Etc Time

Life is a roller coaster ride isn’t it? 

We go from high to low in the blink of a minute.  My high is the house is coming along great in its transformation from hoarder home to happy home.  We did the bedroom this past week and that went so much easier than I feared it would.  For any who haven’t been with me long term, my husband died of cancer over 10 years ago now and I still hadn’t dealt with his person items, clothes, personal items and so on.  They have been haunting me but I couldn’t do what’s been needed to be done for a long time now.  But with the help of my organizer, we did the bedroom.  And it was in bad shape overall let me tell you.  I couldn’t even see the floor, it was so covered in clothes and boxes and stuff.  I can’t remember the last time I made the bed.  It was only 1 layer, not a drastic case like you might watch on Hoarders, but for someone who suffers from frequent falls like I do these days, getting up in the middle of the night in the dark, to use the washroom, was quite an exercise.

But I ended up going through Ron’s things very quickly with only a few very emotional moments but also with some amusing ones.  Because I had the dresser and Ron had the chest of drawers, I never checked the dresser until the other day.  He had 3 drawers full of socks – THREE.  One full of white socks, one full of dark socks and one full of work socks.  I donated most of his clothes and a lot of personal items.  The only things I have of him now are his leather jacket, his ID bracelet and 2 jars FULL of pennies.  We don’t have pennies in Canada anymore.

My floor is now completely clutter free.  I’ve been making the bed the moment I’m out of it – except this morning since I forgot to set the alarm clock and woke up late.  Because the comforter is black and I have two cats who love to sleep on it when I let them in there, I found myself using a clothes brush on it until I wash it.  That might take a while as I have a huge backlog of clothes to wash and my dryer needs some work.

So now I have 3 rooms that don’t look like the others – until we get to the others and as the clutter gets cleaned up, it seems my shoulders are lifting higher and higher.  We’ve had bags and bags of junk lined up outside along the driveway.  We have a 3 bag garbage bag limit and there are a heck of a lot more garbage bags than 3 so yesterday I had 1-800-GOTJUNK  to come and take them away.  There was also a lot of yard trash they took and now the outside is looking real good.  I have lawn maintenance people and so the grass is properly maintained – I had major landscaping done also last fall – so it’s looking good outside and inside – main rooms anyway at the moment.

So. That was the high.  Now for the low.

My work world came crashing down on my head on Friday.  One of the reasons I’m still working and don’t plan on retiring next year – YIKES – next year when I turn 65 – good thing I don’t look it – is for the social aspect of the job.  I live alone with 2 cats – 2 happy cats now they have clean kitchen counters and a bedroom they can hang out in.  So I need the interaction with people I have at work.  It sure helps that I adore the people I work with and I love the job.  It’s in non-profit health care and there are many times a day when I’ve helped someone that I get that inner happiness.  Most of the people I work with are so much fun.  While I mostly work, as long as long as there is work to do, at times the social aspect of the job win out.  Of course there are those who are difficult to work with – NOT team players. You’re going to get that wherever you work and as long as I keep in mind that’s just who they are, I can get along quite cordially with them. 

But on Friday I learned all the people I interact with the best are leaving the department.  There have been a flurry of openings in other departments and they’ve all bid and got positions in another area.  Even my job share partner said she was leaving and knew I wouldn’t want to.  She told those around me that she had emailed me – since the very nature of the job is we don’t work together – but I didn’t get one.  These are the people to the right of me, people to the left of me, people who make it a joy to come in and work.  One has already left and the other ones will be leaving within the next several weeks.  While not letting it show on the outside and wishing them well, on the inside I’m devastated.  The guy I sit beside I’ve worked with for 8 or so years and he’s one of the most funny and fun people I’ve worked with.  And the coworkers who has left, she moved to a different city altogether as it’s a 45 minute drive from where she lives and a 5 minute drive from her new location, is one of the sweetest, kindest person I’ve worked with.

So now all that remain will be the difficult coworkers, the ones I have had run ins with, the non team players, the ones that make me grit my teeth and let out steam when I’m tired and the ones I don’t really have conversations with.  Yes, the others will be in the same building but it’s a large building with many employees and when they leave it’s never the same again.  I’ve experienced it many a time during the years.  A couple of years ago they moved me from where I was and it took a long time to get over it and the relationships are different now.  It takes me a while to let my guard down in many cases and get involved in conversations so even though we will be having others replace them, it’s like starting over again.

This is the kind of thing that triggers a depression and it’s like I’m on the edge of that cliff, whirling my arms around in order to not fall in.  I know I won’t, I’ll get past it and be OK but in the meantime I was up crying the other night at 2:30 in the morning as I don’t want them to leave me (that’s how it feels though I know it’s not true).

See, roller coaster?

*** update***

The roller coaster hadn’t quite hit bottom yet.  We had a meeting this afternoon whereupon we found out that all our caseloads had changed for better balance numbers.  The case manager I’ve worked with since I started in this department and I are no longer paired.  And of all the many,

many care coordinators I’ve worked with over the years, she is right up there very close to the top.

‘til later

 

PS – but then on the roller coast going up again side

, I found the jar of homemade blueberry jam I’ve been trying to find for months now.  Now since we went from almost winter, straight to summer, I just need to find the little girl fan I bought in the winter. 

I have room on the end table in the bedroom for it now.

 

I see London, I see France

Sometimes, while at work and not busy, my mind wanders and goes to some unusual places. You are about to see where is visited today. I was reading a book the other day – I think it was Anne Stuart’s latest and there was this scene that had me puzzling. The heroine, who was married, but didn’t sleep in the same room with her husband – and she was a newlywed to boot so you gotta know there are issues in that marriage – but that’s not what had me puzzling. What did was a scene where she was getting ready for bed and she put on underwear and then her pajamas and I couldn’t help thinking ‘why on earth would she do that???’

I know I’m giving away WAY TOO MUCH INFORMATION (heh heh heh) but I don’t wear underwear to bed when I’m sleeping in my own bed – alone. I totally don’t see the point. If you are sleeping in a bed with roomies in a hotel, of course it’s a different story so former roomies need not worry – but alone? Ah home? Pour quoi?

At this point it might be of interest to know what kind of younger sisters I have. At times they live to persecute and torment me and this is one of their evil ways. You see – I call them underwear or panties. But my nemeses in this discussion INSIST on calling them underpants. To me, when I hear the word underpants it brings back those haunting memories of seeing my grandmother’s underclothes wear hanging out on the line. Big, white, full figure *shudder*. Just that word makes me cringe and Lisa and Nancy know this and use the word underpants unmercifully. We’ve even had deep discussions about this word. They say it’s what you wear under pants so what else would you call them? I, of course, come back with what if you are wearing a dress or a skirt – what about then eh?

But wait – now I’m getting riled up again and slightly off topic.

If one wears pajamas, which by their very nature have bottom parts, what is the point in wearing underwear beneath them? The only reason I can come up with is you expect to have a fire in the middle of the night and don’t want to be caught by a handsome firefighter without the foundation of undergarments. But in that case, reasoning follows that you would also wear a bra to bed and that would be very uncomfortable. I like to grant the puppies freedom at night.

And same goes for a nightgown. Unless it’s a very, very short one, your assets would be covered.

The nightgowns I wear – unless I’m wearing jammies, go below my knees so no matter how much twisting and turning I do, it never ends up around my waist. So again – why wear underwear to bed – unless of course they are boxers or something and they ‘are’ part of one’s sleeping ensemble. Think about it – what if you are one who wears thongs – and is a restless sleeper. Wouldn’t you run the risk of giving yourself wedgies all night?

It’s a different scenario of course if you aren’t sleeping alone – or with roomies and the purpose is to entice a willing victim. But then again, in that case chances are they would be off soon anyway so you wouldn’t have to deal with the wedgie problem.

I’m curious now of course. Are more women more comfortable wearing underwear under pajamas? Are they hoping for a midnight call by sexy cop?

Because I thought some might want to remain anonymous when answering such a personal question, and because doing polls is fun and easy now, I’ve added one.

Now you know what thoughts occupied my mind today.

And more important - why the hell does my font keep changing as if it had a mind of it's own?

Etc. time

Am I the only one who gets excited over the oddest of things???? This is going to sound very bizarre but in the world of toilet paper there was one brand I refused to buy. And that one was Charmin. I hate – absolutely loathe their commercials. I mean they have baby bears taking a poop for goodness sake!! How can anyone buy toilet paper with that kind of commercial running through their mind.

But the other day my cheapness won over my boycott of products with terrible commercials when the Charmin was on for a price I just couldn’t resist. And you know what?? It’s a really good toilet paper. And I mean really good! Soft and strong and well – without going into any details – I need a lot less. In that old Seinfeld episode – one square to spare would have been more than enough.

So – there you have it. I’m excited over toilet paper.

Etc. time - Stuff

You may hear more grumblings from me in the next month or so. You see – the kitchen renovations are just about to begin. This coming Monday is The Day I Go Kitchenless – also know as The Day I Start Begging Friends to Invite Me To Dinner.
But in order to prepare for TDIGK, I’ve had to *shudder* clean the kitchen. It’s been during this time I’ve realized I need professional help. You see – I am a pack rat – a clutter collector of the highest order. Ron kept much of this disorder of mine in check – he’d get on my case to throw a lot of Stuff out. As well as helping keep me on the straight and narrow as far as clutter collecting, he probably 75% of the housework. I’ve managed to keep up not too bad on the housework – mainly by Stuffing Stuff in closets and cupboards.
Hell hit my house when I had to face what I’ve done the past year and a half. And I'm in almost full-out panic mode!
So far it’s taken over eight garbage bags to empty the kitchen – as well as 4 boxes full of Stuff. And I still have a ways to go!
I managed to empty the cupboards and a friend of Lisa’s came to take them away. I put a lot of the Stuff from the cupboards on the kitchen table and chairs. The boys came and took the kitchen table and chairs the next morning – early the next morning. The three of us just put all the Stuff someplace else. So as of right now I have the stove, fridge, one counter and the sink. Oh and the dishwasher which is full of clean dishes – but no cupboards to put them it. Now it seems I’ve lost the Stuff. And some of it is rather important Stuff. For example – it took me 20 minutes to locate my purse this morning. I seem to have lost my thyroid medicine. There was a movie I was going to return to Rogers for credit for a coworker (long story) but I still had to return the money to coworker even though the movie has gone missing – the one I was going to return.
And I still have Stuff in the corner cabinet – lots of Stuff to empty and figure out what to do with the corner cabinet as I have no plans for it in the new kitchen.
I look around the house these days and almost freak. The kitchen is in shambles – and worse is to come. The living room is in shambles – many of the boxes from the kitchen are in there as well as the Stuff I had on the previous book cases and television stand that I haven’t put back up because I still have 3 more shelving units to put together which won’t fit in the living room because I didn’t measure.
The two back bedrooms are a mess because I just Stuff Stuff in them but now I’m going to have to clean them up because the appliances will be in one bedroom until the kitchen is done and the boxes of dishes and food I’m keeping but can’t use for a month will be in the other one. The bedroom I’m sleeping in is a mess because I have Stuff in there too that should go in the living room that doesn’t have all the shelves in it because I didn’t think to measure. One of the bedrooms has the boxed shelves in it that are supposed to go in the living room that aren’t there because I didn’t measure and I need the space for the appliances because I will have no kitchen for a month or more.
My basement is a mess because I moved the old bookcases downstairs and have them half filled with spill over books but only one because I still have to move the other one to where I want it to go but I have boxes of books in the way and too many end tables. The old television unit is also down there, but not where it will go because I have too much furniture because like Stuff, I don't get rid of it and the television stand will have to be moved by the boys because it's large and heavy but there is no point in moving it until I move the other Stuff I have.
*deep breath*
And – I don’t want to go home these days because of Stuff.
I have been taking pics though and once I have the kitchen done and the bookcase/shelving unit done – I will post before – during – and after. At the moment though I’m too embarrassed to post my pics of Stuff

My first "one of those" books

My first “naughty” book wasn’t even a romance book. When I was a young thing about 11 or 12 or so, our family was renting a cottage for a few weeks. The previous renters or owners left behind a book called “Pretty Maids All In A Row”. Being a voracious reader, and thinking “what a nice title” I picked it up and began to read. I learned more about sex from that book than I did from my best friend let me tell you. It was NOT a nice little book about farm girls who milked cows. The basic outline of the story was about a male teacher who had “sexual relations” with his young and attractive female students. Graphic sexual relations. Relations involving fists and I don’t mean in a fighting kind of way. He would grade their performance and then murder them.
Well, somehow my two younger sisters got hold of that book. I don’t know if I showed them or they just stole it because it was something their older bratty sister couldn’t put down.
About a week after we got home, my mother called me into their bedroom and wanted me to observe. Now my mother was a real “lady”. She had a wicked sense of humour about some things but reading material and sex weren't them. She wouldn’t let us read comic books for example, saying it would ruin our minds.
What happened next is forever planted on my brain and cause for my sisters and me to laugh till our stomachs hurt (in a loving way) whenever we talk about it.
The three of us were lined up and she had a book in her hands. Yes, that book. One of my sisters, for whatever reason still remains a mystery, decided to pack “that book” and bring it home with her. My mother of course found it.

“You WILL NOT”
rip
“EVER!!!!!!!!!!”
rip
“READ”
rip
“THIS KIND”
rip
“OF BOOK”
rip
“AGAIN!!!!!!!”
rip
“DO”
rip
“YOU”
rip
“UNDERSTAND”
rip
“ME!!!!????!!!!!”
rip, rip, rip rip RIP.

Two main thoughts went through my mind but never voiced while she was doing this.
1) I was so glad it wasn’t me that got busted and
2) "But Mom, the book wasn’t ours and I hope the owner(s) never noticed it missing.”