On Hold

I'm sitting here holding. Holding on the phone. And have been; for about an hour. Off and on.
I'm once again trying to clear up some of my late Uncle's Estate business.
Trying.
I'll probably be trying when they lay ME to rest.
Oh; wait. I'm being cremated. If I haven't burnt up from the frustration of handling all this crap.
What the hell ever happened to speaking with a human being? When did it become fashionable to be handed from 1 machine to the next? And why?
We're battling unemployment; high blood pressure and explosive acts of violence.
I'm wondering if we could decrease a bit of all 3 by actually increasing human contact once again.
Think of it. You call to get an answer to a problem; beef about a complaint; work out a solution; etc.
AND you get a person. Someone who's been trained to handle that particular situation. Even if it only means to reduce that particular bill by - say - 10 bucks. At least you feel someone listened to you and took some kind of action. Someone acknowledged the fact you live and breathe.
You know; someone actually gave a Tinker's damn.
Maybe they just sat and listened to you spout.
Sometimes that's all you want.
Sometimes that's all you need.
So we increase the employment by putting people to work handling the phones and tackling all these issues. They problem solve and listen and they contribute back to society because they have a paycheck again. Woohoo! What a concept!
Blood pressures are lowered because both people on the ends of the phone have some of their issues resolved. The callers get someone to answer the damn phones and the worker bees now have income.
Oh; and permission to hang-up on jerks.
That's gotta come into play. Have to be fair here.
Violence decreases somewhat because if you talk to someone; you don't want to break the frickin' machine in frustration. Trust me. TRUST me.
I am so so so so so sick of being on hold trying to get someone to talk to me.
And when I get them after 6 eons? It takes 3 minutes to clear things up. All that time wasted for 3-6 frickin' minutes.
But I have to have a paper trail and names and notations to make sure I cover myself AND I have to make sure I AM doing this correctly.
I answer to 8 people on this.
Plus; She-Who-Bore-Me and her Brother are being such shits about all this; I slip up and I'm doomed.
So I trip the light fantastic and tread my tight rope so very carefully.
And all in all; I hang on.
I just keep hanging on.
OnceAgain

How Long?

Wow. How long has it been since I've posted? Months? Probably. I've been writing for sure. Fired off some doozeys. Maybe I should just do cut and pastes. These would have burnt up the pages. But, I didn't think of that at the time. I just had to do these "jobs" - yes, let's call them that - and get on with things.
And so I did.
Get on.
I've been pretty much hanging on by my fingernails some days.
How do people that post do this everyday? When do they find the flippin' time? I, mean, this takes a while. And even if you have something to write about; you have to compose the words in your head before you can put your fingers to the keyboard.
Don't you?
So, I haven't posted here. Just fired volley after volley of rhetoric at some relatives to keep them at bay and handled some business that has turned my world on its tail.
Such fun.
I can back the relatives up and make them run for the hills. Don't try to beat me in a word battle. Well, not if I've time to compose my answers and write them. Verbally; you stand a chance. My acid may not be fatal. Written; it will scour the flesh from your bones.
Business is tougher. You have to temper yourself. Being an ass can do more harm than good. So how to stand your ground; not be victimized; right the wrongs and keep the faith is tough. Luckily; if you write; you can cool your jets and think things thru.
I tend to want to write my way out of my dilemmas. It's a tad safer. For all involved; actually.
So writing is a catharsis. It really is. Wipes everything away. Or not. You have it saved to a file or placed in a folder for safekeeping in case you have to pull it back up for the lawyers. And the whatevers
They require you to do that you know. Bring in the hard copies. Don't want to do that work of "looking" for anything themselves. Lazy bums, they are, they are.
I should know; I'm working with 2 now. 1 for the Estate; 1 for my case.
And there's my jobs. Still with the hospital PRN; still with the school Mondays and Wednesdays.
Still a wife, Skip's hanging in there. Still have the 10 grandest kids.
And the house is still undone. Little things to be unsure; but undone. Contractors. Right now; not my favorite people. But we only lived in the RV; in the driveway; for 6 weeks.
Think of the adventure.
And I learned a lot those weeks. About a lot of things.
So I guess, I need to get back to this blogging as it soothes me. And I know that I'm only 1 of a few readers. Not a problem. I write for the therapy. Getting it out keeps me from festering within. And hopefully things will settle down so I won't have to fire off to others.
Maybe all I'll be doing is adding a note in here.
Oh, my. That would mean that my life was settling down. I actually would be taking time for ME!
Oh, what a concept.
Time to do something I haven't done in months.
Nothing.
OnceAgain

Camping in the Driveway?!

It's a good thing that Skip bought the Class A. Oh, I know I fussed about losing my Travel Trailer and went on and on about it. But, we couldn't get it up the driveway. And Terra - name for the new RV - fits OK.
And Skip has learned t0 back it in just fine since that little incident with the guttering on the garage.
But, back to the present, we are now living in the damn thing. And have been for a week and a half. We have been having the house redone.
It's all Skip's fault. HE'S the one that started it all. HE'S the one that had the old porch taken down and a new one built.
Then we got the idea that we'd get proper flooring put in the house and get rid of that old, OLD carpet. Especially upstairs - YE-UCK. And tile in the kitchen, bathrooms and laundry room.
Oh, and while we were at that, let's get the master bathroom upped a little. It's a disaster from the get go.
Aaaannnndddd the little half bath get it finished and tidied up, too.
It would have gone well. It would have.
But, the foreman pulled his back. And while he was having panic attacks in the MRI; his 2nd in command decided to get things "a go in."
And so he did.
So he tore into the house and off he went.
I came home from my 36 hr. work stretch and walked into a war zone. Skip was out of town and due in later that day. I was cringing. Hoo boy wait until he sees this.
Our 2 nights in the RV was gonna stretch out big time.
Flooring was started up and downstairs; furniture was jammed and moved everywhere; no toilets connected and the showers were unfauceted. Whoop-pit-ti-do! Life in the construction lane.
Nice kid; means well; no master plan.
And here we are. Last weekend was Memorial Day weekend. We drove our "home" over to a campsite south of Atlanta and stayed their Saturday and Sunday. We sorta got away. At least we had proper hookups. And we needed to decompress a little.
Just needed to not look at all the "stuff."
We came back to the "team" hard at it on Monday. I walked in looked around and walked out. I just didn't want to deal with it. I had to get an exam ready for my class and that was that for me.
Skip went down to the I & O (sports bar) to meet some friends and watch NASCAR. I typed and worked.
After the gang left the house; I went in and squeezed and scrawled and got my little printer and paper and printed out my exams. Worked the answer key out, too.
For today, I've got a uniform for tonight; briefcase ready for school, and getting ready for a nap so I can overnight and then teach in the morning.
I'm in Terra and there's rain on the roof to pitty pat me to sleep.
Now if the work crew will just get things cleared up; all will be well. I guess in the meantime; I'll just camp out here and wait.
OnceAgain

Cheaters lack Vision

Well; the students got a glimpse of me today they weren't expecting. Aaaannnnddddd; probably didn't want to see.
Happy Monday morning, luvs.
I love teaching; not instructing; teaching. I want my students to learn. Not memorize, but take the material and tuck it away so that it becomes useful, workable part of them.
Workable being the operative word. I'd like to prepare them for employment; for a career. And so I trudge along; pulling and tugging and yanking and fussing and yammering and picking.
For the most part; they claim to enjoy the class time. And there are some giggles. Especially on Wednesdays. Ah, the mornings after I've pulled a 12 hr. night shift and then bounced into the classroom to teach classes until noon.
For the most part; we go thru at warp speed and get to it. A stumble or 2, but there you are.
And for the most part; they are good, good kids. For the most part.
Today .... they got a good scolding. That they weren't prepared for and were surprised by and wound up being a bit afraid of.
Sorry about that bad English stuff.
On no uncertain terms; the law went down. The tattle tellers had blown some covers. Oops. We defined the parameters, the boundaries, and the rules.
Oh, and the consequences if all was not followed.
They didn't care for that part. Not a bit; not one bit. But part of being an adult means acting like one and there you are. Gotta grow up and gotta abide by the rules and all that ... stuff.
It sucks man; just sucks.
You could tell the culprits right away. I pretty much had my 'spitions. There are always those tell-tell signs, the tattle-tellers had confirmed it and the nervous twitching gave it away.
They knew they'd been made.
2, I busted outright. Ohmigod. It didn't get ugly, but it got serious. Oh, we were definitely business. Strictly business.
That they had never seen me like "this" was daunting for them.
Oh; well.
Some times ya just gotta shake it up.
So let's see how this goes. There's a new girl in town. And she insists that her people have integrity. Be honest. Follow the rules.
Or they can take their take-home-exams that they slogged thru in 4-5 hours and learn from; in 30-45 minutes in class. Oh, it will still be open book; but I defy them to do as well.
And they know; they'll sink like a rock. Not just grade wise; but that they won't learn as well. They know that they are learning; actually learning from my methodology.
Even my star pupil, said the fastest time he's logged has been 2 1/2 hours.
I woke them up this morning. Didn't even need coffee to do it.
Tough.
Open your eyes kids and look around. See things the way they really are; the world isn't for corner cutters and losers.
The world is for those with vision and ability.
Those that can see their way forward and follow the path.
OnceAgain

Wills

It's been a while. A long while since I've had time to post. Sorry about that. There's just been so very much going on. And on.
How many jobs do I have now? 3? 4? Hell; I've lost frickin' count. Not that it matters. I've not been doing any of them at my usual 110%.
'Tis hard to give anything your all; when you're so tired all the time.
Good news? I'm into my size 4 jeans again.
Bad news? I wasn't on a diet to get down a size or 2 to get into them.
Stress will do that to ya; beat the livin' day lights outa ya and turn your insides out.
Did I mention the hair loss I've been experiencing? Yep; got that, too.
Not in handfuls or anything, just noticing that I'm shedding more than the damn cat. Charley's a jealous boy. And when the Himalayan's getting green with envy because you leave more fur behind on the couch than him...well, my word; life has turned a bit on its head.
This Estate business is getting out of hand. And I'm damn tired of it. Damn tired. Executor stands for "You-are-constantly-gonna-have-to-deal-with-idiots."
Not the "Boys," not my cousins. They've been wonderful. Very supportive and cooperative. Love 'em to pieces. They've helped me keep what sanity I've been able to cling, too.
Ah, but the 2 villains in this Southern Family Gothic. Mumsie and Uncle Dear. Oh; THEM. Whatever I did to be cursed with those 2; please; I'm sorry and I beg forgiveness. Tell me and I swear, I'll never do it again.
They are liars and crooks and hypocrites.
Nothing like having someone throw Biblical phrases, etc., at you when they're blantantly flaunting their advirace; coveting; and good-old-fashioned-greed.
Gotta just sit back and love that one.
They've even gone so far as to harrass Daddy to try and get me to hand over the cash. Had to put number blocks on his phone.
Uncle Dear was just an ass about it. Ask him to stop the calling and he called the same night, the same night.
And this is the same man who always says," you have a blessed day." when you meets or leaves your presence."
Total hypocrite. Total.
And that just bites. Raises my naturally low blood pressure, too. This from the dude that was there to help hoist a Bible at me.
And so here we are. Trudging our way thru this squalid trench. That's the only way I know to describe it. The trench of death and all that goes with it.
Don't die; the hell with the pretty term of passing or some such; without a specific WILL. Just for the ones you leave behind.
Look at this way; you won't care. They will. W-I-L-L. It'll give them time to mourn you properly. It will give them TIME.
And maybe; you can help some of those behinders make less of an ass of themselves as they stay close to God.
Or make it less work for them at any rate.
Praise the Lord.
OnceAgain

Me Time

Its sunny again. THANK goodness. After yesterday; and the day before; well; I thought that was that. We'd definitely broken the drought and we'd definitely have wet feet (along with every frickin' thing else) for the rest of our stay here in sunny south Florida.
But the sun came out to play this morning and she's stayed.
Yip - ee!
Now if the damn wind would die down it'd be perfect; but alas; one can't always have everything.
AND I finally got it through the old man's head that I just wanted a little "me" time.
Wasn't going to run away. Wasn't going to do anything nefarious. Wasn't going to go off and spend all his money. Just wanted to sit in the relative quiet of my own company and .... do nothing.
OK, well read the paper; clean up my e-mail; sit; get up and put some hooks up in the new RV; putter around and do whatever struck my fancy; and just hum around as I pleased.
That kind of me time. Doin' what I wanted to do or NOT do when I wanted to do or NOT do it me time.
THAT kinda time.
I don't get that when we go places. Usually.
This time I put my foot down.
Don't get me wrong. I love, love, love my Grandest kids and their parents. Love seeing their other grandparents. Love going around to the baseball games and all the goings on, etc. But at some point; I just want to stop and just stop.
Isn't that what vacations and getting away from it all stuff is about? Isn't that what you are supposed to do when you "chill?"
What ever happened to coming home tanned and rested?
OK; OK; I know I won't be doing the tan thing unless its from a spray gun; but can't I be rested for God's sake?
I mean come on people! I work 2 jobs and I'm doin' this Estate thing that "she who bore me" is givin' me fits over. Why can't I put my feet up and catch my breath here and take a minute; or 2; or what the hell; 180.
So I ask for this Sunday.
And after a little too much pushing, Mr. always-has-something-planned-and-things-to-do pushed that one inch too far. And I expressed myself in those terms that only I can.
Finally he got the message. Oh, she wants to stay at the RV without me, or the kids, or even the Grandest kids and just be.
Yes. I just want to be.
Dumb butt.
And even then he wanted me to drive him over to the ball park and leave him with friends so I "could have a car." I told him no.
Well, that was the gist. It was growled. Maybe snarled. But it was a definite negative.
He took the car and drove himself.
I do hope he's enjoying his baseball game. And I hope the Cardinals are winning. It's Spring Training here in Jupiter, FL. They're playing the Orioles today. And I'm not there.
I'm here. At my RV. I'm puttering and putering and doing what I darn well please when I please. The sun is warm, the wind a bit cool. But my oh my, not one person is here to rain on my parade.
OnceAgain

Patience

I'm not the most patient of people. Really. Friends can vouch for me on this one. So can my girls.
And now this is the 2nd Monday that I've had to sit in a waiting room and cool my jets why the old man's had a "procedure."
Thank you, Tracey.
Need to smack that young lady.
Not literally, of course.
She did it. Got her Dad to have a physical after all these years.
It was what she wanted for Christmas.
I gave up years ago. It was the cause of way too many problems and consternation in our relationship. Way too much.
Oh, say it. We had a couple of good fights. And a little yelling.
It was early in our relationship. Very early.
You know those days. When the 2 of you are still circling each other and defining your territories and deciding who is willing to give how much to the other. Who is willing to cede how much power over the other.
The stupid years.
The years before you realize that if you don't love someone as they basically are as a person; you'd better just haul ass outa there because you really don't belong together in the 1st place.
It took me a while in this life to realize that people are only able to love you as much as they are able to love you. Period.
And that doesn't mean I'm wise beyond the wise. It just means I've accepted the dude for who he happens to be.
And I get up and walk away when he acts like the jackass he can be. I don't fight and scream.
It just isn't worth it to get into a maelstrom. Why should I act like a fool and lower my standards just to meet someone else's expectations?
And then, when things have calmed down, I'm willing to talk. But, if you get loud again? We go back to the freeze zone.
And I can be VERY icy.
Actually seems to work better than the old fighting.
Men hate to be ignored. So do most women.
This doesn't mean I won't go to war for what is right vs. what is wrong; it just means I don't waste my precious energy on minuscule nothings.
And now I'm in the freeze zone for another reason. This waiting room is damn cold. And the old man is having a procedure to see if those outstandingly elevated PSA's mean a cancer is lurking in his nether regions.
And I will have to be patient even after this event is finished while they "cook" the biopsies.
Wonderful. I have something else to look patiently forward too.
Not.
OnceAgain