Good Deed #7 Laundry Service

Today was my first day sitting with the elderly man while his wife got to spend some much-needed time outside of the house. Her daughter had driven up-state to spend the afternoon with her parents. Both are in their 90's. Unfortunately, Chester suffered a heart attack, followed by a few strokes, and is now left to spend his days in a chair or bed. He is entirely dependent on the care of others. However, his wife is very mobile, and still has "her wits" about her. Due to his need to be supervised, Virginia has not left the house in two years.

I found myself a little overwhelmed at the bittersweetness of their elderly life. Both were teachers for over 30 years and the hallways were dotted with pictures capturing those teachable moments I'm very sure they both cherished. They raised children, had grandchildren, and have been married for over 60 years. Their home was full of love in the form of photographs, momentos, and a piano with the songbook for a love song. I began wondering how Chester feels... how aware he is, and if his dependent life offers him much happiness. I wanted to know about him. What he liked to watch. What music he listened to. If he would enjoy my reading a book to him.

Before Virginia and her daughter left, her daughter said, "There's laundry in the washer and dryer. You don't have to take care of it if you don't want to, but if you do you can just lay the laundry on the ironing board."

Of course I'll take care of the laundry, I thought. I was actually quite happy to. And instead of simply plunking it on the ironing board, I folded everything and placed it in piles accordingly. It was strangely satisfying.

Chester nodded off while I was writing overdue thank you notes. I kept a close watch on him, and each time he wiggled his toes, I looked to see if he was awake. At one point, he did in fact lift his head, and I went over to see if he needed a sip of his juice.

"Hi Chester. I'm Mona, Pat's friend. Are you thirsty?"

To my surprise, he said no. I was under the impression that Chester didn't speak.

"Is there anything I can get for you?"

"No, not that I can think of right now." He replied.

I was pleasantly surprised. So happy that he was able to speak. Maybe after I become more familiar to him, I will ask him if he would like me to read, or find something that he would like to do that stimulates his mind a little. I let him know that I was nearby in case he needed something and returned to my thank you notes.

Once the mother and daughter returned, I couldn't help but notice the glow on Virginia's face. "I just can't believe all of the changes, and the new things!" They had gone to breakfast, stopped by a relative's house, and gotten groceries. Her three hour escape had literally brightened her day. She was so thrilled with her time out in the "real world" that she asked if I would come by again next Saturday. Of course, I will.

Not only do I love helping people, I love helping elderly people. I have always been passionate about their quality of life, and how they are treated. Virginia reminds me of my grandmother on my dad's side... very very sharp and active, despite being in her 90's. Providing her with the peace of mind necessary to allow her to get out and enjoy a little life, especially when she doesn't have as much life to look forward to as others, made me so happy. I can't really describe all of the emotions I felt, but I can say that it was a very rewarding experience, and I look forward to getting to know them both better... and folding more laundry.

From Purr to Brrr...

Winter here will be one of, if not, THE coldest on record. As the economy falls apart and people lose their jobs, the utility costs have gone up, and the thermometer plummets down. I've managed to survive the chill of my thermostat being kept at 58 degrees by wearing multiple layers of clothing. But, what concerns me, is how well my cats are weathering the winter storms.

My poor black and white kitty, Groucho, is 15 years old, and therefore rather thin. Many a night I have found her shivering close to me and I feel quite guilty knowing that her frail body prevents her from keeping warm. So, in order to provide her comfort and warmth, I now allow her to seek shelter under my blankets. I actually tried to make her a little sweater out of an old sock today, but I wasn't quite sure that she welcomed her new "coat." She came to my lap shivering, and it appeared to be more out of fear than simply being cold, so I removed it.

My big boy, Theo, despite being quite fluffy and a little more "insulated" than my elderly cat, even finds the temperature in here to be a little on the chilly side. I catch him waiting impatiently by the vent for the rations of heat to blow over his fur. The look on his face (in the above photo) combined with the shivering of his "sister" guilted me into turning the heat up four degrees.

Having all of this snow has been rather beautiful, however, week-long bouts with temperatures in single or negative digits have made this winter more of a source of anxiety, than a source of white wonder. More like wondering how you will be able to afford your heating bill!

Naughty Me...

I'm being naughty. Staying up past my "bedtime." I was playing Scrabble against "HottieScottie13" and lost my connection, so I somehow decided that it was imperative for me to go through my cluttered email box. Why isn't going to bed on my to do list?

I wanted to mention that I have not forgotten my good deeds... well, literally I have forgotten to mention them. But... they are still on my mind and still a goal to get through this crazy economic disaster. Instead of trying to recall my silly episodes of kindness... I do want to mention my recent failure to perform a good deed.

Driving home from one of my "busy" days earlier this week, I passed a woman trying to shovel her driveway. Her face bore an expression of struggle, and because my neighbors tend to my snow-covered walks quite often, I thought it my turn to help someone else with the snow. But as I rounded the corner to my own street, I began to find quite trivial reasons NOT to help.

If I walk back with my shovel, it might take too long. (I'm sure she still would have been shovelling.)

And the interesting excuse...

What if she doesn't welcome my help?

Who wouldn't welcome help shovelling snow?! I've been thinking about this for days. I do believe that one reason people don't help one another more readily is because our lives have become so cluttered and self-seeking, that strangers do in fact become strange to us. What would she really have done to me? Push my face in the snow and cuss me out for being so nice? I would have had a shovel in hand to defend myself! And since one of my goals is to help preserve the safety and pleasantries of the neighborhood, why didn't I march right down the street to help her?

Tomorrow, I'm going to an elderly couple's house with a woman who cares for a 92 year old man. I'm going to meet the couple, because Saturday I will be staying there for a couple hours while the wife gets out for some much-needed her time. I am honestly a little nervous about it, considering the woman who cares for the man said, "All you can do is sit. He can't be left alone. If he happens to fall out of his chair, there is literally nothing you can do. And he has a "do not resucitate" order, so if for some reason he stops breathing... there is nothing you can do." I'm hoping neither situation occurs!

I was able to attend the open studio time today for ceramics. I trimmed up all three of my plates, painted little wildflowers on one, and decided to leave the other one plain before glazing. Afterwards, I found myself lacking inspiration and direction. So, I rolled out a big chunk of clay, layed it on the table in front of me, and waited for it to trigger an idea in my brain. I almost settled for more plates, although different in shape, but, I decided to place three of the forms next to each other and cut the clay around the edges. It has created a very interesting geometrical shape, that will become a wall hanging. Susan, a VERY talented artist, came over to admire what I was doing, and said she really liked the shape. Anytime Susan likes my work... well, it's like making your parents proud. One of these days, I'll remember to take my camera so I can share the "dirty" things I do in ceramics.

Creative Math

Today I made a valiant attempt to pay a shit pile of bills with the one turd I've been trying to polish for the last ten months... and let's just say, it didn't go very well. Something had to give...

So, I pondered my options.

Instantly, flashbacks of the onslaught of bailouts and Ponzi schemes flickered through my head. And that's where my solution came from. I think I'm on to something...All of this crazy economic collapse crap is a direct result of "creative math." Virtually every headline has something to do with the irresponsible use of creative math. We've got governors playing "Ebay" with Senate seats, playing "Hide and Go Seek" with unemployment... banks playing "Barbie Dream House" with bailout funds, donkeys and elephants playing "Tug of War" with Monopoly money... leaving us all stuck in a terrible game of "Clue;" so why can't I play "Fraction Subtraction" with my utility bills?

I'm not sure what happens when you only pay a fraction of your utility bills, but I'm sure I'll find out soon. Fact of the matter is, I couldn't afford the entire amount due. And if "everybody else is doing it" why can't I, albeit for honest reasons? If banks, giant corporations, and government officials aren't held accountable for their expenses, then why should that one girl in that one town be? If you compare my potential financial fallout to the forementioned, I'm a taxpayer bargain! I could be bailed out for less than one cent per taxpayer...

Day Two of "Normal" Person Training

Today was yet another day that began at 8 a.m. Hardly incredible, or really worth mentioning to most, but considering there have been many an anxiety-filled, sleepless night, getting UP at 8 a.m., instead of going to sleep, is an accomplishment.



I confess to hitting the snooze alarm. However, my brain, in typical fashion, went right into "spazz" mode and wouldn't allow for indulgent snoozing. I went straight from my bed, to the workout gear, and squeezed a twenty minute weight training session in. For the record, that's my second workout this week. Again, not incredible, but undoing the damage done by months of unemployment hell is going to take some time and patience. Afterwards, I hit the shower, got dressed, grabbed a cup of coffee and went out the door.



My 10:00 a.m. appointment with the local college was today. I haven't been on that campus in about 12 years. I had no idea where I was going, or who I was supposed to see. As soon as I pulled in the drive, I was instantly reminded of the horrors of parking during snowfall on campus. What a serious pain in the ass, and a blatant testament to spatial ignorance! It seems that when it snows, people forget how to park in a neat and orderly fashion. Apparently, their vehicles must be made of some type of highly absorbent material, because they feel it necessary to park four feet away from the vehicles on their left and right. Ahhh. The very SOUR memories of campus life.



Thankfully, my brain still has some memory left, and they have not changed the location of the Student Services office. I found my destination right away. As impressive as that is, to me at least, the rest of my visit left a lot to be desired. When your financial fate lies in the hands of others, you begin to over-analyze the "others" competency levels. The receptionist (who probably got the job I telephone interviewed for) began asking me if I had done this, that, the other thing, filled out that, applied for this. I was beginning to think that I would be turned away due to a lack of correct information, but somehow, I had managed to have everything necessary to allow my passage into a secret office with the Academic Sorcerer.



My Academic counselor, or whatever the correct title used, magically appeared. I was early, and was able to actually get started early. The expression on the woman's face was reminiscent of someone flexing every muscle in their face and neck to prevent the words "I hate fuckin college kids. I hate this stupid office. My support hose are too damn tight. And if the paper in the copy machine gets jammed one more fuckin time, I'm going to staple your eyelids together," from flying out of her mouth in a cheap-coffee fueled rage. I might be exaggerating, but she surely didn't seem friendly. In fact, she never even introduced herself. Come on! That's exactly how I remember my experiences in the advising offices there some 12 years ago. Feeling like you have just ruined some person's day, who, in theory, is supposed to provide you with support and direction. Let's just say my confidence level of this experience being any different is at an exteme low.



My appointment lasted all of about 6 minutes. 6 minutes. And I'm supposed to believe that it took them 5 weeks to find 6 minutes to get my education program started? Sigh. Red tape is a choking hazard. When it's not actually trying to choke me, I feel like choking myself with it. According to the unknown Academic Wizard, I should get word by Monday regarding what happens next.



Afterwards, I headed to the grocery store for a desperately needed trip for food. I had no milk, cereal, eggs, or bread. A few minutes into my trip, I ran into a friend of a friend in the snack aisle. I wasn't shopping for snacks, they have the meat temporarily located in the aisle to the right. The guy is a rep for "Jays" and seems to think I am all that and a bag of chips... sorry, couldn't resist. Too bad the guy is your typical married sleeze, so his 10 minute long charm-fest was a waste of his hormones. He tried to make his ploy to get into my private snack bag a little more honorable by telling me that he married his wife because she was uncomfortable being pregnant and unwed as a teacher. Nice.



I couldn't really afford all of my groceries, but I picked up things that would allow me to make meals out of what I already have, so hopefully this trip will last two months. I had to pay the local grocer's outrageous price for cat food, because it was probably more cost effective than driving across town. I finally swallowed my pride, and put a donation plea on Craig's List for cat food and bird seed, to which my first reply was, "Why don't you feed the birds to the cats. Don't you have a bb gun?" Had I not already known that some smartass would have come up with the same genius answer, I may have found it funny. But when you take a moment to get serious, about seriously humbling shit, having someone make fun of your situation is a tad irritating. I thought of writing some sort of "hope you wind up broke and jobless too" message, but instead chose to reply with, "How sweet of you to say." Sometimes, a manipulative guilt-trip is more thrilling than spewing angry ill will. One very kind woman did reply with advice to contact the Humance Society. Supposedly, they have a food bank for "people like us that are having a tough time." I wrote her back and thanked her for her kindness.



I spoke with Carol "with the longer last name" from the SAC while I was in the dairy aisle. Looks like I'll be meeting with her today, despite feeling an overwhelming need to simply sit on my ass. I'll be leaving here within the half hour.



I have to admit that I do enjoy getting up during the "normal" hours of "normal" people. Enjoying the sunrise... the small hint of importance you feel when you are on the snow-covered road because you actually DO have to be somewhere. And though it could be a week or more, before I have any concrete information as to what I will be doing with my time in the near future, I feel I'll get there... sooner than later. I just have to hope I don't run out of patience first.

"Normal" Person in Training

Monday. My first day as an almost "normal" person. I say this, because I actually had more than one thing on the day's agenda. A rarity for us impoverished, unemployed, single people.

My day began at 8:00 with a call into the unemployment line. I actually got through within the first six minutes, which is a vast improvement over the 45 minute long attempt a few weeks ago. Apparently, they actually are overhauling the system to accommodate the daily growth of the unemployment claims. A small victory for our plight here.

Next: a nap.

Mid-morning, I actually fixed myself something to eat. Well, it was leftovers, but I ate. Made a cup of coffee, and headed out to my ceramics "class." I can't tell you how much I enjoy the people that I craft dirt with. Such a nice mix of life paths, age groups and talent. An all around nice gathering of artistic humanity. I finished prepping one of my plates to dry, and painted an early spring budding tree and grass scene with iron oxide and chromium slips on another. Further affirming my belief that I am, in fact, obsessed with trees, and may have been a Jack Pine in a former life.

After my artsy time, I went downtown to meet with Carol about volunteering with our local Substance Abuse Council. I was quite impressed, and a bit overwhelmed, with the magnitude of programs and events they carry out within the community. I happened to be the only future volunteer at the meeting, joined by another Carol, "with the shorter last name." Both ladies were very personable, and also, very compassionate about my unemployed status. Potentially, while working with them, I may be able to pick up a few paid events, and connect with other non-profit organizations in the community for future employment opportunities. Hallelujah! Hope. Hope is always welcome here in my world!

Next stop: the bank. I had to deposit my graduation check from my California grandparents to make sure that my ceramics class and Art Center membership payment didn't bounce. These next 10 days are going to be so tricky financially... I frankly have no idea how I'm going to pull this one off.

Afterwards, I returned home. Ate dinner. Yep. Leftovers. Cleaned the house. Read my mail... and ironed out the schedule for the week. With so few commitments on deck, you'd think I could keep them straight. But as I said in a previous post... unemployment does terrible things to your mind. I had overbooked Thursday. WHAT? Hilarious. After shuffling things around, I now have something to do every day except for tomorrow.

So this is it. I'm a "normal" person in training. Easing back into the hustle and bustle of Normalville, and reclaiming my place in the community. Quietly letting the world know that I still have something to offer it, and I refuse to be forgotten.

Wondering or Wandering?

It's Saturday afternoon...

After starving myself all morning and into the early afternoon, I finally decided I was worthy of eating. In fear of my own economic collapse, I had frozen some bacon that looked as though it was about to "go bad." Freezing has to kill some cooties, doesn't it? Well let's hope it did, because I cooked it, and ate some. I made scrambled eggs with old onion, and shavings of sharp cheddar cheese, one piece of toast, and bad(?) bacon. Oh, yes, and I am treating myself to a cup of coffee, since I use milk with it, and that is about to expire. "Breakfast" at 2 in the afternoon.

Since tallying my bills the other day, I have had a cloud of anxiety over my head. The freezing temperatures have jacked up the utility bills, despite keeping my heat at 58 or 60 degrees, and using minimal electricity. I can't afford heat, but I also can't afford frozen pipes. Both my gas and electric are double what my budget allows for, and of course, unemployment doesn't give raises. So I am left to wonder how the hell I'm going to stay afloat. Is it time to call the mortgage company? I had already warned them that things could get difficult months ago. Not only is this my first time owning a home, this is my first experience with unemployment, and the first time the whole country is in despair. I can't risk damaging my credit, because thanks to an unethical mortgage deal, I will have to have my house paid for, or refinanced in three years. This may sound pessimistic, but I am simply being realistic... I'll have to refinance.

So here I sit, knowing the mail has just arrived, and I don't want to see what is inside the box. I tried to locate a name for "fear of mail" but apparently no one thinks that is a legitimate phobia. I located articles about fear of mail due to anthrax, but nothing about fear of mail because mail brings bills and economic collapse makes paying bills impossible. Yesterday, I received my car insurance statement, which added another $100 to the monstrous pile of bills I already can't pay by the 4th of February.

I've fallen off the gratitude bus, and find myself in the land of discouragement. Just being honest. This is pissing me off! My graduation money is gone... all to bills. I have no savings. That went to bills too. I'm cutting out everything I can... and it still isn't enough. Businesses are closing everyday... adding thousands more to the unemployment plight. So needless to say, finding a job grows ever more impossible every moment. I have been trying to research starting a business, and one of the first articles I found leads me to believe that to manage property here, I have to have a broker's license. To have a broker's license, you have to have been a full-time real estate agent for three years. I DON'T HAVE THREE YEARS! I have no clue where or how to find the answers I need for free. I can't afford to breathe right now, let alone seek legal advice.

Right now I feel like I'm wandering aimlessly... wasting time. Wasting life. (Cue the music to Margaritaville...) Wasting the days away in Unemploymentville. Searching for my, lost sliver of hope. Some people say that there's an economy to blame... but I know...it's my own damn fault?

What I Learned About Michigan Today...

Considering the old saying "no news is good news," and the fact that I can't really stand to know the true magnitude of economic failure in Michigan... I try not to devote too much time and attention to the local news. It's like knowing there was a terrible car crash, but looking the other way.

But, as I was minding my own mindless business, playing a game of Scrabble against "FlakieFreda57," some local news factoids snuck into my ears and banged on the drums. Here is what I learned about Michigan today:

8,ooo... EIGHT THOUSAND people applied for jobs at the soon-to-be casino, just today; crashing the site temporarily.

1 out of 10 people in Michigan is out of work. (Scrabble anyone?)

According to our genius Governor Granholm, the computer system that maintains unemployment benefits is "so old they don't even make parts for it anymore." Huh. Sounds like you were really on the ball there! Don't tell me no one saw THIS coming. Shit, Jen, next time call me... I've got all day to tell you what isn't working!

Michigan spends more money on prisons than it does on universities, and Michigan non-violent criminals do 127% more time for similar crimes in other states. That's just disgusting...

Almost 30,000 at-risk Michigan youth are not in school, and do not have a job.

Do you think if I call A&E, that they will get Michigan on the show "Intervention?" I'll be damned if it isn't time for one! No wonder everyone keeps encouraging me to get the hell out of here! And... no wonder no one wants to bring their company here to create those desperately needed jobs. If A&E won't take us, maybe Dr. Phil will. Cause it's time to GET REAL!

Thrifty Thursday!

Despite a shocking sit-down with $790 worth of bills that are due by the fourth of February, and knowing I only have $485 coming in, I'm feeling a little triumphant over this economic battle I'm facing. My first "score" occurred at Walgreen's, while mother was picking up her medication. I needed to pick up some hair color, since getting my hair done was immediately cut out of the budget in April. I was hesitant to buy because I didn't have a coupon with me... but low and behold, it was on clearance! Instead of paying $15.99 one box of my standby Revlon Colorist 40 Dark Brown, I got three boxes for $20.70! That oughta cover my few (but pesty) grays for the next six months! What a bargain!

My next big win was a very thrifty, and very tasty sandwich for supper. I had one small barbequed chicken breast left over from Sunday night. I hate wasting food, and now, I can't afford to. So what to do with this little chicken breast? Make a sandwich! I found one Kaiser roll at the back of the second shelf of my very empty refrigerator that remained from my December 13th graduation party, and a slice of provolone cheese. I cut up the barbequed chicken breast, cut a slice from the onion from God-knows-when, and topped it with the provolone cheese. Zapped that little snack of a sandwich for 45 seconds... and mmmm was it good! Think of pulled pork, only more like pulled poor.

Thrifty thrill number three: (WARNING: Serious coffee drinkers might find this offensive!) pouring my 12 hour old and lukewarm coffee onto my left over ice cubes from my water for an unplanned "iced coffee" treat.

Struggling through this tumultuous economy, isn't that fun. I won't lie! But, with a little creative thinking, and adding an "I will survive" type attitude, you can do it! My only real bitch right now is that I don't have any more stamps to send out Thank-You cards in a timely fashion. I don't have enough cards, but, if I am going to claim to be an artsy gal, I've got to be happy, and comfortable making my own. It's springing for stamps that is stinging my ass. Gratitude is very important to who I am, and who I want to be, so they must be sent... just perhaps a little later than "Miss Etiquette" would like.

The Cancerous Silence

Well... today's plan was to finish up the details at the remodel in the morning, and then head off for some ceramics studio time at 1 p.m. But as I was inbetween snooze alarms, I received a phone call from my mother... It's her day off, and she is not an early riser, so I was immediately concerned.

Apparently mother needed me to drive her to a doctor's appointment. Considering she rarely shares any personal or medical information with me, and I've been on her case to go, I was surprised, and even more concerned, that she felt she needed a driver. I asked her what was wrong.

"I have a headache." She replied.

Cut the crap, mom. She's a registered nurse. She wouldn't go to a doctor for a headache, but I wouldn't cross the invisible line she has drawn and ask her what was really going on. Another terrible dynamic in our mother/daughter relationship. For years, I have allowed her to keep everyone at arm's length... and that has to stop. My mom is theoretically young: 61. But, she has a terrible diet of Pepsi and fast food, she's overweight, and has a nearly lifelong history of high blood pressure. And...

She's had cancer.

I think any child of a cancer-stricken -and- survived parent lives with a nagging fear that it will come back. Every sniffle, every "headache," takes you back there. Back to the days when you cry when no one is looking, wondering how you could really make it through the "what if" that no one wants to talk about.

When my mom had cancer, I was in my early twenties. Just starting to figure out that bad shit happens, and that some times life isn't that fun. I used to say that if anything ever happened to my mom I'd be committed to a "loony bin." And I wasn't far off...

I couldn't share my fears with my mother; she had her own. I couldn't share them with family; she swore me to secrecy. I coudn't share them with my friends; that would be a burden, wouldn't it? So I carried this truly cancerous silence with me, and it ate away at my sanity; my soul.

At one point, I recall considering getting "knocked up" so that my mom could have a grandchild before, well, before you know. I think even God wouldn't have chosen that permanent bond between myself and my "boyfriend" at that time, so he secretly shut down the egg factory. I just knew that there were things that my mom must have wanted before she, you know, and I didn't want her to miss out on a thing.

So... since I didn't get pregnant, I got drunk. A lot. And by myself. I would go through my daily routine with a painted on smile, with my head held high, as if nothing were wrong... as if I had not a care in the world. My denial was scheduled. I was in denial daily, between the hours of 7 a.m. to 11 p.m. It was only during those late hours that I engaged in an internal battle of acknowlegment and fear. I found myself going to the bar alone, occassionally telling a stranger about my nagging fears, but never, never crying. I saved the crying for home. Part of me wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, but the other part sought solace in pretending it wasn't happening. I never felt so alone, and if she, you know, I would have been even more alone.

Thankfully, mother pulled through, and so did I. But, she still has health issues that worry me. Today, the doctor told her that her blood pressure had become very high and that she has to take a medication immediately, and return tomorrow morning. That's not good. She could have a stroke... a heart attack. She could need to be hospitalized. And what she really needs to do, is get real about her life, and her health, and I need to get real with her, and tell her that if she won't do it for herself, that she should at least do it for me.

I grew up in a strange sort of silence. Love that was implied, but never spoken. Knowing my father existed, somewhere, but not daring to ask. Carrying my own fears, and questions, but never finding the courage to express them in words. Fearing that I would lose my mom, before she really understood what she meant, and means, to me.

Maybe this is her first step. Her first step towards acknowledging that at some point in our lives, the roles of child and parent become somewhat reversed, and that we, the children, are capable and willing to be caregivers. Her first step towards knowing that after a lifetime of sacrifice, she has earned the right to "interrupt my day." Perhaps the lines of communication, real communication, are being connected. Maybe on a trial basis, but alas, connected.

Riding the Tide

I've been busy! Not busy for most, but busy for me!

These waves of activity and inactivity are very confusing to the mind and body. I may go an entire week without an appointment, and Monday I had three in a row. Things get going in one direction, and then life determines I must change course. I used to be rather opposed to monotony... but now I feel it would be welcome! Can I get a little consistency over here?

Tomorrow morning will be my last day on the remodel. I stopped there today to put a coat of paint on the cabinet framing. To my surprise, the guys had finished most of what was left to be done. So tomorrow, I'll just be touching up the cabinets and tearing down the tape. It is hard to believe that this project will finally be done...

Now what?

Next week, I have an appointment with a woman about volunteering with the Substance Abuse Council, and I also meet with the college to begin mapping out my coursework. From what I understand, I won't be able to begin taking classes any earlier than May, and possibly later than that. Waiting for the red tape of my life to be cut has become quite trying. I'm over it! Time's a wastin' folks! Hopefully, I'll have something to plan for, something to look forward to... soon!

My first day back at ceramics was incredible! There were 5 familiar, friendly and welcoming faces... and mutual "glad to see ya"s! This will be my first time going in with a plan. I'm making a number of plates with the intent of having inventory to sell at the Spring Art Walk. I formed and prepped two to dry and got started on a third. Because I have no job... I will be able to go to the additional 2 hours of open studio on Thursdays. At this pace, I could easily make a dozen plates before the end of the term. If I sell them for $20, I'll make the cost of the "class" back, and have some profit for myself. Pricing them higher is an option, but, the local market wouldn't bear much more. Regardless of my future success, or lack of, it was sure nice to back "playin' in the dirt."

My visit with the decade-long ex was interesting. We had casual conversation, funny conversation... and serious conversation. We tied up a few loose ends from the past, answered a few unanswered questions, and vowed to always be friends.

As I navigate these uncertain waters... I have to remind myself to be grateful that I am still afloat and willing to sail. Things don't always happen according to our own schedules, or desires... I just want to know when I can finally take off this scratchy orange life jacket!

Inaugurated...and it feels so good

I may risk being called anti-American...

or, getting shot...

But as I sit here and watch the inauguration, I can't help but feel as though this is the first president we have had (in my lifetime) that I actually believe in. Sure we've had a few good ones while I've been alive, but I was either literally too young to understand the magnitude of that role, or, just honestly, too immature.

I don't care who knows this... I voted for Barack Obama.

I've voted before, but for some reason, this time it felt like my vote really did count! Maybe this is the first election that truly mattered to me. Maybe it's the first time that I've realized that I, and this country, NEED change. It's not about wanting anymore... it's about necessity. It's about putting an end to all of the destructive bullshit that has been swept under the rug for so many years, that the country's foundation is literally crumbling under the weight of it. It's about people remembering what life is really about, and that it has nothing to do with SUV's and guns. It's about letting go of whatever has wronged us in the past, and committing to being a part of the solution, not the problem. It is about knowing that we literally cannot afford to continue leading selfish lives, but we have always been able-bodied enough to make our own ways, and help our neighbors. It's a reminider that we do have enough time to be kind to a stranger... that every single human being has the power to make this world a better place.

Miracle on Poorgirl St.

I spent eight straight hours painting at the remodel, and I am literally exhausted! Only half of the crabby newly-non-smoking team showed up today... at 2:30 in the afternoon, but I managed to get along without them just fine. The property owner showed up around 3:00 p.m. and got her first walk-through of the almost completed project. The first thing she said was, "I hope Todd didn't give you the impression that I was upset. I felt bad and kept saying to myself, 'I should have just said thank you." I assured her that I wasn't bothered by anything and that all was fine.

While she was at the unit, she and I discussed future plans. She has a couple friends with over 100 rental properties in the area that need help with property management. One of which asked for my card. I don't have an official card. I explained that I have to get a few things in order before I go forward with my own business, but she felt my plans were solid and that I would have plenty of business from her contacts alone. When I told her of my plans to pursue the paralegal training, her eyes widened and she said, "Monaaaa... that's exactly what these people need!"

Great!

Once I got home, I grabbed the mail from the box. The first item I opened was from the hospital. Due to my unemployed, and poverty level status, I, for the first time, explored options to receive assistance with my $800 hospital bill from last June. Someone had fudged my paperwork and I had to fax in proof of my current income, however, I hadn't heard back from the office for over one month. Well... today I got the great news that they have covered 100% of my bill. Hallelujah! Thank you, Jesus. No, really! What a blessing!

Asking for, or actually needing help, is still very new to me, but I've come to realize that we all need help sometimes, and if I don't reach out for it, I'm going to implode in a fashion that is similar to the entire country's economic collapse! Instead of feeling guilty, or undeserving, this time I felt a pay-it-forward what-comes-around-goes-around kind of goodness. I felt that the multitude of good deeds I had done over my lifetime, the volunteering and fundraising, and just plain compassion for others, had finally come back to me. My sense of hope was reaffirmed, and my heart: warmed.

The Great Salsa Incident

Today was probably the most challenging day I have had this year. It started out with the two quit smoking crabby-appletons complaining all the way through the work day. Followed by a phone call to give me a "heads up" that the owner is flipping out about their labor bill and will be on site tomorrow.

Knowing Todd, he presented the situation in a negative light. He's a great guy, but I'm thinking that he loves the drama. Likes to be the hero. And... he's rather co-dependent. He called her... which wasn't necessary, if you ask me. The right way to deal with that, is to let the client see the transformation, and then present the bill. Her entire rental unit has been remodelled. It's already rented. The value of it has been increased; and it looks amazing. Focus on the positives, boys.

Anyway...

I ate a discounted day old bakery honey wheat bagel with whipped cream cheese that had exceeded it's "best by" date for dinner. The bagel wasn't pre-sliced. As I was slicing my bagel I remembered some big stink being made about the number of people who cut their hands while slicing bagels. It wasn't the hardest thing I've ever done, but it did require a little patience. So, as I was cutting it, I was trying to determine if the 40% off sticker price was worth the risk of losing a finger, or severing a major artery. For me, the difference of sliced, versus unsliced, did not outweigh the savings. But, if I were a pressed-for-time-soccer-mom-of-four; I'd probably go for the more expensive already-sliced, risk free bagels. When it comes to saving money, you have to consider more than the pricetag. A trip to the emergency room for a bleeding and begrudged bagel-cutter costs a lot more than buying sliced bagels.

After an unexpected nap, perhaps induced by my possibly poisonous cream cheese, I hopped online for a few games of Scrabble. I've been playing against a friend of mine from Chicago who is also hiding from the cold. Our local news said that the temperature in Chicago today was colder than it was in North Pole, Alaska!

Mid-game, we both decided that it was time to grab a snack. I decided on chips and salsa. Seemed a good choice considering I have two Ziploc bags of chips, and salsa is always tasty. I sat down in bed... began crunching on my first chip... and... spilled salsa! Somehow, a small amount of salsa managed to splatter on my floor, bed skirt, new flannel sheets, and over sized down- alternative, doesn't-really-fit-in-my-washing-machine comforter. Shit!

My Scrabble pal allowed me to cease worrying about the turn timer and tend to my great salsa incident. I decided to take the sheets and bed skirt off first, since they were mainly white and I wanted them to stay that way. After sticking the sheets and bed skirt into the washing machine, I tended to the comforter. My washing machine was already occupied with the other linen victims of my bedroom snacking, so I had to rinse off the salsa from my comforter... in the shower! It's also THE coldest night we have had this winter... so I had to not only remake the bed with another set of flannel sheets, I had to dig out another blanket from the back of the linen closet.

Believing my great salsa incident had been handled, I sat back down in my less cozy bed to return to my Scrabble game. As I reached for another chip, I noticed that I had salsa on my sweatshirt too! UGH! Thankfully, my online Scrabble opponent was very patient as I stripped myself of my soiled sweatshirt and reached for a clean one.

What?! I have no more clean sweatshirts! When does my eating-in-bed punishment end?! It's cold as could be and I am down one down comforter, and the shelter of a sweatshirt.

And, again, I'm up past my now non-existent bedtime, in the midst of a salsa-induced laundry marathon. I'll have to find a way to sleep without the extra warmth of my sweatshirt and comforter, as well as without the comfort of knowing the property owner will be seeing the remodel with a positive mindset.

I'm IN

What a great day!

The boys have been hard at work, yesterday and today. All tile is up, and the grouting has begun. The only painting I have left to do is in the bathroom and kitchen. The light at the end of the tunnel is on... and boy is this place looking great!

Mid work day, I received the call I had hoped for from the art center! The instructor personally called to tell me he approved my participation in the ceramics workshop. He's an absolutely wonderful man in his mid-seventies. Very talented and inspiring. Somehow I snow-blowed everyone into thinking I have some artistic gift in cermics... so they allow me to play with the big guns.

This workshop costs money, of course, and I'm using some of my graduation money on it. I may mass produce some plates and recoup my expenses at a future art event. What matters most to me, however, is getting back in there and playing in the dirt. Taking that class was the first major step I took two years ago towards reclaiming my inner artist. A step that brought me that much closer to happiness I hadn't felt in years.

So Monday's agenda is now full. I'm treating myself to a much-needed haircut (it's been 16 weeks!) at noon, ceramics class at one, and whatever with Andy and a time to be determined. Not wanting to have any unfinished business come Monday... I'll be picking up the pace at the remodel.

I'm IN!

The Blast and the Past

Seems these arctic blasts have stirred up ol' Mona's past...

Sometime around midnight (great song, by the way), I got a call from Kimmee. I hadn't heard from her since right before she lost her home here to foreclosure. She was having a very difficult time financially, and personally. Not hearing from her was a concern to me, but her number was disconnected and I had no way of discovering her fate. Turns out she has moved to a nearby state, is still with her husband, and is doing quite well! We may be getting together Saturday if she comes to town. While I was on the phone with her... I had been clicking through photos of C.F. for no explainable reason.

An hour and a half later... I receive a text... from an ex decade-long on-again-off-again boyfriend. "I'm at your favorite place." He wrote.

"Where is that?" I replied.

I was just about to fall asleep, so it took me a moment to realize what he meant. He was here. It's his birthday. Huh.

"Come on, no guesses?" He inquired.

I sent a flirtatious reply, that's what we do. And because I detest texting, I decided to call him. We hadn't spoken since Thanksgiving of '07. At that time he had said he was considering moving back to be closer to his family, but I didn't take him seriously. After he ditched me for an "unplanned" evening with his family, I wrote him off as permanently irresponsible and non-committal.

It seems his father had to be hospitalized this year around Thanksgiving. He and I had always maintained a friendship, so I had broken the ice, not knowing his situation, and left a message on Thanksgiving day.

"Hey you. Are we still fighting? It's been a year... hope you have a very happy Thanksgiving."

I hadn't heard back from him, and had honestly forgotten that I called. During our conversation tonight, he said he didn't know what "my deal" was, but that he'd like to get together on Monday. He also asked about my new boyfriend. Apparently, his friend John had told him that he saw me at a music store with my new boyfriend and I bought a guitar. Well, the guy I was with is just a great friend, and the guitars I have are borrowed... he was glad to know John had embellished.

Monday... I'll be seeing him on Monday. He has moved back to the state, and is living 30 minutes away. At one point, unknown to him, I called him my husband. I used to think he was "the one." But then I was growing up, and he was staying the same, and I grew tired of the lack of direction he, and our relationship had. When he came to visit, I remembered feeling over it. Over the belief that we had a future, over the attraction, over the waiting for something to change.

But, this will be the first time in ten years that we have lived in the same state. Will it be different? Is he different?

Truth is, right now it doesn't matter. He will always be someone I consider a friend. Our "bad times" weren't really bad, they were just miles on a map that got in the way. My mind is open, I'm not sure if my heart is... but, certainly we can see each other. And, I adore his parents, so if his father is in ill health, a visit is in order.

How strange that I have heard from two estranged people in the same night, and I'll be seeing both of them within the same week! And how strange it is for me to be up at this hour! I thought I was working on becoming a "normal" person...

Goodnight!

My Cup of Tea

I'm content on my couch, sipping a cup of Irish Breakfast Tea. Reflecting on a day of relaxation and contemplative thoughts.



Enduring the economic crisis, without a job, and at times, without hope, for nine months, has been a powerful experience. And although I don't desire to remain in this state of uncertainty, I can strongly say that surviving this has taught me many valuable lessons, and reaffirmed new discoveries of, and about myself.



This is what I know: Corporate America is not my cup of tea. I realize that there are some good companies out there somewhere, but my personal experiences left me disenchanted. Poor decisions driven by profit alone, disregard for humanity... again solely for profit, hypocrisy... I saw this at all levels. This greed-driven business mindset is exactly what has left many of these very victimized workers out in the cold. Jobless. Hopeless.



I'm no Mother Teresa, but I do believe that people who are treated with respect and kindness work harder. Pride in the environment within which most of us spend some 2,000 hours a year, makes for a happier life. I've lived the unhappy one, in the throes of Corporate America, and now I'm ready to risk the falsified security of working in Corporate America, for a life I can truly call my own.



Some of my lifestyle downsizing was forced upon me, however, I had been heading in the direction of a simpler life for two years. I was never one who valued material things in excess, but I did enjoy many a carefree year in my youth. Buying outfits for events an hour before they occurred, driving new cars, going out, thinking little of throwing something on a charge card... I did it. Changing these irresponsible, and mindless ways, wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. And the rewards of controlling your finances, not being controlled by the lacking of them... amazing!



I pulled myself out of financial ruin, cleaned up my credit and bought a house. Everything was finally going my way...



But was it?



Soon after, I found myself without a job for the first time in 22 years. Well, if you count my paper routes, it was actually 27 years. Fear of losing all that I had worked so hard for began to consume me. Once again, I felt I was controlled by Corporate America. I had to rely on their stability to be able to provide jobs. I had to rely on their wish to employ me. I had to rely on the paycheck to maintain my current life.



Or did I?



Thankfully, I have managed to survive on less than $1,000 a month. I have proven to myself, that I can make it. This experience has not only given me strength, it has provided me with a bottom floor. My current income is my bottom floor. It would be virtually impossible to make less... I could work part time for $8 an hour and still maintain the roof over my head.



My point to be made here, is that I am in a position to take that risk, and pursue my own career. Of course I know it won't be easy, but I doubt that it could get any harder than it has been! Why spend my time searching for jobs that don't exist, or that are about to disappear? Do I really want to ignore all of my personal growth and just fall back into a life that holds little meaning?

No!

My focus will now be on my new found strength, and developing courage... It's time to believe in myself, and stay true to who I am. To cease making accommodations and excuses... It's time.

I know I've been telling you this tale for some time, and I risk boring you of it. But, I've got to continue to process these thoughts. Express them. Make them real. Putting your thoughts on "paper" requires action, and so does personal success.

Knowing is half the battle...

Frigid!

I'm frigid!

I suppose I'm being punished for making fun of the news being, what I felt, overly dramatic about the bone-chilling temperatures Canada has blessed us with. Being a midwesterner my entire life, cold is cold is cold. But DAMN it's cold!

Surely Canada could have sent us universal health care, but instead we are enduring a "blast" of arctic temperatures. Highs will be in single digits, and wind chills will be in negative double digits. Crews are out searching for homeless people and neglected animals in an attempt to prevent fatal suffering.

Almost personally falling victim to the cold, I found myself "locked" out of the rental... outside in a t-shirt and jeans. I had gone next door to leave a note for the tenant. Todd wasn't going to be there today to fix his leak, despite his committing to do so last night, and I wasn't thrilled. When I returned to the back door of the rental I'm working on, I couldn't get the door to open! This wasn't the first time the door had "locked" itself, but it was the first time that it had done so when I could have frozen to death. That door, in my opinion, needs to be replaced. Not only is it ugly and old... it doesn't work properly!

Finding myself angered for the first time this year, I decided I didn't give a shit about what destruction of the door was necessary to save my life. Okay. So now I'm being a little dramatic. But, I was pissed, and my fingers were bright red from the cold. I could push one corner of the bottom storm window in, but wasn't getting it to open far enough to get my finger in close enough to move the handle from the inside. See! That even sounds complicated.

An icy gust of wind blew right through me.

I kicked the window.

I said "damn't!"

The window didn't break.

I was beginning to have second thoughts about destroying the door. This meant I'd have to count on Todd for yet another thing, fixing the door, and his lack of follow through is what had gotten me into this frigid situation in the first place. I had run through the snow to the front door, hoping I had forgotten to lock it. Locked. I ran back and began frantically pulling on the door. My ears were red and hot, my nose dripping... this was getting serious.

My last attempt to turn the handle by pressing the storm window in at the corner finally worked. I might have been freezing on the outside, but I was HOT on the inside. Disgruntled. Pissed. My perfect, puffy cloud and rainbow filled New Year had seen its first moments of "darkness." I packed up and shipped out.

Waiting for me at my front door was a Chicago style pizza, shipped from Chicago. A genuine, authentic, pizza treat, just for me! As soon as I made it inside my own door, I turned on the oven. My minor episode of MADness disappeared in the wake of my pizza pleasure.

Both my kitchen and bathroom faucets sputtered when I turned them on. I've kept the heat at 58 degrees all winter, unless I am having company. Can't freeze your friends! Anyway, in fear of frozen pipes, I "cranked" the heat up to a balmy 62 for the night. I've got wool socks, sweats, a tank top, long sleeve t-shirt, and hooded sweatshirt on and I'm under two throw blankets. I'm fairly warm, but my uncovered skin detects the severity of the cold.

I'm going to put my hood up, and try to catch a 20 minute nap. Then my Tuesday T.V. marathon begins: American Idol, Law and Order, followed by Nip/Tuck. I'm not sure I'll stay awake long enough for all three...

Good Deed #6- Above the Call of Duty

Before I was leaving the remodel, the new tenant pulled into the garage. I made a point to ask him how things were going in his new place. He was just getting home from work and had to move in during near blizzard conditions. A little frazzled he looked.

Apparently there is some type of leak in the bathroom and he can't get adequate water pressure in the kitchen.

"Do I call Barb for that? Is that who I talk to?" he asked.

Barb is the neighbor of the rental property, and a friend of the owner. Normally, she might handle that sort of thing, but since I was there, I decided to take care of it myself. I called Todd, made sure he was going to be on-site tomorrow, and let the tenant know we'd have it fixed.

Little did I know that the property owner is having the "week from hell." She found out today that she won't have a job next year. Her position is being cut from the budget. However, they are having her run the entire building alone this week, which could mean she's going to get a promotion. Hopefully, the latter is the truth. Regardless, she was very grateful that I handled a potential problem for her.

Twas the right thing to do... I say!

All is Quiet...

All is quiet on the remodel front. After a late start, including an immediate return home to retrieve the keys so I could get in, I managed to get within one wall of completing the painting in the living and dining areas. Previous water damage on an exterior wall made scraping and spackling necessary, and therefore, painting the remaining wall delayed.

My old boss stopped by to take a look at my "project." He was very impressed with what I was doing. Positive reinforcement is a very powerful thing! Approval fuels my confidence level, and motivates me to pursue this "career" further.

My tile guy didn't show today. He is in his first 24 hours of non-smoking. I've got to say that I am a little apprehensive working with him this early in the "I quit smoking" game. Rumor has it that people get pretty moody while their bodies recover from nicotine addiction. My secret plan is to find work to complete as far away from him as possible, until I'm confident that my head will not be bitten off!

My goal for completion is this weekend. As long as I get my smoke-free tile guy to get moving on the kitchen, this should be an attainable goal. All that remains for me is painting the bathroom and kitchen, touching up the trim, and reassembling the upstairs built-in. It's coming together! Slowly, but surely.

Personally, all is quiet as well. I'm quite comfortable with my remodel project, sleeping better, and feeling like my life once again has a purpose. I'm not dating, and I don't really wish to be. I have not sworn myself into the convent, just a little hyper-focused on my immediate goals. On the 26th I'll be signing on to volunteer with the Substance Abuse Council, and on the 28th, I'll be meeting with the necessary people to get my educational pursuits going. Once my future plans are ironed out, I'll consider getting back on the dating scene. Until then, I'll be enjoying my newly found peace and quiet.

G-Forced into Lazyland

WARNING: Do not come to my house!

A strange and immensely powerful gravitational force has overtaken my house, leaving me perhaps permanently pinned to the sofa. I've managed to break free only to have a grapefruit for breakfast, leftover spaghetti for lunch, and plug in my laptop.

Beautiful, fluffy snowflakes have piled up some two feet, and there are icicles hanging like a valance outside my living room window. I've decided the snow, and this "mystery force" will be my excuses to do nothing today!

Although I did stay home yesterday, I accomplished quite a bit of my own home maintenance. I believe I did five loads of laundry! My house is tidy once again... and the view of it from my couch is breathtaking.

One of my old bosses stopped by last night. He has had to come to town to assist his father and transition him into a nursing home. We shared quite a few laughs about the good ol' days, and he offered a little enthusiasm towards my potential new career.

Speaking of my "potential new career," I'll be back at the remodel tomorrow. I had hoped to start ceramics this week, but the class is currently full. If I were to push the issue, I'm sure the instructor would let me in, and perhaps he will anyway. The class is Monday afternoons from 1:00-3:30, hardly interfering with a productive work week, and providing me with a coveted creative outlet.

As I lay here in Lazyland, I find great comfort in my nothingness; for it is a chosen nothingness. A little rest and relaxation much deserved. I'm currently watching "The Queen" on the USA network, and will be watching Desperate Housewives later on tonight. All I have to "worry" about is staying awake long enough to watch.

Good Deed #5- Compassion for Strangers

"Sharon" was one of the three people who came by last night to see the rental unit. She had arrived early, and was very apologetic for doing so. During her showing, Sharon disclosed that she is moving to an apartment due to a pending separation/divorce from her husband of 28 years.

Sharon is rightfully concerned, and somewhat afraid of what the future holds. She hasn't lived alone in over two decades, her family is unaware of her pending decision, and she has not a single possession to call her own. A quiet despair can be seen in her light green eyes.

She has no clue where to begin...

I have been through difficult times, alone, and with support. The difficult times with the support of friends and family have always been easier to bear. Because Sharon is enduring this transition in secrecy, she is alone.

I decided to offer her not only a kind ear, but reassurance that we would help her with whatever she may need. We will help her move, select and find furniture, introduce her to her neighbors, and walk her through every step she's about to take.

Regardless of whether or not the owner selects her as a tenant, I'm going to make a point to make good on my offers. She has enough to deal with, and if a little kindness and compassion provides her with a little comfort, I think her outlook on the future will be a more positive one.

First 9 of '09

The first nine days of my New Year have come and gone without a glich. Nine good hours seems miraculous to me, compared to the last eight months of '08, so to be blessed with nine days of plain ol' good things brings me a serene joy that I am very thankful for.

I worked on the remodel alone today. I have finished painting the walls upstairs and am now transforming the main floor. The verdict on the paint color and tile is unanimous. "Love it," all declare. The previous "color scheme" was eggshell and bright white. The lack of contrast between the two left the rental looking cold and dingy, allowing the unique character and charm to become lost in its blankness. The new color "pops" the white trim and wood floors, while providing a warm backdrop for the mahogany crown molding on the lower level. Below is a brief description of the photos in the order they appear:

1. Staircase- the left half of the photo shows a view of the staircase against the new paint color, the right provides a new vs. old perspective. (The blue line is painter's tape.)

2. Dining area- this photo is entirely "before." The walls are eggshell, and the trim bright white. The hardware on the door is covered in paint.

3. Doorknob and plate- this photo is an up close "after" of the doorknob and plates. If you refer to the previous post with photographs, you can see the difference this attention to detail makes. The plates were dusted with a light coat of Rustoleum "Dark Bronze" spraypaint to cover splatters of wall paint from a previous, and very careless paint job. The knobs were placed in the magical crockpot to allow paint splatters to be easily wiped away and return the knobs to an "old yet new" glory.

4. Hallway Built-in- this photograph shows the hallway built-in that provides storage convenient to the bedrooms and bathroom. This feature was easily overlooked when the nearly identical shades of white were competing. The hardware was removed and given the crockpot treatment to remove an unthinkable number of layers of paint. Right now, the built-in serves well as a desk/tool/coffee mug holder, but will be refurbished with paint and hardware. By the way, that's one of my coveted MiGo coffee mugs I spoke of. It is now the LAST one I have. What's the lesson? Never count on a man being respectable enough to return your fancy thermal coffee mugs. Give him styrofoam and show him the door. (wink)

5. Upstairs hallway- this somewhat blurry photo is of the hallway outside of the bathroom door. You can barely sneak a peek of the new bathroom tile. Featured is my perch for the last five days... a paint-covered ladder.

So that's your inside view to my salvation. Working on this beautiful old apartment has allowed me to have a creative outlet, and given me a legitimate reason to be tired. Instead of last year's curse of "chronic napping*," I feel awake when I wake up, and tired when I go to bed. I'm almost normal again. I suspected all I needed to straighten things up was a sense of purpose and some sort of work schedule, and so far, this suspicion has proven to be true.

I collected two holding deposits today, both from very nice women. It is now up the property owner and application analysis to decide who actually gets the place. I was impressed with both potential tenants, and would personally have a tough time deciding. The verdict is expected Monday at 5:00 p.m.

I'll be forgoing a day off this weekend. My own house has become a bit of a mess while I've been sprucing up this rental. I now have clean and dirty piles of laundry, a behavior not normally condoned or practiced. But, it's a small, temporary sacrifice for the rewards of working hard and personally transforming an "oldie but a goodie" of a place.

Refurbishing Hardware

Just wanted to pass along a little trick I learned:

If you need to, or wish to refurbish paint covered hardware, simply place it in a crockpot full of water on the high setting for a few hours. Once the water has reached a boiling level, turn off the crockpot and safely remove the hardware with tongs. Gently rub off the paint using a steel wool pad.

This method is much more cost-effective, environmentally friendly and personally safe, compared to the use of corrosive chemicals. I've used both methods, and will now only use this one.

Lost? Found? Lost and found?

Today was yet another successful day for yours truly. While en route to the remodel, I had received a call from the property owner. She had three people coming to see the unit at 6p.m. At first, I was a little apprehensive to show a property that was almost completely disassembled, and littered with tools, paint, hardware and ladders; while I, myself, was littered with paint! If I had been in control of the situation, I would have allowed myself time to transform from Petunia Painter, into Paulina Professional Property Manager. I also would have liked to have had the showings scheduled 15 minutes apart to allow for a more personalized showing.

But... my previous management and sales skills made my paint-covered ponytail, over-booked showings, and construction-zone unit irrelevant! I've got one confirmed holding deposit coming tomorrow at 11 a.m., and possibly another. When I let the owner know how well things went, she was in complete disbelief that I was able to negotiate tenancy on the very first day. She loves me. And I love working for her... so there just isn't a way for this to go wrong!

The owner is now thinking forward and talking about buying more property. I think she's so excited that she'd buy the whole city if she could. Regardless of her intentions, working on this project is really steering me into the direction of building my own business. The economy is so terrible that I could spend the next year or more looking for work. Why not make a little?

I've got the know-how. I have enough before/after photos to create a portfolio. I have references from former clients. I've been in management of some form or another for 18 years. I have experience managing people, clients, inventory, payroll, and general operations. I'm self-motivated, and easy to work with, as well as for. Several of my friends are in construction, masonry, and landscaping... if they don't work directly for me, we could at least have a mutual referral relationship. I am struggling to find reasons not to pursue this...

I'd have to form an L.L.C., which would cost me a little chunk of money, but other than that, I can't think of much preventing me from moving forward. I had created business cards and a brochure in the past, so after just a few updates, I'd have those bases covered. Getting the word out and finding clients would take a little pavement pounding, but again, I have enough connections that I think I would be able to drum up enough business to squeek by on the bills. I have an office in my house... this might be the answer!

If I work for myself, I would be able to control my schedule, and allow for attending classes for Human Services, although, if I go into business for myself, I will likely pursue the Paralegal training. That would provide me with legal knowledge to protect my business, and a back-up career...

Looks like I have some things to think about.

Rambling Grapefruit Diet Job Hunting

The New Year always brings an onslaught of diet and fitness information, as most of us become suddenly aware of a bulge here, and a jiggle there. Being a bit rebellious to any behaviors done en mass (musicals give me the creeps!), I've always followed my own haphazard diet and fitness plans.

But, now I am unofficially on a grapefruit diet.

Actually, my mother just happened to leave me a big bag of grapefruits and I can't afford groceries. So, I'll be eating grapefruits daily. If I suddendly become slimmer and trimmer and get offered to do the cover of a fitness magazine, hey, I won't complain.

I had forgotten how much I love the smell of grapefruit. How fun it is to cut out the little triangles before you enjoy the sugar-sprinkled slices. It left me wondering why I don't enjoy them more often.

I'm "slacking" today. The two guys that are doing work on the rental with me are off on another job. This puts some of my work on hold. However, I think I will be able to reassemble the front room, and finally have something on the "completed" list. I'll be heading over there as soon as I get done rambling here.

The rash on the back of my neck had me miserably scratching in my sleep. I was "blessed" with sensitive skin, so the cause of it could be as simple as my oversized, paint-covered T-shirt irritating my neck as I paint. Of course, I have no benadryl creams here, so I'll have to do my best to try and ignore its existence.

I thought it best to job search last night. I hadn't logged on to many job posting sites between Christmas and the New Year. There was actually quite a high number of postings, however, the majority of them were either for the U.S. Army, or physical therapy. It was, yet another, fruitless mission.

The news just reported that the number of people leaving the state had doubled last year and exceeded the number of people moving in. It will never cease to amaze me that somehow our state government made enough poor choices to make this beautiful state undesirable to live in. But, hey, I may soon have the entire state to myself! As much as I would love to have a house out in the mountainous wonder of Colorado, I can still appreciate all of the natural beauty good ol' Michigan has to offer. The only thing people seemed to be interested in, as of late, was our water. Our governor had to put protections in place to prevent our water from being "bootlegged." Have these people never enjoyed a summer of swimming, sailing, and water-skiing? Michigan provides such a beautiful backdrop for a lovely vacation... yet no one seems to want to visit. Are they afraid they won't be able to get back out? Afraid that they will be mugged by the thousands of struggling unemployed people?

My aunt and uncle suggested, again, that I consider moving out of state. My aunt "would hate to see (me) stuck here." Stuck? I don't view myself as stuck. Stubborn and determined, maybe. You see, I've never been driven by money. I realize this could, and probably has caused me problems, but it's just who I am. Sure there are 49 states that are doing much better than Michigan, but I can't justify moving away from my family and friends just for money. Besides, I don't have the money to travel to another state and stay in a hotel while I job hunt/interview. I don't have money to move or put a deposit on an apartment. Odds of finding someone to buy my house would surely be stacked against me, finding renters is even a challenge for property owners here. And, unless I would be able to guarantee that I would have enough money and time to travel home to see my family, there is no way I would consider moving.

I've simplified my life and spending enough to make supporting myself a pretty inexpensive task. Is my house my "dream home?" No. Is it out in the wilderness, tucked away from the shuffle of city life? No. But, it's mine, and it was a dream. I had gotten myself into such a financial mess in the past that I literally thought being 40-something and living in my mother's creepy spider-infested basement was all I had to look forward to. I've put my own personal touch on the walls and decor and made the most of some of the outdated features. I'm actually quite fond of my house, and letting it go; giving up; just doesn't sit well with me.

Will I stay here forever? Probably not. My semi-delusional vision foresees me finding the way to financial stability and seeking out my mountainous paradise. But that is then, and this is now.

For now, I must continuously remind myself to be grateful for what I do have, and find some sort of comfort in knowing that most people don't get where they are without a lot of hard work. I've always been a hard worker, but this is the first time I've worked hard for myself. Sure it frustrates me that I can't easily find a job, and worrying about the future has caused me a great bit of grief. But, I've proven to myself that I can survive, and most importantly, that I want to.

I spent 28 years of my life doing what other people thought I should. Once I began to figure out who I was and what I wanted, the "getting there" seemed impossible. And although I have yet to officially "make it," freeing myself from the pain and confusion of a life unfullfilled has provided me with a strength I never thought I'd have.

Being 37, unwed, childless, and unemployed, doesn't exactly define "accomplished" to most. But, reflecting on how misguided, misfortunate, and miserable I used to be... I've come a long way, baby! I've managed to cling to hope when there ought be none, and I have more of a drive to not only survive, but to eventually thrive, than I have ever had in my entire life.

Speaking of drive, I'd better drive my ass to the rental unit and get to work!

Spent

I'm spent. Spent like my unemployment check.

I didn't get much sleep last night, but managed to make it through another demanding day at the remodel. Being tired is something I'm used to, so I remained upbeat for the entire day, unlike the guys. Talk about a couple of grumps!

In their defense, a few things had "gone wrong" today. The backer board hadn't adhered properly because the wall is an exterior one, and was too cold. Poor quality spackle previously applied by someone else kept peeling off the walls while I was painting. We ran out of tile. So did the local Lowe's... so a 60 mile journey was required to pick up more tile in the neighboring city. And there was some big to-do with the bathroom sink, but I hid in the closet. Actually I was painting the closet, but I did intentionally avoid the situation. Sure, I got frustrated here and there, but I remedied the situation by belting out songs along with the easy listening station the radio was on.

"Even though we ain't got money, I'm so in love with ya honey..."

"Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away..."

Before I left, I had to clean off my car windows. We had gotten some snow, and there was a small layer of ice on them. I had lifted my windshield wipers to scrape under them, and apparently dismantled them! While approaching a stop light, I switched on the wipers to remove a chunk of snow that had slid down from the roof and into my field of vision. I was a little confused when I saw the thin little stump of a wiper go across my windshield. Only the arm was operating on the driver's side. The blade was being bounced around at the edge of my hood! So... once I got to the light, I got out of the car, used my broken blade like a squeegee on the windshield, and laid it on my dashboard.

Too tired to assess the damage, I simply grabbed my purse and went into the house when I got home. I sure hope nothing needs to be repaired. I only have $8 to last me until next week, and the weather here requires one to have functioning windshield wipers. Of course, the "fix-it" guys are going to be on another job the next couple of days. My luck. Oh well.

My knees hurt. My back hurts. I have a rash on the back of my neck, paint at the ends of my ponytail, and paint under my fingernails. I'm feeling all sorts of sexy right now. When I was in the shower (yes, I did shower), I was thinking how nice it would have been to have someone here to greet me when I got home. That same someone could have picked up the house, gotten dinner ready, fixed my windshield wiper, and given me a back rub. I then decided I need to start a "rent-a-husband" business.

Now, don't confuse this with a prostitution ring. There are plenty of women out there, like myself, that manage just fine without a man, but wouldn't mind the "perks" of companionship once or twice a month. Dating is exhausting. Ha! And I hardly do it! But it is! I feel like this is going terribly wrong...

What I'm trying to say, I suppose, is that I can see how one would benefit from cohabitation. However, I have no desire to even date, and I doubt the property owner would be cool with me putting the project on hold until I find someone to rub my feet when I get home, so I suppose I'll just have to deal with it.

Good Deed #4- Listening

My new remodel teammember, Bill, and I exchanged phone numbers today, along with a promise that we would help each other survive the economy by sharing jobs.

My phone rang shortly after I began cooking my lunch/dinner. It was Bill. Did we forget something on the job?

Nope.

Bill "needed someone to talk to." Apparently Bill's girlfriend has been a little aloof and he just wanted someone "who didn't know all of his business" to listen.

So I did.

I didn't quite figure out what the fuss was about, but Bill magically felt better after getting whatever it was off his chest. I've been there myself, wishing you had someone that would just listen; so I was happy to oblige. Sure, I had a lot of things I wanted and needed to do, but it was time for a good deed, and Bill seems like a deservingly good guy.

Another win-win.

High as a Kite!

It's very possible that I'm high on paint fumes right now, but I can't deny that some damn good things are happening in my life right now. Thank God! I've always managed to stumble, and sometimes fall, through whatever life throws at me... but I have to admit that I was becoming rather doubtful that I would make it. The anxiety of bills hanging over my head and no job in sight was really beginning to drive me mad. I was actually very close to seeking medical attention because my heart was beginning to do the flip-floppy thing again and my chest pains were returning. However, I hate pharmaceuticals, and am a firm believer that a balanced life is a healthy one. I'm glad I haven't been forced to take that route.

I have had the most beautiful day. Spent a solid 8 hours on the remodel site. I finished the second coat of paint on the front bedroom walls, spackled cracks and nail holes, took some doors down, removed hardware and spruced it up with some dark bronze spray paint, and began painting the second bedroom. It feels so good to work.

Cutting my health insurance out of the budget has been my great debate as of late. It's $94 a month, which in my current world is a LOT of money. Cancelling it would take a slight weight off of my shoulders, but I fear if I do, I'll find myself in need of it. The potential need of it became apparent today, when I thought it would be fun to almost fall off of the ladder while no one else was on the job site and my cell phone was across the room on a window sill. I was on the top rung and would have landed on a wood floor. "Maybe I should hang on to my health insurance a little longer," I thought.

Fast forward two hours. Yet another almost-but-not-quite fall from the ladder. Done. I'm keeping my health insurance. I get the message! What does that have to do with having a great day? I didn't fall!

My co-worker Todd's mom stopped by. She's got a great eye for design, and I respect her opinion. She loves the tile and paint colors that I picked out. Thank you, Jesus! She's a tough one to please, so if she likes it, it has to be great.

Next visitor... the old tenant. The unit was previously rented by an African American twenty-something single mom who is genuine, kind, and respectable with a teenage son that actually has manners! She said she saw my car and just had to see what I was doing. "It's beautiful!" she said. "I wish it looked like this when I lived here!"

"You could move back in!" I said with a smile. "I know she'd love to have you back."

Her son needed a little more room to roam and she wanted to have a yard. Otherwise, I'm sure she'd come right back! We chit-chatted for a minute and I asked her if she needed any help with her new place. She's going to get in touch with me to remodel her bathroom and refer me to her aunt!

"I'll be fair with the costs. I'd like to do this for you, I think you're great." I said.

"I think you're great. And I know your work." She kindly declared.

Wow. What a moment for me. You know how some people just have this air of goodness about them? Well this woman is one of those people. I just adore her, despite hardly knowing her. Of course I'm happy to know that someone else likes my work and may potentially employ me, but what makes me even more thrilled, is the thought of doing something nice for her, and maybe even becoming friends. You can never have enough kind people in your life!

After I got home, the work really began! I had to take a shower, find something to cook for my one and only hot meal of the day, catch up on my bills, check emails, wash my work clothes and my very smelly work shoes. I realize it's disgusting to think that a woman could have smelly shoes, but I'm just "keepin' it real" here folks. I've had this pair of tennis shoes for years, and rarely wore them. In fact, they only became my work shoes because I got an upgraded pair for a gift. I don't know what it is about these shoes, but they stink! I've peered inside (with my nose plugged) to see if there was a decomposing critter body in them... and found nothing. I would have just let them fester, but I got a few whiffs while I was painting, and I didn't enjoy them. Out of respect for other's and an attempt to hold onto my femininity... I gave them a good washin' too.

When I sat down at my cluttered desk in the office after my shower, I had to sift through a disastrous pile of papers. I was out of town for the holidays, and confess to being a touch lazy as well. This created quite a backlog of business and junk mail on my desk. In fact, I had even lost sight of my bank account balance. While telephoning into the automated banking system, and checking off which checks had cleared, I almost shit my pants! For a brief moment, I thought my account was going to be overdrawn by $170! Holy almost-shit! Thankfully, I was wrong, and after paying my car insurance, I have a whopping $8 to last me seven days. Sigh.

My lunch/dinner tonight was "Cheesy Chicken Enchilada" Hamburger Helper, minus the milk. I'm out. Well, I have some in my refrigerator, but it's a tad chunky, and I'm just going to trust that it smells too. Why is it still there? You ask. I have no frickin' clue. I never think about my disgusting jug of expired milk until I'm sitting on the couch, bundled up in throw blankets to keep warm. I'd get up right now to dump it, but I'd rather gross you out and tell you all about my smelly shoes and chunky milk. Alright. I'm getting up right now, I swear!

SICK! Have you ever stuck your hand in a bowl of cottage cheese? That's what it felt like when I had to reach into the garbage disposal to retrieve the plastic ring that fell off the jug, AFTER most of the putrid chunks plopped down into it. I feel violated.

Anyway...

Once I finished my duties, I sat down with the computer and checked my emails. I received an email asking me attend a January 26th meeting for volunteering with the local Substance Abuse Council. Perfect! I had planned on finding a volunteering gig. Receiving the email allowed me to get that started without even getting off my ass!

When I got onto my blog, while still on my ass, I saw that I had a comment on my last post. A comment?! I LOVE comments! When I read it, I was enthralled with the eloquence of it. Something about it seemed warmly familiar, although being anonymous, I have no way of knowing if my "gut" knew who it was. Regardless, it was a sweet message, and a nice little present to add to my already lovely day. So thank you, to whomever wrote it, and thank you also, to my other readers. Your support is a great gift to me. There were times when this crazy blog was all I had to hold onto! Thank you, readers, for adding more wonderful to my wonderful day!

(The pictures are from the place I'm working on... the "befores." I seriously can't wait to get back there tomorrow and coax that old place back into beautiful again.)

p.s. My spellcheck function isn't functioning again, so please kindly excuse any spelling errors!