great time with it.  A far better time than I have ever had with it for sure.

I was so grateful a they noticed the odd spending pattern in the same day it started. They were able to take steps to cancel my card immediately.

Apparently my cheap ways made it easy to spot the change quickly and efficiently. So at least there's good news.

Alarming

I finally decided to say goodbye to my alarm clock. The on and off button for the radio has been broken for ages. It never worked well, then after years of struggling to push it on and off, it broke in the off position. I don't use the radio - except for waking up of course - so I wasn't too concerned. It still came on in the morning, and turned off, if I used the switch to turn off the alarm.

Sure I had no way of knowing what the sound volume was like - always a surprise in the morning. Would I hear it at all - or would it blow me out of the sheets. No wonder Fin and Quill hated it so.

I typically always wake up before my alarm goes off. Years of a fur alarm named Fin helped. I don't care to hear alarms at all. I stop the microwave seconds before it goes off too, for the same reason. 

Quill is happy to sleep in, so when I saw alarm clocks on sale in a Back to School sale, I decided it was time to go for a new one yesterday. I was pretty excited when I plugged her in. I set right to getting the time correct.

I discovered it has a weekday and a weekend alarm. Sweet.

It figured out the time zone automatically - and changes itself when the time changes! Seriously!

Well last night came the best part. The power transformer down the street was struck by a car and all the power went out in the middle of the night. After about an hour the power came back on - thankfully. Of course it was a Saturday night, I wasn't too worried about setting the time, so I didn't.

I woke up this morning, expecting to be disoriented by not knowing the time, and I looked over to discover it had set itself! Yep my new super-charged alarm clock set itself to the correct time. I guess it scans (something?) and sets its own time.

All this for $19.99! I wonder if it makes breakfast too?

Balance

Saturday I went out shopping with a good friend who used to be my co-worker. She moved on to a new position about six months before I did. Her departure was part of what convinced me to look. I saw how happy she was in her new job, and it encouraged me.

Talking with her again, I was reminded about how frustrated I had been in my old job. I have a serious disease to please - and in the end, it ends up displeasing me. Each time I start a job, I promise myself I am not going to fall into the same trap, but eventually I find myself ending up there anyway. I want so much to do a good job, and get my figurative pat on the head. I end up sacrificing myself in the bargain.

I always try to go above and beyond. I guess that wouldn't be a bad thing except, eventually above and beyond becomes the new normal. It becomes the expectation I have to live up too. So I bring it up another notch... and so on.

Cut to five years later and I am typically exhausted and bitter. Yet it really is my own fault. I am not good at setting boundaries. I am not good at stepping back, and saying it's okay to let some things go. Instead I get a giant case of the "It's Not Fair!" and become a martyr.

When I get to this point of overload, I'm too tired to move on. So afraid wherever I go will be worse than where I am. I hate being in that bad place. So afraid of what could be out there, that I stop imagining what could be out there for me. 

Why do I always assume the grass is browner on the other side?

How do I keep myself true to going above and beyond when it's required, but learning to put myself first when it's not? 

Looking Forward

My hubby found my senior class picture recently. It was such an odd experience for me. I thought about two things.

One - I really like the original color of my hair. It has been years since I have really seen that color. I had totally forgotten what color it used to be, before dye. It was like a dark, reddish blonde. Kinda of like a light auburn, but not like the colors I've tried from a box. So how much of a dork do I seem if I bring my senior picture into the salon and say - make my hair this color?

Two - Hubby asked me what I was thinking about with my serious face photo in my pearls. I'm sure I was thinking something like "Like, this is my SENIOR picture! Like, I hope it turns out cute, like it's my SENIOR picture!" Yes, I, like, was a Valley Girl.

It did get me thinking though.. what did that girl want to be when she grew up? If she saw where she landed at 46 would she be surprised? Would she (like) be (like) disappointed?

She thought she would be an actress. She did like writing, but she thought everyone could do it. I do think she would be upset at the state of her butt... and I know she would tell me to dye this (like) mousey gray mop of hair.

Working Vacation

I took a couple of days off this week. No plans, just not working. I am really enjoying my new job now, but I had started to feel a little penned in. It was time to take some time off. It's funny to think that the only real difference between a work day and a vacation day is a stroll down the hallway and a turn into my office.

Before I started my new job, I had been so worried about being dedicated to working while still being in my house. So often, I avoid working on my own creative endeavors within these walls, and I worried I would feel the same way about real life work.

I don't though. I work with ease and dedication when someone is counting on me. Even when I am not feeling it, I plunge in and do it anyway. After a while, I lose myself in acronyms and procedures and before I know it the day is done and work was accomplished.

So I realized my resistance to writing my own work is all in my head, or maybe my heart. Fear is a powerful force.

With empty vacation days looming on the horizon I wasn't sure what to do with myself. I felt the same sense anxiousness I always do. Knowing in my heart I should be doing the thing that brings me peace and yet somehow is the thing I often deny myself. 

I decided to try an experiment today. I walked down the hall and turned into my office with my own laptop in tow. I dedicated myself with the same level to my own work that I get paid for every other day. It was a weird sensation to sit in the same spot, and feel that sense of dedication, but this time to myself.

I got down to work and looked up four hours and five pages later. Turns out all that time writing in my head makes writing on the page a little easier. As I write this I am afraid that tomorrow I will revert to my old ways, but I pray I will choose love and joy over silly fears.

Son Day - Mom Style

So last night I woke up at two in the morning, nothing unusual. I headed to the bathroom, nothing unusual there either. These days Quill joins me in the bathroom, so he can partake of the spare litter box, or the dish of kitten chow.

Even in my drowsy state, I realized something was off. What was it? Hm. Wait, no kitten. Odd. Surely he is going to be coming along shortly...

Hand washing and still a no show. I tried to think back to when I felt him next to me in the night... I had no recollection of him coming to bed. Panic started to set in. He always comes to bed with me. He had stayed up late playing with hubby, but still he should have been right behind me.

I started to check all his usual spots, and nothing. I rechecked them all again, this time calling his name in ever increasing decibels. Full-On Freak Out anyone? Yes please!

I woke hubby up and we looked again. I went into the garage and in a complete panic went outside. Suddenly a sleepy-eyed Quill strolled out of my office, confused by all the fuss. I scooped him up and snuggled him with a vengeance.

I spotted his kitten hidey-hole this morning. He is getting behind the books on the bottom shelf of the bookshelf. He is really a cave kitten.

I just love this picture of us that Trish took. Whenever he is unsure, I am his security blanket. As long as he can get behind me, all is right with the world for my sweet boy.

Hostile Work Environment

The other day I was sitting at my desk and my co-worker, kitten Quill, was busy killing something by my foot. I started to feel a little pawing at my leg, but I brushed him aside without much thought.

You see my boy is often confused on what (or who) is a climbing tree. Usually he scurries up the back of my chair (picture Velcro kitten), uses my back for the last foot, and then leaps from my shoulder onto my keyboard.

I've learned to save my work often... and wear high collars.

So back to the pawing - suddenly he got the idea he could just use the front of me as his climbing post. Claws in the leg and claw in the breast. It was not good. So I shouted out -

"That chit is not professional!!"

Of course this made me giggle, as I wiped away the blood. I do love my boy, but his work ethics are sketchy. I may have to report this as a hostile work environment.

Switched

For those of you who read my cat blog, you already know about the kitten switcheroo of 2012. Hubby had wanted another girl. So I had looked for a female kitten. We found Quill and were busy falling in love with our new little girl. We took her to the vet a week and a half later, and after a thorough groping by the vet, we had ourselves a boy instead.

Dude looked like a lady.

I don't even know why exactly, but it was such a shock to me. I think I was afraid in the moment the vet announced the misunderstanding, that hubby would not accept Quill. My fear could not have been farther from the truth, and I knew that too. Hubby embraced his new boy without a backwards glance. Hubby has an amazing gift - once he welcomes you into his heart - that is where you stay - no matter what.

I think I also feared in that moment that maybe I had chosen the wrong kitten. I had worked myself into such a frenzy about choosing the right kitten. One we would love, and you would love too. If I missed a sign as clear (or unclear) in this case as the sex, what other signs did I miss? Suddenly everything I thought about her, now him, was turned around. The girly blog I had planned, the point of view I imagined, were all changed now.

Watching him purring safely on my arm when we got home I had a revelation. I realized the switch was a gift. One I would never have thought to ask for, but was exactly what I needed. Suddenly I had no comparisons to Fin. I was free to fully love this boy for everything he is. In a case of nothing is a coincidence, I had spent the week blogging about how much I loved my first boy Eugene. Now I had a new boy to love, and love him I do.

This little boy had sneaked by all my defenses, and pounced straight into my heart. Sometimes, despite your best efforts, you don't always get what you want, but you get what you need, and it turns it's what you wanted all along.

Did you need to use this keyboard?

First Friday

Okay friends, you get the first peak again...

I think she is enjoying her Mom's lap. Looks like a smiler.

She's still a little shy for her own blog just yet.

We're still deciding on a name, but I think it will be a variation of Quill (Quilly or Quillian). I was joking about naming a new kitty Sequel and then I thought of Quill. Sorta fitting for a writer's cat. She loves the keyboard and adding in her two cents too.

She is so tiny. She was rescued at about five weeks from her stray Momma with a brother and sister. The very nice woman who rescued her had already fallen in love with her. She said she was the bravest of the kittens and the natural ringleader. She is probably about six and a half weeks now, we scooped her up on Tuesday night. Still a little skittish around hubby but she was around me too at first.

I had gotten to a place where I thought my grieving was almost done. Mother's Day was awful, getting Fin's ashes back was horrible, but I thought I was doing okay. I think I was just stalling fully grieving over my girl with my kitten frenzy. Suddenly I had a kitten, but I was struck with the sadness I had been holding back, when I realized no other baby would be my Finny. Not that I will love a new kitty less, but she isn't Fin and that made me sad in a way I had tried to avoid. 

The good news is that it's hard to be sad for long when you have a bouncing kitten ready to make you laugh. Bouncing kitten is good healing.

Wordless Wednesday - Sorta

See, and you thought subscribing to my personal blog wouldn't get you any special perks.

I'm not ready to share the details yet, but I thought you might enjoy this tiger-striped leg.

Refreshing

We are taking this moment in time to do some refreshing in the house. Well, we're considering anyway. Yet it seems like every time we consider changing anything it is a struggle. By and large, Hubby and I have similar taste, so you would think it would be easy, but it never is.

We agonized for years over the color of the outside of our home. It seems we can't get a new comforter without needing to change everything from the carpet to the appliances. It seems a big jump right? But it's easy. Let me walk you through it.

So we'll change the comforter.
Wait, the paint doesn't match. I guess we need to repaint. We totally do!
Wait, the new paint wont match the curtains - Okay then, we'll change curtains too.
Hmm. Nothing matches carpet now - Well, it's got to go anyway. We can't afford to re-carpet. But we have to, it doesn't match anything anymore.
Gee, I wish that sofa could go too.
We really would need a new fridge before we can change the sofa.
Okay a new fridge then.
What color would we go with? Cream goes with what we have, but the stainless looks nice. We should probably replace them all. I mean they need to all match.
There's no way we can afford all that.
Okay no new comforter then. 

Chirp!

When I said the house was too quiet to work this weekend - I think someone got the wrong idea. I was praying for the pitter-patter of tiny paws to find their way to me.

I see now I needed to be specific. Sure, the house was far from quiet today, but not in the way I hoped. Ten minutes after hubby left this morning I heard a load chirp.

"What was that?"

"Chirp!"

"Is that inside the house?"

"Chirp!"

"Seriously, what is that?"

"Chirp!'

At this point I could no longer ignore my new companion. Upon investigation, I discovered it was the shrill voice of the smoke alarm in the bedroom. Apparently, just wanting to let me know it's battery needed changing.

"Chirp!"

"Okay. I got it. But you are 13 feet in the air and I can't carry the ladder in here myself. So you're just gonna need to keep it down till hubby gets home tonight."

"Chirp!"

"Seriously? You're gonna keep this up all day?"

"Chirp!"

Open

It has been a week friends. Losing my kitty has been so hard, and I know many of you have had the same experiences with ones you've loved. I knew she was going to leave us for awhile. I think it did help me in some ways to prepare myself for her loss. I had prepared my mind and my heart as much as I could. I see now, how depressed I was over the last few months, knowing the loss was coming.

I expected to be sad, but then there are all the moments I didn't plan for. The first time my husband left the house and there was no singing. The first time I came home without a floofy belly to greet me. Realizing I could leave a glass of water by my bedside without fear of cat saliva. Brushing my teeth and being able to spit without worrying about hitting a cat head. Closing a door in my house, any door other than the hall closet where the Evil Dyson lives, without an angry serenade.

As sad as this week has been it has also been filled with very touching moments. Reading all the comments from all over the world has touched our hearts. Animal people are great people.

When I think about writing, I ask for the inspiration to write things that make others feel something, or think about something in a new way. Often it is through laughter, but what ever the tone in the end I want my words to mean something to my reader. As we read all those beautiful words sent by others, I realized I have touched people with my words. Sure they were spoken as my beloved cat, but they spoke to our  humanity.

I remember a literary agent read our book and her critique was that the book was just about my cat. She asked what was special about my cat - did she do anything special?

"Like cure cancer? No, she's just a housecat... She doesn't get out too much." I said, knowing that I would probably need to self-publish.

I didn't have the right answer then, but I do now... Of course she was special, but she was also no more special than the kitties in the lives of my readers. If you love them, all cats are special. All cats are perfectly imperfect when you love them.

I have had a few people ask me if I will get another pet - knowing how sad these moments are - and the answer is yes, of course. I would never trade all the joy and love that came before to avoid this pain. Pain is fleeting and it too has its lessons to teach me. My heart is still broken, but it's also open.

Passing

It is with the heaviest heart that I report that our beloved Finny De Floof has left this world.

I think all of you who know me here know of my beloved kitty Fin. For those of you who don't know she was diagnosed with gastrointestinal lymphoma back in November.She was so sick at the time I never dreamed she would live this long, but my girl was a tiger.

She lived comfortably for the most part, with a few bad spells that she had always managed to pull out of. Each bad spell took it's toll though, and she grew progressively thinner and weaker. When she stopped eating on Sunday, even with the appetite enhancing pills, we knew the time was coming.

We waited till yesterday afternoon, just in case she was able to rally again. When I carried her out onto her beloved porch and she tucked her head into my chest - we knew the time had come. She was helped to the bridge by the kind vet who diagnosed her and her Dad beside her.

I knew my hysterical sobbing would only cause all of us more pain. I stayed behind so her spirit could find her way back to me. I'm sure it did too. I feel her all around me - oddly enough hovering around my water cup.

She was a perfectly imperfect cat that we couldn't have loved more.

Fin

Block Three

Perfection is a hard thing to achieve. To expect it of yourself in a first draft is just mean.

As a trainer I would never expect my trainees to be perfect, or anywhere close to perfection on the first try. I would never sit in judgement and assume they would never be good enough to do the job based on those first tentative steps.

I would encourage them. I would ease their fears. I would tell them that competence would come in time and perfection had no place in the process. If they were scared I would make them do it anyway - knowing that they would be successful and gain confidence.

So why am I so hard on myself? Why do I expect perfection on the first try and consider anything less as - unworthy of attempt? My creative endeavors often begin ugly and unformed. Words tumble out of my brain rambling and unfocused - not yet ready for sharp scrutiny. Perfection shouldn't be expected.

At the end of the day - words just need to be written - one at a time. Sometimes they flow easily and sometimes they need to be dragged into the light of day kicking and screaming. My job is just to listen and write them down.

Perfection is a long way off. Enjoy the journey.

Block Two

My next block was a worry that I had about dedication.

I have always been a person who is very driven at working for someone else. I have also been a person who is un-motivated when it comes to working for myself.

I worried that if I was allowed to work at home writing that I would be unable to work and accomplish things. I am in month three of my new job of working from home. I am happy to report I am just as dedicated to my work when I am home.

So I've proved to myself that I can be dedicated and get a full days work done on a daily basis. Would I be that dedicated if I was writing the things I want to write - rather than the things I am getting paid to write? Well it's still a question, but I see it for what it is now.

It's fear. It's another block in the wall of things that hold me back. I now know that I am capable of great dedication to work even at home. So would I rather write about worky stuff or about my screenplay, or novel, or this blog, or my new cat book? I think the answer is clear.

Since writing the things I feel passionate about doesn't pay the bills yet, I will be filling my off-hours with the same dedication to my own ideas. Don't I deserve to have the same level of dedication for myself that I give so freely to others?

Yes I do. Block broken and slowly being removed.

Block One

My first block came down recently in the most unexpected way. I did an exercise awhile back where I had to complete this sentence:

A writer is....

I was surprised by my answers. A writer was - lots of things I am not. Snooty, full of themselves, condescending, and pompous. I think those must have come from watching too much TV because it's not the case in any writers I actually know.

A writer was also some things I was more familiar with like unemployed, poor and frustrated. Why did I want to be a writer?

My answers weren't all bad. Writers were also well-educated, famous, and great with grammar.

I can't deny that there are some writers who are probably are some or all of those things. None of that really matters though because I am none of those things (okay maybe frustrated). Was I afraid I would be become someone totally different if I reached the elusive title of Writer? At some level yes I was. It's like Being a Writer was some magic wand that would totally transform me. Or if I couldn't be those things that I would be denied access to some secret club.

That block was broken by all things the Internal Revenue Service. On this year's taxes I finally made enough money to have to declare myself a Writer.

I am still me - minus one block of fear. I know it seems silly but it has been incredibly freeing. So friends is there something you want to be but are afraid to be? Try to answer your sentence and see if there might be some deep dark thoughts holding you back.

Unblocking

It's funny how the oddest things sometimes can cause you to move forward.

Maybe I'm not alone, but I admit I have a few blocks that keep me from being what I most want to be. Blocks for me come down to one thing, fear. Fear that stands between me and the destiny I feel has been laid out for me. Destiny that I seem to fight for reasons I do not always understand.

I spent so many years floundering down different creative paths trying to find where I fit. My family is filled with talented artists and I tried to follow their footsteps, but nothing ever felt right. Painting was hard. Drawing was impossible. Sculpture was laughable.

Writing was easy. I thought that it must be easy for everyone.  

When I realized that writing was the path for me I was thrilled. What had always been easy would certainly continue to be so right? Wrong. Suddenly what had been easy - also became hard. I started to get hung up on the same things I did before - just dressed in a new form. Fear was back - not as paralyzing - but everything became difficult again.

I plan on busting down those blocks one at a time because I am tired of them being in my way. Maybe my sharing those blocks with you will help you to clear out blocks of your own, or at least it will help me to really get past them myself. I think that once fear sees the light of day it's going to be harder to go back to being a block. Let's get ready to rumble!

Off and On

Week three of my new job and I swing wildly from feeling like I may be getting it, and other moments when I am equally sure I am not. I have one foot in trainee mode and the other foot in doing real work. Neither footing feels particularly firm at this moment.

I'm sure it will all pass in time. There will come a day when I will say "I got this" - I just hope it comes sooner rather than later. In the meantime I will hold my head frequently so as not to allow it to burst.

I'm so grateful to have a new job. I really do feel it found me as much as I found it, so I have full faith that it will all be okay. Deep breath. I guess I am just not used to being this out of my depth at work - at home, that's another story.

I don't know what to do with my kitty blog. My girl is doing better than expected, but she's not doing much in the way of pawparazzi-worthy frolicking. I go from being sure I should try again to retire the blog for now, to being sure I should find another way to make it all work (cat-a-lympics headquarters, get a new kitten, or who knows what else).

I need to get back to writing again too. I've been on too long of a break from it and I feel out of sorts as a result.

I need to find my center. In the meantime thanks for reading my rantings. I hope to rally very soon.

Made It!

Well the first week of the new job is over. My brain is so full. I'm still a pudding-head, but I am starting to feel a few things settling in though, so that's promising. I guess you could say the pudding is starting to set.

That reminds me of... pudding. I got a cookbook from the library and it has a recipe for pudding using tofu... um, I just don't know. I have to say I am skeptical. For reasons I can not explain, I am somehow less skeptical of the recipes for brownies and fudge made with black beans.

I think I am going to give em a try this weekend. I mean how amazing would it be to have delicious brownies that were actually good for you. Yep, I'm living the dream friends.

What do you have planned for this weekend friends?

It's Here!

So day two of the new job and so far so good. I am a little brain dead with all the new things I am learning.

I feel like I've landed in another country, and the language is something I've never heard. Sure I know most of the words, but they are used in unfamiliar combinations. I'm sure it will all come together at some point, but for now I am trying to let it all soak in gradually.


I met my mentor today. The one who belongs to the writer's group from down the street. She is delightful. I'm hopeful we can forge a nice friendship on common ground.

I'm too much of a pudding head to manage too many more thoughts tonight.

I got a request for a meeting that starts at 4am my time tomorrow morning. I think that has to be optional right?

Take Care

I am well on the mend after the tooth outing. Ready for business, if not yet for really solid food. I had a long weekend to recoup and I have to say it got me thinking.

What is it about being sick that allows me to take care of myself far better than when I am well? When I am sick, I listen to my body.

I sleep when I'm tired, even if it's at 6pm on a Friday. I get up when I am no longer tired, even if it's at 4am on a Sunday.

I put down the laptop and welcome my kitty Finny into my lap, even when I have writing to do. We watch TV or read books together (I do most of the reading). I tell my husband what I want when he asks if he can get me something.

I eat when I am hungry and I don't when I'm not hungry.  I eat what will nourish me and stay away from things that will be harmful for me.

I got a visceral reaction when the waitress put down my breakfast yesterday. "This is way too much food for a lady with a sore jaw." I thought. The realization that it was also way too much food for a lady without a sore jaw rushed in right after. I've had to eat slowly and consider each bite, and I like that it has made me enjoy each bite and know when enough was enough.

I'm so grateful that I am healing well and getting better all the time, but I think I will take some of the things I've learned from being sick and try to get better all the time.

Yippee!

I recently posted about the fact that I had turned into the office curmudgeon and I was determined to change myself back into the joyful person I am meant to be. I am very excited to report that I have a new job! As of the end of February I will be a Senior Instructional Designer.

I had spent a great deal of time thinking about all the things I really hoped for in a job. I wanted to write and be creative for a living. I wanted to still be connected to a group of great co-workers and have a great boss. This job has all those things.

The funny thing is that it's not the job I initially applied for, but it seems the right job found me instead.

Turns out that the nice woman who interviewed me for the original job thought I should have this job instead. She contacted my new boss and mentioned me, they contacted a recruiter who asked if I minded being considered for a promotion instead.  I said it would be fine. The next thing I knew I had an interview and a new job offer.

I was still wrestling with the choice to leave my current job and having a difficult time with the decision. I like so many of the things about my current job, and I wished it could become the job I needed to move forward.

I suddenly remembered a dream I had when I applied for the job inititally. I had wrestled with the decision to look for a new job at all and I had asked for a sign and that night the dream came. In the dream I was faced with a decision to follow my family down a scary staircase that was also a waterfall, I think we all remember how graceful I am, I was afraid of falling so I decided to find an elevator instead.

The elevator ride was even scarier it turned out, and it dropped me off far from my destination. I had to spend the rest of the dream struggling to find my way back to my loved ones. I realized that the message I was being sent was that no matter how scary the obvious path looks, in the long run it's less scary than not following it. It is the obvious path for a reason.

Even though change is scary for me, I can see that this is clearly the obvious path. I am heeding the message the universe was kind enough to send to me (multiple times and in multiple formats) and following the path towards the future.

Off

Do you ever just feel... off.

There's nothing wrong with me (well no more than I can usually claim anyway). It seems like I'm sandwiched right between feelings. I'm not really on one side, or the other. When I do find myself on one side of a feeling, I feel like I am on the wrong side.

I'm not in a full-on funk, maybe call it a funklet. I try not make big decisions when I feel this way, for fear any decision I would make would be off too.


I think I'll write in my journal to see if I can get back on. There's something transforming about writing something down. I typically try to write three pages in a journal a day, and there is something magical about those three pages.

The first page is usually all the blather on the surface of my mind, and is rarely inspiring or enlightening. Somewhere on the second page my mind runs out of blather and I sit stumped for content. Then the magic starts to happen, as suddenly my mind shifts to a deeper place and I start to see a pattern in a situation or a mental thread appears that I can unravel. Often by the time I make it to page three all the thoughts in my head are in clear focus, and I could go on to page four and five.

There are also days when by page two I have nothing, and by page three I am scraping the bottom of the mental barrel and coming up dry with every sentence a struggle.You just never know what you're gonna get when you're off.

Walking Wounded

Well I'm back in the saddle again. Still a bit sore and a bit of a black eye to show for my efforts. I look kinda gangsta if I must say so myself. I think it's totally gonna up my street cred. I had almost none before, so any boost at all can only be a good thing.

I was super excited to learn at the doctor's office that my resting heart rate and my blood pressure have both dropped considerably since I started walking. Yippee! I guess despite "The Incident" I will be carrying on with my walks.

I'm so grateful I did not do worse to myself. I am a big klutz and as I mentioned this isn't the first time I have fallen flat. Do you ever in your mind's eye see yourself as you're going down. Cause I usually do, and even when I have hurt myself I can't seem to help myself from laughing at the whole thing.

I'm fine so feel free to give a little giggle at this incident or this prior incident.

I was taking some medicine that made me dizzy, but it was helping so much that I was willing to just let it go and keep taking it. I had a sudden thought that made me dash out to the garage. I opened the garage door and was about half out when I got that sinking feeling. One minute I was up and the next I was headed down.

I was very lucky because I fell into a pile of tires... butt first. So there I was with my butt wedged into a stack of about three tires. What are the odds? I wasn't too worried.

I got this.

Except I didn't have it and I was not going anywhere. My rump was about two tires in and I couldn't get my arms up high enough for leverage to get out. I knew if I managed to knock my set up sideways that I would end up hitting my head. So I did the only thing I could think of.

I giggled.

Then I saw my husband and my neighbor within yelling distance and I did the only thing I could think of.

I giggled harder. The visual of me falling into a pile of tires butt first was too much.

Eventually I did call out, and to his credit my husband did not giggle. He raced over to try to pry me out of my rubber prison. My neighbor also had to be involved, and he also refrained from the giggling. I finally popped out like the cork of a mid-range wine.

And I giggled. Go ahead. You know you want to giggle too.

Pity Party

Time to throw a little Pity Party for myself, and I decided to invite all of you. Like all things, this party started innocently enough...

I've been walking with some of my co-workers for a couple of weeks now. It's been fun. Yesterday as we were heading out, one of my coworkers mentioned that she was known as "The Pusher" in some circles because people often fall down in her presence. We all laughed and I think I may have said "I ain't scared of you!" which it turns out was a challenge to the universe.

On the way back I was walking right behind "The Pusher" when I got that feeling - the one when you realize you're gonna fall. I've had that feeling before and I've thought, maybe if I run a bit I'll catch up to myself... so I've sprinted, flailed my arms about as I yelled out something like "whooooooaaaaaaa" and then I crashed into whatever was in front of me. In the past I've run straight into a wall, and a garden planter (that was the time a ghost pushed me, but more on that another time) but yesterday I had lots of room to run.

I got this.

You know what? I didn't have it. At the time that me and the pavement met unexpectedly all my co-workers were all turned to see it all go down, so no saving face there. Turned out there was no saving face in reality either. I don't know what my limbs were doing at the time of the incident, but breaking my fall didn't seem to be on their agenda. So my forehead spoke up instead.

I got this.

Yep, you got this all right little buddy, and a nice big gash to show for it.

It was very dramatic and a real gusher too. By the time we made it back to the office I looked a sight. All the nurses in the office were so excited. It looks even better today! Black eye and a nice super-glued cut above the eyebrow.

I headed into work with great braveness and when I sat down at my PC I saw that it died in the night. Diagnosis - bad hard drive. I took the Universe's hint and headed home.

Curmudgeon

You know that person in your office who seems to always be cranky and crabby about their job? The Office Curmudgeon.

I realized about a month or so ago that I had become that person. I used to be a happy and positive person - okay to a point - I'm not that person either. I'm not sure exactly when the curmudgeoning happened, probably a slow progression. I'm not sure when everyone else might have noticed it - I hope I've been covering it well.

I used to really love this job, I have great people I work with, and it was focused on all the things I like. Slowly my job changed over the course of five years, and I suddenly realized that the part of my job I love the most, is the part of my job I get to do least often.

Not surprisingly perhaps, the part I love the most is being creative and writing. Sadly "all this" ::points to the blog:: is not enough to pay the bills, and I like having a real job. I get a lot of satisfaction out of a job well done (and a paycheck sure doesn't hurt either).

The last few years have been a scary time in the world, and I've been afraid to change to something new for fear of... what? Everything and anything. I'm realizing now that a life lived in fear crowds out the opportunity of a life lived in joyfulness.

After a particularly trying day I asked for a job I can love. I looked online that night on the company website and there was the very job I always dreamed of. Crazy right? So with no fear in my heart, I applied. Then nothing. Then yesterday an interview, and then an email letting me know I am on to the next round and a request to submit samples of my writing.

I am still focusing on the idea of having a job I love and that might mean a new job, or it might mean I find a way to love the one I already have again. I am open to the possibilities. Wish me luck.