I don't have the energy for this. I'm sort of forcing it, so when it sucks, you'll know why.
But here's what's happening, in all its randomness.
I turned 42. And lived to tell about it. No end of the world or anything, which I really wasn't expecting anyway. It was actually a pretty stinkin' good birthday. People who were supposed to remember the day actually did...a few that I didn't expect to surprised me with greetings and salutations, and it was just NICE. And throughout the course of the celebratory weekend, these notable things occurred:
My dad prepared a lovely dinner for the family on Thursday night.
Family from out of town visited unexpectedly, "forcing" us to stay out 'til the wee hours of the morning visiting with them.
We had a very pleasant, although unplanned, Friday evening with good friends.
We spent the day Saturday with family again, enjoying good food and drinks and fun.
We painted the town red...or at least muted shades of mauve and rose...on Saturday night, again with great friends and good music.
We spent Sunday with yet more family.
The overall theme was friends and family--that's what it's all about, after all.
I get tired again just reading about all of the activity. Right now, hibernating sounds pretty good.
It was also during the weekend that Andrew wrecked a motorized vehicle for the first time when he drove a mini-dirt bike through a rail fence, breaking two of the rails and narrowly escaping a nasty run-in with the barbed wire fence strung on the other side. Whew, I'm glad I didn't see it! What I am grateful for, in addition to the fact that he wasn't injured (other than a scrape on his chin) was that he walked away with a healthy fear of speed and a lesson in listening carefully. And while I wondered THEN where my little boy went, I wondered even more when he came home from school today talking about wanting a leather jacket, one of those leather clips for his pocketknife, and leather pants, complete with "one of those chains you can hook to your pants." Apparently, I'm raising a motorcycle hood. Fonzi would be proud.
I have a long list of work grumbles that I won't bore the public with. Middle school drama isn't strictly for the kids, apparently. But aside from that, I am feeling a great deal of stress professionally. Okay, maybe I will bore you a bit...without being specific, let me just express the fact that IN GENERAL, it's difficult to go through life always being told what you're doing wrong or what you're not doing and should be. We could probably all benefit from that lesson for our own workplaces and homes. I just don't think that constantly pointing out where failures occurred is productive, healthy, or even ethical. Everyone needs positive, consistent, and fair feedback. Without specifics, and without even acknowledging that I'm talking about myself here, I would like to say that you just can't keep piling things on to someone's "plate" without expecting that plate to overflow. It's a little discouraging for the focus to always be on the carrot that fell in the floor, instead of on all of the other things that teachers do well. We, and the many great things we do during the course of a day...or week...or year...are taken for granted, from the bottom rungs of the hierarchy to the top. While I don't look for sympathy for doing a job that I love, (and doing a damn good job of it, I might add), I do look for...I don't know. Understanding? I also don't look for someone or something to trip me while I'm carrying the plate, just to see if I can hold on. Uggh, rant over.
On a positive note, I love getting coupons from restaurants. Good job, Byers Street Bistro and Sauced, for sending me $10.00 off birthday presents. You're damn skippy I'll use them, and spend all the more money for saving a little. And FYI, marketing people who care about this stuff, the actual postcard in the mail is SO much more effective for this girl than an email sitting in my inbox. I might use the others too, but I'm more likely to use the one that's cluttering up my kitchen counter! And when you say "any purchase," you do mean beer, right? 'Cause that's what I'm buying!
Another positive note to end on? Wednesday dinners are also "whatevers." It's my Grump Day Hump Day Karate Night Strategy for Survival...so bring on the leftover chili, Mr. Microwave.