The fat lady is singing

I have a reputation for not showing emotion..
But today is my last day at Heatcraft and it's all slamming down on me..

As I drove into work I thought "this is the last time I'll make this drive".
and so it goes.
This is the last time I'll sign onto this computer.
This is the last time I'll walk down this hall.
This is the last time I'll get a cup of coffee from this pot.
This is the last paycheck they're going to hand me.
This is the last time I'll pee in this bathroom.
I'm deleting personal stuff from my computer.
Sifting through ten years of emails I've saved.
Packing up ten years of crap that has accumulated in my desk.

I'm getting goodbye emails, and goodbye hugs from people I thought didn't even like me..
So little miss "never let 'em see you cry", has gone through a box of Kleenex..

And if one more person says "what's your plan?", I'm going to scream..
I don't have a plan.. Not even sorta.. I know I'm taking January to get my shit together..
Will I go back to school? Will I try to find a job that pays what this one does?
Will I go be just an LPN? Will I be willing to commute to Champaign?
Will I accept that I have to take a pay cut, and adjust my spending habits?
I have no answers to any of those questions..

This is what I know.. I'm gonna buy a treadmill and get my fat ass off the couch..
I'm gonna clean out my closet.. I'm gonna watch Oprah and Ellen..
I'm going to do some stuff with my mom..
And I'm going to purge Heatcraft from my system..

And then I'm gonna panic.. And hopefully that panic will set my on the right path for the rest of my life..

So this afternoon when I walk out of the Heatcraft door for the last time,
I'll look back and smile, and then I'll look forward to the next chapter in my life..
Whatever that may be.

I was over dressed at Wal-Mart

Well I went to Wal-Mart over the weekend..

It's always been one of my least favorite places to be..
It's crowded, people are rude, and their "roll back" prices, really don't seem all that "rolled back" to me..
I avoid it.. About the only time I go, is close to Christmas and if I need a new CD (Besides Chart, there is nowhere in Danville to buy CD's. And Chart isn't open when I'm not at work)..

So I chased a Xanax with a tequila shooter and headed out to Wally Martins..
I've made a decision.. I'm going to go out there once a week for the rest of my life, and I'll tell you why..

After getting through the first 5 minutes of initial shock, I started to feel really good about myself..
I mean REALLY good..
I'm willing to bet my self-esteem went up by like 150 points..

Where do these people come from??? Do I really live in the same town as them??
Who shops in their pajamas??? Don't get me wrong.. I LOVE my flannel jammies.. And when I'm at home, I live in them..
However.. I would not go shopping in them.. I wouldn't even run to the gas station in them..

And here's the thing.. These people are wearing jammies to Wal-Mart, that they bought at Wal-Mart..
How does security know the difference.. They could put a brand new pair of Jammie bottoms on in the store and just say "I wore them in".. And if that's the case, can I walk out with a TV and say "but I was watching it when I walked in"..

But if you watch.. Some of these girls flit around in their jammies like they're a Victoria's secret model..

Ladies... there is nothing sexy about flannel jammie bottoms that have Betty Boop on them.. Especially when your morning mascara is running down your face and your bed head is poking people in the eye..

I also saw a man in shorts, several people without teeth, a bunch of women wearing clothes that were about 4 sizes too small and a few husbands on leashes..

I always frowned at the people that were lighting a cigarette as the doors of hell were opening to let them out..
Now I get it..

Counting down the days

I'm a little sad today..
I was called to human resources to sign my "release" papers..
I'm down to 7 working days at a job I thought I would retire from..
But it's kind of like when a loved one dies..
When someone dies unexpectedly, it's much more difficult on that persons family..
I believe I watched my grandmother die for over a year.. She had emphysema.. And it was a slow miserable way to die.. When she finally passed, it was almost a relief.. We had watched her suffer for so long..
The ironic part is.. The day she died was the very day I started at Heatcraft.. I came to work at 7:30 that morning.. She died at like 8..
I think the past 10 months have been like that (a long slow death) here at Heatcraft..
When they first made the announcement, I was in denial.. I figured it was no big deal, and was just going to be a nice severance package for me to live on, while I take my time figuring out what direction I'm headed..
I didn't realize the affect every person here had on me..
Whether I like them or got along with them, or not.. I was affected by all of them.. It really was a family.. And with every family, some siblings get along better than others..
There are less than 10 of us left now.. And as each person left, a piece of me left with them..
(and a couple of them keep leaving and coming back, taking with them even more pieces of me)..
We all say we'll keep in touch.. And we all might, for a while.. But eventually we'll get wrapped up in our new lives and Heatcraft will be a distant memory..
A few years from now, we might pass an old Heatcraft "sibling" at the mall (if there still is a mall).. We might smile a little or nod.. But we'll be thinking to ourselves "they probably don't even remember me".. Or it may even be us thinking "I know him from somewhere.. but I can't remember where"..
Signing my papers this morning, finalized things for me.. And it's bitter sweet..
The last few months have taken a toll on me.. My friends and family would confirm that.. It's been a long slow death at Heatcraft.. High stress with no reward.. I'm exhausted and tearful at all times.. Every conversation I have, somehow turns to me being consumed with the shutdown and unemployment (sorry everyone)..
It will be sweet to finally let that go.. The relief part of a long suffering death..
Walking away from 10 years with my Heatcraft family, very bitter.. and very sad..
And to all you Heatcrafters reading, or lurking (see "a frog and her blog"), if you see me at the mall, say hi..
If I don't remember you, I'll pretend like I do.... ;)

PMS or the bus?

Why does PMS get such a bad wrap??

First of all..
GENTLEMEN..

PMS = Pre menstrual syndrome..
PRE.. DID YOU HEAR ME? PRE.. LATIN FOR BEFORE, PRIOR, AHEAD OF, the menstrual cycle..

I utilized PMS this week, and it felt good.. Because yes I am PMS'ing.. And yes, I'm a wicked horrible person for like 3 days.. And yes, I am aware of it.. And no, do not offer me a Midol because I will rip your head off..

I think I mentioned that Andrew blew up his car.. But I didn't mention that he got laid off.. So this means he sits at home all day doing nothing.. And like most 19 year olds, he gets bored..
Two or three times a week, he calls to borrow my car (that I've had less than a year)..

The car owner in me can't stand to get that phone call.. I HATE the idea of him driving my car..
With his history, he couldn't get a driver's license until a few months ago. So he's a new driver, with a proven record of bad judgment.. And even though it's used, it's my new car..

But the mom side of me feels bad for him being stuck at home.. I know what it feels like to be without a car, and it sucks.. With the ADHD, no job to provide him spending money, and no car to get him anywhere.. He has to be miserable.. It would break my heart to turn him down..

Then I got this idea.. If he doesn't ask to use the car, I don't have to turn him down, and there is no guilt..

So.. He called Tuesday and wanted the car for the afternoon..
Okay, fine, whatever.. That means I go pick him up on my lunch hour and he brings me back to work..

I was already annoyed that he was cutting into my lunch hour (in walks the PMS), and even more annoyed that he was going to drive my car and use my gas. And I had no idea what he was going to do.. He told me he needed to pick his friend Brad up, so he could help Andrew move furniture.. A lame excuse that I fell for..
There is just too much stress to argue with him right now..

On the way from his house to Heatcraft, I was sort of ripping his ass.. Telling him not to move the seat, not to do anything illegal in my car, wear a seat belt, don't use an entire tank of gas.. blah blah blah..

He came to pick me up at 4:35 (late) and he had Brad (we call him B-Rad) with him.. I got behind the wheel.. The seat was moved (laid back in "gangsta" fashion). And it smelled like they smoked a pack of cigarettes in the 2 mile drive.
Just a mom needing a reason to bitch, and a kid giving me one...
I mentioned the amount of miles he put on the car, and lack of gas in the tank.. Really stupid stuff to complain about.. But PMS over-ruled my senses of logic and compassion.

Then I got this idea.. It was completely intentional, I planned it..
I said "Mommy's PMS is in full swing, you might not want to piss me off".. I could hear B-Rad sink into the back seat.. But without missing a beat, Andrew says "Thanks for the warning.. I'll talk to you next week".

I think my plan would have worked.. My mistake was.. I chuckled when he said that.. He has a great sense of humor.. and he really does make me laugh..
Guess who called today to use my car... (sigh).

My mom fell off a mountain

Some things you need to know before I tell you this story..
1) my mother is a realtor.
2) my mother knows Stephanie Carneghi (towing company) socially.
3) my dad was hunting near Springfield.
4) my mother is listed in my phone as "ice" which is an acronym for 'in case of emergency'.

I had just gotten out of the shower late Saturday morning.. Put on my long, furry, warm robe and sat on the couch next to my daughter.. I was trying to figure out if I could get away with hibernating for the day, because it was cold as hell outside..

So my phone rings and is says it's "ice".. You'll see the irony in this later..
I answer it and the conversation goes something like this.
Me: Hello.
Ice: uh, hi.
Me: What's up.
Ice: I have a little problem.
Me: uh, okay? what?
Ice: I was taking my client to see a house in Indiana.. It's up a long winding hill.. And we slid off the road. Now we're hanging off the side of cliff.
Me: What?
Ice: (repeats herself)
Me: (I yelled at Scott that he was going to have to go help my mom)
Ice: uh no, one person isn't going to help. (then I start to hear the panic in her voice).
Me: What about a tow truck?
Ice: I don't know (more panic).
There was a little conversation about calling Stephanie Carneghi, but mom didn't have a number for her..
Ice: well he's (the client) out of the car.. But he says I need to stay in the car because he needs my weight to hold it.
Me: The car is falling off a cliff, and he told you to stay in it?
Ice: Yes. But it feels like it's moving.
Me: What?
Ice: it's moving. the car is moving. (big panic).
Me: Get out of the car mom.
Ice: I don't know what to do.
Me: if the car is moving, get out of the car.. I've got to get dressed and we'll be there with a tow truck..

Then the panic sets in at my house.. I'm trying to get dressed, look up numbers, and bark orders at Scott and Ryleigh. Ryleigh is freaking out "what's wrong with my grandma".. She must have asked 5 times before I actually heard her..

So I call Kevin's towing.. I've dealt with them before, I like them.. but they don't go to Indiana.

Then I call Carneghi's because, after all Stephanie Carneghi knows my mom..
The conversation went like this.
Him: Carneghi's.
Me: Is Stephanie available?
Him: Who?
Me: Stephanie CARNEGHI?
Him: (in a very shitty voice) She has nothing to do with this company..
Apparently Stephanie and Mr. Carneghi divorced and she owns Carpenter's now..
So I try to explain to this jack ass what is going on..
I've dealt with him before too, which is a complete post in itself.
He was such a jerk and wasn't understanding the seriousness of the situation..
So I said "ya know what, forget it" and hung up..

I called Carpenter's..
Him: Carpenter's.
Me: Is Stephanie available?
Him: No, but I can leave a message.
Me: No, but I need help..
And I start to tell him the story.. Apparently the battery on his phone went dead.. But then some lady picked it up and started taking the information that I had..
I gave her the address and she yelled it to the driver.. and asked him if he knew how to get there.. He did.
She asked if the car was drivable and I said "I don't know, it's hanging over a cliff".
Her: what? (she wasn't in on the first part of the conversation).
Me: It's hanging over a cliff.
Her: (with panic in her voice) repeats this to the driver.
I can hear him say "she needs to get out of the car".
Me: I already told her that. But I'm not sure, she could be over-reacting.
Her: (to the driver) she could be over reacting.

We wrap up the conversation and I continue to get ready..

My phone rings.. It's ice.
Me: I'm on my way, and I'm bringing a tow truck. Are you out of the car.
Her: no, he (the client) says there is no danger of it going over.
Me: Alright, I'll be there in a minute.

It's a 22 minute drive, and I'm thinking I can't get there fast enough..
And when I do get there, is my mother going to be smashed at the bottom of a hill.

But we finally get there.. This is what I saw..
The green Ford Expedition had slid off the road into a small trench on the drivers side..
You know, like the rut on the side of a dirt road.. About 5 feet from the actual drop off..

But the truck was so big and my mom is so not.. So from the passenger side all she knew, was the truck is leaning (a lot) and all she can see from her seat, is the bottom of the drop.. She couldn't tell how far they actually were from the edge..
By the time we got there, she was actually out of the truck, and we were all able to laugh..

It took the tow truck guy about 45 minutes to get the Expedition out..
From what I could tell, the guy had tried to get himself out and spun his tires, digging the truck deeper into the rut..

And just for the record.. It didn't even occur to me to blog about this..
Until my mom said "oh great, I can't wait to see what you write about this"..
So here it is mom.. Just for you..

Drama Drama Drama

I can't believe how much drama there can be in middle school.. Ryleigh goes to a very small private school.. She has literally been in the same class with the same 20 kids since pre-school.. A few have come and gone, but there is a core of 20 students that have been constant.. I pick her up every day and as soon as we walk out of the classroom, the chatter starts.. EVERY DAY..

The conversation always goes something like this:
Brittney (all names are altered because I can't spell most of the actual names) is mad at me because I sat with Susie at lunch.. But during science class Susie told Billy I wanted to go out with him, but I don't.. I like him as a friend though.. but even if I did want to go out with him, I can't. Because he went out with Jenny and she's my friend and friends don't go out with each others ex's..
And then I was crying in the bathroom because Nicky and Tiffany were making fun of me because my pants were too short.. But I don't think they are mom, they cover the tops of my shoes..
They're just in 8th grade and think they're so much cooler than everyone else.. But they're fake mom.. They were talking to Christy, who's kind of chubby, like they were her best friend.. And then when Christy walked away, I heard Tiffany say "she's so fat and nasty".. That's so mean, I would never do that to someone (yeah right).
I think I want to go out with Tommy.. I'm going to have Angie ask him for me.. He already went out with Tammy.. But that's okay because I don't like her anyway.. But here's the problem mom.. Mom? are you listening?.. There are 12 girls and 8 boys in my class.. So the boys I haven't already gone out with, have either gone out with one of my friends, or they're just too gross to go out with..

And she says all that before we ever get out of the building..

Now I've sat back and watched this since the school year started.. And I think I can define "going out"..
Going out when your a 6th grade girl, is define by the level of ignoring you do.. If you're going out with someone, you ignore them more than every other boy. You don't ever talk to them or make eye contact.. If you're standing in the hall talking to your friends, one of them will say "here he comes".. At that point you giggle loudly, say something like "he really said that?", and flip your hair without looking in his direction.
And when playing dodge ball in P.E., you hit the person you're going out with, harder than you hit any other person..
When it's time to break up, you always have a friend do it.. And usually you have them do it via text message or email..

Andrew played ice hockey for 6 years.. Your rhino glands haven't lived until they've smelled the aroma of sweaty hockey equipment, sitting in the trunk of a car for three days..

Back then I referred to it as "boy funk smell".. And on a good day, you could actually catch a whiff of it wafting from his bedroom.. I truly did not know such a smell existed.. And I firmly believed there could not be another smell worse than that..
I was wrong.

Last night I was sitting on the couch next to Ryleigh.. I kept smelling something that took me back to youth hockey days.. Boy funk smell..
It wasn't constant.. Just an occasional sniff.. I was too busy voting millionaires off of TV shows to think too much about it..

When I told her it was bed time, she gave me some grief.. She always does.. And I usually wrestle her to the floor, or tickle her until she can't stand it.. We have a Kodak moment, and off she goes..
Little different last night.. I got her to the floor and it hit me.. Like this brick wall slamming into me.. My eyes watered, my throat closed, I think my skin crawled..

I've known for a couple years now that she had stinky feet..
We talk about it, she has to keep her shoes away from me, she knows she has to scrub her piggies daily.. It's not something we were oblivious to.. She has stinky feet, I call them her "stinkies", she laughs about it.. This would be the "funk" in dysfunctional.

But last night.. OMG!!!!.. I'm pretty sure my beautiful 11 year old girly girl, had stopped at a pig farm on the way home.. And then waded through a field of rotten feta cheese just before she came into the house..
They smelled so bad, I covered my face..

And what did she do??? She took her socks off and smelled them.. SHE SMELLED HER PIG POOP, FETA SOCKS.. Yes ladies and gentlemen, I have a genius on my hands..

In our wrestling, she managed to get her stinkies all over my couch pillow (I think she did it on purpose.).. I kid you not, after she went to bed, I could still smell it on the pillow..

I would throw it in the incinerator (fire place).. But I'm afraid a mushroom cloud will appear above my house..

The cat is still alive.. Although I think she's trying to kill herself.. about 3 minutes after Ryleigh went to bed, Tessa had her head stuck in the shoe that Ryleigh had worn to the feta field..

Anybody have a foot funk smell remedy?

Reality bites

My mom would tell you that I watch too much TV.. And I probably do..
I have two types of shows I watch.
I'm not sure what to call the first type.. Drama I guess.. The stuff you have to figure out..
House - trying to figure what mysterious illness his patient has..
Horatio - trying to figure out why the pool boy was impaled..
Grissom - playing with doll houses that contain precarious positions of dead..
Bones - boiling skulls to find murder weapons..
You get the idea.

My other favorite is reality TV.. The competitive ones, that start out with like 16 people and they get whittled away to just two.. Then America gets to vote for their favorite, or whatever.. You know the kind.. The Mole, Biggest loser, The Next Food Network Star, Survivor, American Idol.

So last night on Fox, they're premiering a new show called The Secret Millionaire (and since it was in the regular time slot for Bones, I guess I had to watch).. Multimillionaires go live in poverty for a week (a whole week? I can't imagine).. They have to interact with people in poverty, without revealing their own social status.. At the end of the week (It's actually only 6 days), they have to give away at least $100,000.00 of their own money (I have to wonder if Fox is paying them to participate)..

Anyway.. There were two episodes on last night.. The first one was a sorta goofy looking lawyer that probably weighed about a buck ten.. He was tall and scrawny and wore high waters.. With him, was his over privileged 22 year old guitar playing, hippy wannabe son.. I was prepared to be disappointed.. I wasn't.. It was actually a really great show (except for all the crying. It was like an Oprah and Home Edition tear fest)..
The second episode was a rich southern couple.. He had started a chain of Raising Cain chicken restaurants, she sold her McDonalds franchise.. blah blah blah..
Now they're supposed to be undercover and appear to be down on their luck.. Yet they pulled up in a Suburban. And during the whole show, she had her Vera Wang sunglasses perched on top of her head, and the $125.00 manicure kept flashing across the screen.
He was good though.. In a battered hoodie, serious 5 o'clock shadow going on.. He was looking a little rough.. Although he stumbled a little when he was asked where he was from.. (He said Virginia, but surely they noticed the tags on the Suburban said Louisiana.)
It was sort of like it was his idea to play, and he just drug her unwilling ass along..
She just rubbed me the wrong way..
I realized I watched too much reality TV when I said "She just needs to get voted off"..
But I think I'll make that a new catch phrase.. Whenever somebody does something you don't like "just vote 'em off"..

trip to where?

Tryptophan break down.

Tryp - trip
to - to
P - pillow
H - have
A - A
N - nap

Actually Tryptophan is the amino acid found in turkey that according to legend, induces a "Turkey Coma" which is what I was in all weekend..
So thanks Mom for the great meal, and perfect day!!!!