The Power of Positive...Peeing and Other Small Pleasures

I’ve decided to continue my positivity and not spend any time today complaining about it being a Monday and a stormy one at that.

We did, for a brief moment, lose power at work but, alas, it came back on. This is not to say that I sit at work hoping the power will go out like I did at my last job but there’s a certain level of excitement that such things add to the work day. It’s the power of the unexpected, a little ‘present’ that life throws at you.

Since our power didn’t actually go out, I missed out on today’s present. Still, it made me realize that life is full of little tiny gifts that we don’t stop and properly appreciate. Thus, in honour of my attempt to stay positive and not focus on negative things, I’ve decided that today’s blog will be a blog lauding the things that make life just a little bit better.

My first one is a little, uh, odd. Also, by some standards it’s not very ‘proper.’ It is, however, very necessary to life. I’m talking about having a very, very full bladder and being able to alleviate the problem in a timely fashion.

I told you it sounds odd. It’s also not very ladylike to discuss urination. However, if you’ve ever really, really, REALLY needed to go but you’re not close to a toilet, you might understand how finding a toilet at the very last second when you feel like your bladder is literally going to explode can feel like a gift.

Trust me on this. It’s happened to me. I’ve witnessed it happening to others. Case in point, my friend Saz and I once took a trip to Los Angeles. We decided to go explore Mulholland drive up in the hills. We got lost. About ten minutes into the drive, Saz realized she really had needed to go. Long story short, we were lost. There are no restaurants, gas stations or any places to stop and go to the loo. When it was to the point where Saz was literally in pain, we finally found a Burger King. To the day, I believe Saz holds that Burger King with fondness in her heart. For my part, I felt awful that I’d made her wait that long.

I hope Saz doesn’t mind me sharing her story in my blog. I’ve had several Mulholland Drive moments myself since then and each time, I find myself whispering “sorry, Saz,” to myself because of the torture she suffered. However, whenever you finally, FINALLY get to relieve your poor, aching bladder, it’s seriously one of the best sensations in the world. If you don’t believe me, try it sometime. It really puts your priorities in order. Nothing else matters once that seal is broken and you absolutely, positively HAVE to relieve your bladder. All you can think about is finding a toilet.

This is an odd and slightly crude thing to blog about, I know. However, I think it does illustrate my point that sometimes it’s the small things that get the most appreciation when they happen.

It’s the same with sneezing, honestly. If you need to sneeze but it won’t come out, it’s very, very irritating. You can stare at a light and try to trigger the sneeze but if it won’t come, it suddenly becomes one of the Most. Irritating. Feelings. Ever.

And then….it happens. The sneeze comes and a tiny, insignificant reaction becomes the best feeling in the world. No longer do you have that twitchy feeling in the space between your nose and eyeball. The sneeze is done, it’s out and you can go back to your life without even remembering it happened.

But it did. It’s another small thing to appreciate.

Want another one? How about spending the day surrounded by noise and chaos. In my case, it’s Thanksgiving at my parents. The day passes in a whirl of trying to get everything ready before people start arriving. When they come, my parents decent sized farmhouse becomes one of the smallest places in the world. The kids are running around, the dogs are whimpering because four young children seem to have multiplied and there is nothing but noise, trying to get the dinner on the table while trying not to step on cowering dogs and trying not to spill the gravy jug on your nieces head because she’s obliviously chattering away to you without realizing you’re doing something…else.

And then, the food is eaten, the dishes done, the people have finally left, the TV off and….

…there is quiet. Blessed quiet that can only be appreciated after hours of loud laughter, squealing, running and barking.

The quiet makes the chaos good. I like seeing my family all together but halfway through trying to figure out where everyone will sit, watching my nephew chow down on his Oscar Meyer wieners instead of the turkey that’s been cooking all day, the urge for quiet comes over me and when it finally arrives well….that’s another gift. I wouldn’t swap the chaos and confusion for the world because that in itself is a gift but that quiet…well, that’s far more unexpected and comes when it’s most needed.

Then there’s the food itself. If you’re on a diet and you’re trying to be good, treats become much more meaningful. Having one piece of chocolate after four weeks of not eating any is far more rewarding than eating five pieces every day. Splurging and eating a big slice of cheese pizza is a lovely thing to do if you haven’t had anything but Lean Cuisine pizza for a month or two.

I could go on and on. I suppose really what it comes down to is that old cliché (and Cinderella song): You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone. Whether it’s the need to relieve your bladder, the ability to sneeze, the quiet and tranquility of a calm day or whatever food item you’ve forbidden yourself, when you do finally get it back, it’s that much more special.

Thus, I think once in a while, we should acknowledge the everyday things in life and stop to appreciate how much they bring to your life without you realizing it. I’m not talking about big things like food, clothing, shelter…I’m talking about things like toilet paper, deodorant and underwear. Certainly, we could get by without them but they make our life much more pleasant with their very existence.

Sometimes, you just have to stop and think about the things in life that we take for granted because they’re part of our everyday life. We don’t think of them as gifts because they just seem so tiny. Yet, try not being able to find a toilet on a long and winding drive and you’ve had two large cokes. You’ll see what I mean.

Although I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. It does, however, make you appreciate something you don’t usually consider much.

That’s all I’m saying.

Happy Tuesday!

Thankfulness for Near Perfect Days...

I think, as a human race, we like to complain a lot. It's pretty much second nature for most of us. I'm not excluding myself or putting myself above anyone by saying this. Just reading back over my blog posts for the past couple of months and I'd be a resounding hypocrite if I said I wasn't one of the complainers.

It's easy to complain. We go on Facebook and we complain in our status about work, about the weather, about Obama, about daycare, about food...pretty much about anything that annoys us.

There's nothing wrong with this. As it is for me, for most, it's a coping technique. If we say out loud what's bothering us, what's bugging us, we suddenly feel much better. We get it out of our system. If we tell the world of Facebook that other drivers are terrible and that we're sick of people who don't clean up after their dogs...it's out there. Our complaint is heard and even though it doesn't correct the situation, we feel better.

Yet, the thing is, I think that we get so hung up on complaining about what's wrong, we forget to remember what's right. I'm the first to blog and whine about a bad day at work. Yet, for all the bad days, there are good days too.

Today was one of them. It was about as perfect as a day can get in its own special way. Thus, instead of complaining about everything, I want to acknowledge that for all the bad Mondays in life, there are also wonderful Sundays.

For me, my day began early. The pups and I went to bed at a decent time last night so we could get up at 7:30 a.m. this morning. We awoke with the alarm and I had the luxury of having a Sookie snuggled on one side and a Rory on the other. When we did get up, it was at the same time that the sun was just beginning to shine. I let the pups out, I got dressed. Our day began. My parents were coming down and I because I'm a fanatical cook, I wanted to make sure everything was on schedule and ready. Thus, I'd made two batches of soup yesterday (clam chowder for mum, black bean for mum). I'd also made the custard for creme brulee.

All I had to do today was make the dough for the bread, let it rise, bake it and do some last minute prep for lunch. I managed to get all this done, have a cup of coffee while still enjoying a somewhat early morning walk with the pups. We watched the sun rise into the sky while enjoying the peace of a quiet Sunday morning. My parent arrived in good time. We had a nice lunch and I got to spend the day with my parents while also enjoying a trip to Jungle Jims.

The weather was about as perfect as you can get. It was balmy with a warm wind. As a result, we got to sit out in my newly redecorated Tuscan family room and enjoy the warmth of spring. My dad helped me move the heavy stove that was the only thing standing between me and redoing the floor in my Tuscan room. We had a nice dinner and, after I bid my parents farewell, I took the pups for another walk. The walk was perfect. For a spring night, it doesn't get any better.

We enjoyed the last moments of daylight. The weather was warm and windy. The tulips have started blooming in response to this unexpected beautiful spring day and their bright red colours were a lovely contrast the sunny yellow daffodils that are still in full bloom.

In short, days don't really get much better than this. It was the type of day where I didn't once stop and be sad that I'm still single. I got to spend time with my parents and my dogs and enjoy the lovely warmth of spring. Thus, as I was walking with the pups tonight, I realized that I was 100% content. I couldn't complain about anything. And I realized that this doesn't happen very often in life. There's always a Monday or a bad day at work to stand in the way.

I'm sure if I thought about it, I could find something to complain about today but the thing is, I don't want to find something to complain about. That's a rare thing. Thus, for once, I wanted to acknowledge the rare thing instead of finding something, anything to complain about. It's too nice of a feeling not to share.

I hope that, for all my readers, that you have days like this too. Because days like this make all the other days just a little bit better, no matter how bad they are. Nothing major happened. I had no major revelations. It was just a lovely, relaxing, fulfilling day.

As I always say, it's the small things in life that make it worthwhile and in my case, today was full of a million small things. For once, I don't mind that the weekend is over and that means another Monday tomorrow. I don't say it often and...maybe I should. Somedays it's just nice to anti-complain!

Happy Monday!

What is Normal, Anyway?

Today, my coworker said to me, “but you seemed so normal when you first started working here.”

This is not the first time I have heard this phrase. Nor, I’m afraid, will it be the last. This is not to say that I consider myself ‘not normal’ but, it seems, by the standards of others, I am a little…odd. I don’t consider myself odd. It’s hard to do that when the things you do every day seem normal to you.

I mean, look at the film, “Elf.” Buddy the Elf thinks it’s perfectly normal to put sugar on spaghetti, talk to raccoons and wear an elf costume. In his world, this is all normal behavior. It’s only when he goes out into the wider world that he realizes this is not what everyone else does and so he’s considered to be…odd.

Not that I’m comparing myself to Buddy the Elf. It’s just to illustrate the point that what might seem odd to others can seem perfectly normal to you. Normal is a very relative concept. In my case, what seems normal to me is watching the Top Chef: All Stars finale with a strong sense of anticipation. My very favourite cheftestant, Richard Blais, was in the final two. I have liked Richard since he was on Top Chef in Season 5. I think he’s an amazing chef who has an amazing sense of creativity. I’d never cook the way he does but I think some of his ideas are absolutely brilliant.

Anyway, (sorry if you haven’t seen it yet), long story short, Richard won. Naturally, I was very excited. I was so excited that I shouted “YAY! RICHARD WON” very loud at the TV. This proceeded to wake Sookie and Rory quite abruptly. After they got over their initial befuddled alarm as to why their mummy was shouting, they started to respond to my “YAY”’s with their own brand of excitement. It turned into a small, celebratory dance party with no music. This is quite normal for us. The pups and I often have dance parties. Sookie isn’t much of a dancer unless I pick her up and twirl her around the room. Rory, on the other hand, likes to jump up and down with me and keep up with my very uncoordinated but very enthusiastic dance moves. Sookie generally watches the two of us with a slight air of disdain. Although it might be confusion. Sometimes it's hard to tell.

Apparently, doggie dance parties aren’t that normal. I found this out today when my coworker asked if my “Top Chef” favourite won. I told her how excited I was for him and then told her about the dance party. This is how she came to say that somewhat familiar phrase of “but you seemed so normal when you started working here.” Keep in mind that this comes on top of my rather idiotically telling her a few days ago that one of the dogs and my favourite new games is “Throw the Rock into the Sewer Drain to Hear it Splash.” Apparently this is not normal either. How would I know? It’s what Rory, Sookie and I do on our lunch break now. It’s normal to us.

I probably don’t help my own case. I’m the twit who wonders aloud if you can eat Canadian geese and if they’d taste more like duck or goose when we pass by a flock on the way to an office lunch. It’s been ongoing since I started. It usually happens at all of my jobs. I start out being the proper British girl (or woman, I suppose I am now). Then, slowly, as my coworkers get to know me and I start to relax around them, I forget to act like a proper British woman and…I act like me.

It’s not that I’m not proper. Sometimes, I’m a little too proper. I can’t get used to my coworker putting chewing gum on the back of his hand when we go out to lunch nor can I get used to discussing bodily functions with my coworkers. However, I have also been known to be caught singing rather loudly in my office without realizing I’m actually doing it. This is not good especially when I’ve been singing the same line from one song over and over because it’s stuck in my head. I also like to bop my bobblehead of Ben Linus from Lost on the head so it bobbles and then cascade into a peal of giggles because he looks so funny.

You get the idea. As I said, normal is relative. I don’t think of my behavior as particularly odd until I get either an “ohhhkaaaay” from my coworkers or, worse, “The Look,” which, all at once, lets me know that I’ve made the mistake of letting people know too much of what goes on in my head and I should probably have kept my mouth closed.

Still, I suppose with this job, I should be pleased. It’s taken me six months before my coworker considers me weird. I think that may actually be a bit of a record. I’d like to think this is because I have an office and it’s a lot easier to ‘hide’ in an office. When you sit in a cubicle, it’s much harder to have chair boogies, sing-a-longs with myself and bobblehead moments without someone seeing you and giving you The Look or, worse, saying “What are you doing?” and being forced to realize that a) not only have you been spotted in a quite private moment but b) the tone of voice is conveying that it’s a weird thing to be doing and they’re a little concerned.

The nice thing about this job is that everyone’s a little weird so I don’t get judged. In my last job, office politics were horrible. It was the type of environment where if someone screwed up or did something ‘different,’ it would inspire gathered whisperings in offices, odd looks thrown and conversations with coworkers where they used that overly friendly tone associated with TV characters who are trying to calm down a person holding a gun.

Certainly, this sounds dramatic but, well, that’s how it was or, at least, how it felt. I might have imagined the tone of voice and maybe the looks but the whispered gatherings were real. The funny part is that there were some very loud whisperers and it was pretty obvious when they were gossiping and even what they were saying. That’s why it’s nice to work in my current office. If coworkers think I’m doing something weird or I say something weird, it’s greeted with a, “you’re very strange,” or “WHY on EARTH would you think about eating a Canadian goose?” I like that. It’s very refreshing to have upfront honesty like that even if it does make me question whether or not I’m normal.

Besides, as I said earlier, what is normal, anyway? Exactly. There’s no such thing. It’s all relative. I like my ‘abnormal’ world. It seems perfectly normal to me and that’s what counts, right?

Happy Friday!

Furry Frustrations

It’s amazing how much you can love your dogs a ridiculous amount and yet still feel the urge to strangle them.

I imagine that parents often feel the same way towards their children. I am aware that my furry little beasts aren’t quite on the level of responsibility that having a child might be but it’s the closest I’ve ever come.

Being a pet parents is still new to me. Sure, I’ve had my dogs over a year now but as with any living creature, each day is a whole new learning experience.

Take, for example, the simple but amazingly complicated puzzle that is food. My dogs don’t to eat dog food at home. I’ve tried different brands but most of the time, they eat begrudgingly and clearly don’t like what they’re being offered. What’s annoying is that I gave one of the bags of food my girls wouldn’t touch to my parents because their dogs DO eat the brand.

Imagine my frustration when my girls went straight to the food bowl at my parents’ house and started chowing down on the very food they turned their nose up at home.

In my attempts to get them to eat on a regular schedule and eat healthy but tasty food, I’ve resorted to buying canned food. I’m not a fan of canned food. It makes their, uh, poop smell bad and, also, it’s just not that appealing. However, there are some good, holistic brands out there. We’ve tried most of them. Rory, for example, loves chicken, blueberries, sweet potato dog treats and peas. So, I found the perfect can of food- it was chicken with blueberries, sweet potato and peas.

Would she eat it? No. Of course not. Why would she? It was DOG food. My dogs don’t like dog food unless it’s not me providing it to them.

Sookie is a little less fussy and deigned to politely put some in her mouth but she glared at me the whole time she was chewing and when she finally swallowed, her stare said, “seriously? You really expect me to eat more of that?”

I imagine this was not altogether different from the way my mother would feel when she’d put a plate of dinner in front of me and I’d complain, pick at it but not eat very much because I ‘didn’t like it.’ Then, I’d go to my granny’s, have a very similar plate of food put in front of me and I’d devour the whole thing AND ask for more.

Sorry, mum. I know I can only relate on a canine level but…I’m sorry for being so picky as a child.

I have discovered that if I leave the food down long enough, they will eat it out of hunger but I do wish they had a little more enthusiasm. We did find one food that they both loved. It was another holistic brand that was for ‘high energy’ dogs. They loved it and licked the plate clean afterwards. So, excited, I went to Petsmart to buy more.

Guess what? The bloody manufacturer had discontinued that particular line of foods. Needless to say, when the pet store employee told me that, he tried to recommend other, similar brands. My girls didn’t like any of them. We’re still trying new flavours and brands. The nice thing about dog food is there are a lot of varieties to try. I just avoid ones with bad things like corn, corn products and animal by-products because, well, that just sounds bad.

In addition to our food battles, my dogs also cannot be trusted to be left alone. Last night, for example, they were happily playing outside, chasing each other and staring into the fabled sewer grate. So, silly me, I thought it might be ok to take a shower.

I’m take fairly fast showers. I didn’t think it would be a problem for the 12 minutes it takes me to disrobe, shower and get dressed again.

So, imagine my exasperation and alarm when I’m just rinsing my hair and I hear Sookie’s ‘panic’ bark.

I’ve learned to recognize this ‘panic’ bark. I’ve experienced it more than several times when Rory has pulled her Houdini act and found a way out of the back yard and is running around near the street while Sookie barks with alarm. I’ve also experienced it when Rory finds the most miniscule hole at my parents’ house and runs off to explore the great wide beyond of the soybean field next door while Sookie barks with alarm.

Thus, I can distinguish the difference between Sookie’s, “SQUIRREL! MUST EAT SQUIRREL” bark, her “you’re annoying the crap out of me, Rory,” bark, her “I’m cute so come and get me bark,” and her “PANIC! RORY’S DOING SOMETHING BAD! PANIC! PANIC!” bark.

Rory has her own series of barks too, primarily distinguished by her “I’m bored, play with me,” bark, the “why are you petting her and not me,” yip and the, “Sookie, dude, I’m outside, why aren’t you,” bark.

However, it’s Sookie’s Panic bark I’ve come to dread. When I heard it last night in the shower, my heart sunk. I immediately washed all the soap off, turned off the water, grabbed a towel and rushed to the window to see what was happening. Sookie was waiting for me with an expression I recognized on her face: Rory was Up to No Good.

Rory is often Up to No Good. It usually involves paddling in my parent’s fish pond, discovering holes in fences, digging in inappropriate places, getting covered with mud by rolling in it or doing other things she shouldn’t be doing. Sookie can be a little naughty but Rory is usually the one who is Up to No Good.

Last night was no exception. Sookie’s worried expression and Panic bark were duly merited: Rory was running around in the Dog Whisperer’s yard.

I grabbed the nearest clothes which didn’t necessarily match, threw them on, grabbed a coat and put on my wellington boots. Needless to say, I probably looked a little like a bag lady or an eccentric English woman who wanders around saying “Would you like a cup of tea dearie?” while wearing a pot of daisies on her head.

I didn’t have a pot of daisies on my head, in case you were wondering.

When I went outside, Rory wagged her tail enthusiastically. Sookie Panic barked again. In my bag-lady get up with soaking wet hair, I realized that to retrieve Rory, I would have to go all the way through the house and out the front door because I had chains and padlocks on the gates due to Rory’s last Up to No Good escape attempt.

Dog Whisperer and his family were not home. I thusly claimed Rory by cracking open his gate, catching her before she could slide by and bringing her inside. Naturally, she got told off. She knew she’d been Up to No Good because for the rest of the evening, she looked at me with flattened ears and big, sorrowful eyes.

It’s hard to stay angry at such a pathetic creature but I was quite furious. I had to spend a good 20 minutes finding creative but foolproof ways to make the fence secure because she’d found a vulnerability where the chain link didn’t quite meet the ground and she’d burrowed under it. I’ve since ordered tent stakes to make sure the fence can’t be lifted up. Hopefully, when they’re installed, I’ll feel a little more relaxed. For now, I’m going to be paranoid every time I let the dogs outside and I can’t see them immediately from the window. They will not be allowed unsupervised outside for long periods of time and I will not leave them out when I take a shower.

The sad part is that since they’re dogs, not children, they won’t completely understand their punishment. I think Rory is smart enough to have deduced that Playing in Dog Whisperer’s Yard=Mummy is very angry but I don’t know if it’s enough to stop future escape attempts. I do know that as soon as I see Rory is not in the yard, my Code Red Alert button goes off in my brain and I start to panic that something bad will happen. My anger with them is as much from fear as from frustration. It shows how much the silly little creatures mean to me, I suppose. It’s just not good for the stress level.

Being a parent is hard. Even when your ‘kids’ have fur and four legs. Kids or dogs, they can still make you so angry you want to throttle them.

Even when you’re hugging them to you in relief that they’re safe.

Happy Thursday!

It's the Small Things that Make a Day Remarkable

There are some days in life that don’t seem particularly remarkable on their own but there are moments that will make them remarkable in your mind for a long time to come.

For example, today was remarkable because I got to make someone very happy. It’s a lovely feeling.

Part of the reason I was not happy in my last job (besides bad bosses, optimistic bathrooms and office politics) was because I didn’t get to work with people. As a general rule, I quite like people. Granted, there are days like I had on Saturday where I just feel crotchety towards the whole human race because they seem to be working against me but, for the most part, I generally like people. They’re unpredictable. They don’t always do the right thing. Yet they also make life nice and interesting. Also, it feels really good to help someone. I like helping people.

In my job, I see all types of candidates. I see the ones who aren’t employed because they were laid off and the job market has just been bad. I see the ones who aren’t employed because they were ‘let go’ from their job. One thing I have learned is that when someone was ‘let go’ from a job, they were never “fired” and it was never their fault. It was always the fault of the manager or the HR department. While I think in some cases, this may be the case, usually if someone was ‘let go’, there was a reason. It takes a while to dig to the reason.

During an interview, I’ve learned that I have to be sneaky to whittle out the good candidates from the weirdos. Another thing I’ve learned is that everyone is a little bit of a weirdo. Most of the time it’s manageable and it doesn’t really show. These are usually candidates who are currently in a job but want more money or more of a challenge. The candidates who haven’t had a job in a while but have been on a ton of interviews to no fruition…well, they’re a little trickier. Usually, I try to do in-person interviews with these folks. That way you can see them while they’re talking to you and it helps you figure out what might be ‘wrong.’

Sometimes, as awful as it is to say, it’s apparent quite quickly. For example, there are candidates that show up who clearly don’t bathe much. Sitting in a small conference room with them and having the door closed actually makes it quickly apparent that it might be a little hard to work with them. We can’t really discriminate against them but there are times when we do have to suggest that if they get an interview with a client, they need to be clean and tidy.

We’ve had candidates with no teeth. Quite a few of them, actually. I try not to discriminate on something so minor as having no teeth but it’s a little…offputting. We still try to send these candidates on interviews but we can’t control our clients’ reactions and, sadly, if they have a problem with toothlessness, we can’t force them to hire a candidate. It sounds mean because, after all, maybe they have no teeth because they have no job and I really WANT to help them find a job so they can get teeth but we have little control over if candidates actually get hired.

I’d like to take this opportunity to point out that I am not a bad person and I try to respect every person and so if I have someone come in who’s missing, say, an arm or a leg, I wouldn’t discriminate against them AT ALL. It’s harder with teeth. I can’t explain why. It just..is.

Maybe it’s because people with no teeth have a less interesting ‘story’ than someone with a missing limb. A missing limb could have been bitten off by a shark or mangled in a lawnmower. Missing teeth if knocked out in a fascinating way generally get replaced. If they’re missing without replacement, they probably just fell out. That’s not such an interesting story, say, as my dad’s story- he lost several teeth as a youngster by playing on a slide. They were playing “bridge’ where one person straddles the slide and the other kids slide underneath. My dad was the bridge. He fell off and knocked his teeth out.

My dad has a story to go with his teeth. He also have false teeth. He likes to flip them down so he has this rather creepy skeletal grin and do a slow wave. It makes me laugh every time. Also, he lost his teeth in the English Channel once. That’s another story to go with his teeth. Still, most of the time if there are false teeth involved, you don’t know they’re false teeth. Thus, if a candidate comes in without any teeth, false or real, you can’t help but wonder why they don’t have any teeth but you can’t ask their story.

That was a rambling about teeth especially since it most likely was a thinly veiled attempt not to make myself sound evil for judging someone based on their teeth. Or lack thereof.

Anyway, moving on, sometimes candidates come in and they seem normal. Then you ask them something as simple as “what’s your dream job” and they spend ten minutes explaining how it would be rebuilding antique cars. Now, while I think that’s a perfectly respectable ‘dream job’, it’s not terribly helpful. What I prefer is someone who says, “my dream job would be to work on antique cars but since that’s not very realistic, I’d like a job that fits my skillset, provides me with a challenge in a company that doesn’t suck.”

When I don’t get that response but, instead, a ten-minute diatribe regarding the beauty and freedom of the antique car, it’s a little…disturbing.

In short, what I’m trying to say with my ramblings about teeth, antique cars and amputated limbs is that it’s important to interview candidates in detail because it does actually work out. Which leads me to the original topic of today’s blog: Helping people.

A few months ago, one of my first placements was a lady who’d been out of work for a while and feeling down about it. When I told her she had a job offer, she was so excited, she hugged me and promised to send people my way. That was a good day and it made me love my job.

The best part is that she did send someone my way. It was a friend of hers who’d been laid off and had been out of work for months. Then she found a very low-paying job that made her miserable. When I talked to her, there was a certain level of empathy on my part. Having had a job where I had to psych myself up to get out of bed and go into the office every day and how I had to make sure to control my urges to strangle people with a yoga strap, I knew what she was going through. Thus, I wanted to help her.

Today, I got to tell her we’d found a position for her and that she’d be starting in two weeks. When she came in almost immediately to fill out her paperwork, she was so happy, she was almost crying. She gave me one of the hugest hugs and “thank you’s” I’ve ever had.

That’s why I do my job. The paycheck is nice. I like my coworkers. My office is nifty. I like that I get commissions and incentives.

Yet, honestly, cheesy as it sounds, that’s the best part of my job. It makes me feel like I’ve done something nice, something that’s slightly remarkable because I’m helping someone make their life just a little better.

Sometimes, it’s the small things that make a day remarkable.

That and a full set of teeth, real or false.

Don’t judge me. Please.

Happy Wednesday!

Indecisive Days

I’ve started this blog quite a few times. Each time, I write several paragraphs and I hate what I write so I erase it and start over. So far, I’ve started blogs regarding the oddness of my activities and why people think I’m weird because I tell them I throw rocks into sewer drains to amuse my dogs. I’ve written some of a blog explaining that I’m not going to complain about Monday because it’s just another Monday and it’s not a manic one at that. I’ve started yet another blog talking about things that are a mystery to me only to realize it’s a thinly masked excuse for venting.

So, here I am…I’m having one of those days where I’m feeling listless and unsettled. Nothing is holding my attention for long. I can’t decide if I’m hungry or just wanting to eat because it’s something different to do. I’m not having any luck locating resumes for a job I’m trying to fill and for the life of me, I can’t understand why. It’s a great job for an entry level person. The salary is good and the experience will be invaluable. Yet I’ve sent at least 15 emails via Linked In and Monster.com to people who say they’re looking for this exact type of job and….nothing.

All in all, it’s just one of those days where I can’t settle down and do something. I start reading, I don’t feel like it. I put something on TV to watch and decide it’s not what I want to be watching. I start to blog and it’s not what I want to be blogging about. I don’t know what it is. Perhaps it really is Spring Fever. I’m trapped inside because it’s cold and murky outside but I’m mentally prepared for warmer weather, planting seeds, taking warm walks with the dogs and mowing the lawn. There’s not much to be done outside when the thermometer peaks at 38 degrees and even on short walks, my hand that holds the dogs’ leashes gets cold even when I’m wearing gloves.

Some days are just indecisive days. This is one of them. I know I can’t be the only one who has them. I’ve had them all of my life. I remember as a child, there would be rainy days where no matter what toy I got out to play with, it wasn’t what I wanted. Even my books were not appealing because I’d start reading and decide I wasn’t in the mood. Now, as an adult, indecisive days manifest the same way that they did when I was a child. They’re sneaky days. You don’t expect them when you get out of bed.

Some days, they can be identified immediately. You get dressed in the clothes you laid out the night before and can’t decide if you want to wear that particular outfit. If you don’t lay out your clothes ahead of time, they result in a complete wardrobe crisis in which case you don’t even have a starting point about which to be indecisive. Having suffered from “Staring into the Wardrobe Full of Clothes and Finding Nothing to Wear” syndrome far too often in my life, I now attempt to counter this by picking out the next days’ outfit before I go to bed. This, at least, aids in the fact that if I’m suffering from “Staring into the Wardrobe Full of Clothes and Finding Nothing to Wear” syndrome when I pick out the outfit, at least I’m doing so at a time where I have ample time to have the crisis because the only penalty is going to bed later than planned.

If the indecision occurs the morning of the when I’m trying to pick out an outfit, not only am I groggy and unfocused but I’m likelier to be a foul-tempered beast all day because this is no way to start a day. Also, if I stare at the wardrobe for too long, then I could potentially be late to work. If you do lay out an outfit and put it on in the morning, you may not be aware that it’s an indecisive day immediately. Instead, the realization may arrive when you’re trying to decide between a Kashi Cranberry Granola bar, a Quaker Oatmeal Raisin Granola Bar or a Blueberry Nutri Grain bar to take to work for breakfast. It may occur when you’re sitting in a meeting at work and your boss asks which job openings you want to work on and your mind instantly goes numb and you have absolutely no idea. It can occur when you go home for lunch and can’t decide if you want to eat leftovers or make a salad. You get the idea.

The worst part about indecisive days are that no matter which outfit, breakfast bar, job opening or lunch item you choose, it will always seem the wrong one because you’re not really in the mood for anything. So, the day passes, listlessness sets in and indecision prevails. Now you can see why I had trouble blogging about anything. Nothing seemed right. No matter how witty I tried to be, it felt like I was trying too hard. No matter how chipper I tried to sound, I could tell I wasn’t feeling particularly chipper. Everything just felt…off. Thus, I decided to blog about the type of indecisive day I was having. I’ve got this far and I’m making the decision to just go with it. It’s not the most exciting blog I’ve ever written but I’m deciding to go with it because, at least, I’ve made a decision about something. It just doesn’t really feel like the right one.

But on days like this, there really is no right one. Even the right one would feel like the wrong one. I think I’ll blame Monday. That, at least, feels like the right decision.

Tomorrow, I’ll be more decisive.

I’m determined. That’s another decision and it’s definitely the right one.

Maybe things are looking up!

Happy Tuesday!

Cold and Productive Weekends

This has been a very chilly weekend. I don't think it's been above 40 degrees all weekend. It snowed last night but it didn't stick around. It was just a little surprising to turn on the porch light and see it flurrying down outside. Still, even with the chill outside, the weather has been beautiful. Today has been sunny and very pretty. It was a little too cold for the pups and I to go over to the park but we made do with two walks around the neighbourhood instead- one this morning and one this evening. It's nice to get out and about. I also managed to do a little landscaping/gardening in spite of the cold weather. I bought a tree yesterday because I'd been looking for an ornamental cherry and I found one for $14.99. That seemed like a good deal to me. The only problem I have when buying large items like trees is that I drive a little Toyota Corolla and it doesn't really have much space for transporting items like that. Nevertheless, because I'm Captain Monkeypants and am exceedingly stubborn, I managed to get a seven food tree in my car. Doing things like this takes innovation but that, I think I have in spades. With the aid of a large plastic bag, nice bendy branches and some wiggling, I managed to get the tree in my car with little trouble. Driving home wasn't the most comfortable. It's hard to drive when there's a tree surrounding you but I did it quite well and the tree made it home in one piece. It is now standing in my newly landscaped garden flanked by two garden gnomes. I'm very into gnomes at the moment. I have no idea why. I think it's because my granny has always had gnomes and I have fond memories of them. I like seeing them in gardens so now I get to see them in mine. I also built my dogs a little sandpit this afternoon. It made sense. After all, I just got rid of a large propane tank that was left by the previous homeowner and underneath it was a nice little piece of uneven garden. I just so happened to have two fifty pound bags of sand. You may wonder why I have two fifty pound bags of sand just standing in my garage. Well, it's because I painted my family room, you see. I wanted to get some texture in the paint so I bought a bag of sand. Then, when I did a little research, I discovered I should have bought silica sand, not the kind you mix with concrete because silica sand is cleaner. So I bought a second bag of sand, this time it was silica sand. I used some for painting and then had about 48 pounds left. Thus, I poured the sand over the bare patch of ground. The pups are in heaven. As soon as I threw the empty bags away, Sookie was already digging. Rory joined in. I'm hoping that this means that they'll abstain from digging quite so many holes in the garden. They dig with great enthiasm, my girls. They literally are doing handstands or pawstands, I suppose they'd be, on two legs when they dig, they're so determined. So, all in all, it has been a very productive day. Yesterday was productive too but I got a bad case of the grumpies halfway through. After I brought the tree home, I went back out to do a little more shopping. It turned out to be a bad idea. It was the type of day where people just drove me a little crazy. Every aisle I went down, I'd stop and look and suddenly, some lady with a shopping cart would be heading down the same aisle and stand right in front of me. I hate that. Or, I'd be looking and two small children would be chasing one another down the aisle run into me. Or, I'd find a parking space and head towards it only to be cut off by another driver who decided they deserved it more. I don't like days like that. I get a bit crotchety. I think it was because I had gone out to look for Tuscan decor and planned on a nice leisurely browse but it didn't end up that way because every time I stopped to browse, someone else had to browse RIGHT THERE too. I don't mind sharing an aisle but I don't like it when even if I say, "excuse me," I'm ignored. Some days are just like that. On the plus side, I recognized I was grumpy quite quickly and I decided to come home and clean instead. I was much more successful in shopping today. I went back out and found the perfect paintings to complete my family room. They all have a Tuscan theme with poppy fields. I love poppys. They're such a burst of bright colour and they just make me feel nice and warm. One day, I shall go to Tuscany but, in the mean time, I'm going to pretend I'm there as I sit in my Tuscan family room, drinking wine, eating anti pasti and relaxing with a book. Of course, since the room isn't heated, it's a little cold to do that now but, well, good things come to those who wait. I just need to be a little more patient. As it's been established, I'm not great with that but I'm working on it. I just wish patience would come more quickly. Happy Monday!