don’t forget to play

I (very) recently got my first tattoo.  I remember in college when my friends starting getting them – I couldn’t decide what to get permanently stamped on my body.  Nothing stood out and I didn’t want to spend the money on something impersonal.  And so I waited; finding lots of good ideas but no real urgency or motivation.  Now that I’m older, there is less thought of permanence and less worry about practicalities.

In the throws of the past year, I have to deal with what I already knew; my life is too tied up in work.  In creating other peoples art, solving other peoples problems, sharing my limited knowledge with people who may not even ask or care.  Having an exempt position and several bosses somewhat paying attention – not to me, but making sure I am working, whether or not they pay attention to what – that I am working on and most certainly not giving me any tasks, just working until I miss something or drop the ball and then I’m not working enough.  I say to myself too often, “they don’t care” and I’m fairly certain I’m right.

I am, or have made myself, a workaholic.  With having little of an outside personal life, I have relied too much on work and co-workers for social engagement.  I’m trying to branch out.  At work I’ve resigned to a poker face (or bitch face, if you prefer) and I want to be a mystery because I’m pretty sure they don’t care – not enough to ask me directly, of course.  That would require them talking to me.  And so, I needed a permanent reminder to “play”.

I’m sure “play” means different things to different people.  I have no access to a swing as illustrated on my forearm, but the simplicity of the design and idea struck me.  A swing is simple, thrilling and there is always time for it should it be available.  I may spend a Saturday cleaning carpets and creating a meal plan, but I will benefit from it, and allow myself to “play” when I have more time and opportunity to do so.  I still enjoy sewing, but it isn’t necessarily an active hobby.  However, making things for myself and grateful friends is “play” to me – especially knowing it will help with their “play”.  Self care is also “play” – getting a manicure, shaving, a facial, etc.  Eating a meal at a restaurant can be considered “play”.  Going to my favorite bar where they know my name is “play”.  Walking my dog in the hopes that she’ll quit using the carpet is exercise for both of us and also “play”.  I can take pride at doing for myself on my own time, instead of waiting for the next work day to arrive.

I do want to find another hobby – an active one.  One that requires “play” – maybe a sport? a club?  Something with a bit of whimsey and social engagement with people I don’t work with.  A regularly scheduled something that I can insist on not missing – plan around = scheduled fun.  I used to plan everything around an 11 am yoga class, maybe I’ll get into that again.  I’m still working on it – it’s scary to find the right group, the right event and I’m no longer adventurous in trying new things on my own.  In the mean time, “play” is what you make it, and I’m doing for myself.

Ch- Ch- changes

(turn and face the strain)

The summer flew by – and it was a good one.  Not without it’s stresses, but made the most of the time.  Where did the time go?  The academic year approaches, which marks the end of summer, regardless of how far away from the solstice we are.  I’ve made some changes – some for better, some for worse (because habits are hard to break.)  Some are innocuous – I’m not using my diy detergent any more.  My skin seemed to be getting irritated and I broke down and purchased some sensitive pod things to see if that helped the irritation.  As much as I loved the smell of the diy dishwasher soap, I noticed things not clean, and so gave up on making that, too.

I’m still decluttering the house – the dents being made a smaller though, as there is less to go through.  The sewing room is working out okay, but is the biggest mess in the house.  How did I end up with 4 sewing machines? – not one works ideally.  And what to do with the others?  One needs repair (mom recently gifted it to me so can’t give up on it yet)  One can be donated – bought for $2 at a thrift store and purchased some attachments, but something is wrong with the plate and is catching the fabric.  The others are ancient – my hand crank, my grandmother’s singer.. MUST keep those, but they only straight stitch

I’m transitioning into my Fall work capsule – kind of relieved to say bye to a few of the summer pieces; patched, stained, ill fitting, unflattering or maybe I’m just ready for the transition.  In addition to clothes, I am transitioning from Summer-time Pam, to academia Pam.  Semester beginning, students needing teaching and schedule suddenly too full, with little time to myself.  I found the bucket list of things I wanted to do before summer ended – was met with some success:

Minimized my photos, which included the ones I picked up from Kansas in July – check.  So nice finding some treasures – people and things long forgotten.  Spent 3 nights in a tiny house – check.  Really want to do that again – very retreat like.  Maybe make better use of the time there, or just reflect some more.  Made a ruff – check, in half-scale but still, I time lapsed it and shared it on Facebook.  Looks cool.  So much I didn’t do:  A train ride, camping with Siouxsie, wearing my Rockford Peach costume.  Basement is still not cleaned out, nor the attic.  But there are times and opportunities coming that may support these better.  With summer flying by including a bed bug scare, a few conversations with HR, a last minute trip to GA- I’m not going to stress about what didn’t get done.

Whatever I’ve done or do, I am doing differently.  Thinking about it differently.  I go to work and manage work.  I go home and focus on home and self-care.  The two no longer seem so intertwined.  I am no longer thinking about how one affects the other – unless work encroaches too much into my “me” time.  I am not concerned about students liking me.  I am not concerned about my co-workers opinions, nor am I waiting for them to approach me.  I’m doing what I want, when I want – they can tag along if they want to.  Pam does what she wants.

 

Capsule wardrobe AND a hot mess.

The summer of the skirt has been going well, although I do wear pants about once or twice a week.  My efforts of getting more use out of things I own are paying off and forcing me to think differently when I wake up in the morning.  I recently purchased a few new dresses and had to patch one of the older ones.  I also purchased some white shirts because I had few items I was struggling to pair things with and my chambray shirt was seeing too much use.

I’ve recently had to say goodbye to a few items.  A dress I bought years ago, but had recently become my favorite busted on vacation – the lining held up while the outer fabric shredded at the seams.  One of my new pairs of sandals I bought in the spring have developed a crack at the heal and I got one last wear of them before the trash; now to decide whether or not to replace them this late in summer.  Lastly, I wore a pair of pants for comforts sake yesterday and I realized a little too late they tore sometime during the day exposing the thigh – I was about to go into a meeting and luckily found an old pair of jeans in my office I could change in to.  If things like this happen in three’s, I’ll call myself done.  But there are other clothes in my capsule I am shying away from for other reasons.

The energy I had last month has lapsed to fatigue.  I am tired.  I’ve been busy, a few trips to break up the routine, but when the point is to start a routine even a small break or change can cause you to stop halfway.  I have not been exercising and those athletic wear pieces have served more as cooler clothes for the heat and humidity in my un air-conditioned house.  I am determined to go to more classes this summer – yoga, strength and core and maybe trying the spin classes that I suspect will not be good for my back.  But for now, I am tired and settling back in from my travels.

Of course, not exercising is not helping my clothes fit any better and so some of my clothes just aren’t as comfortable or attractive as they could be.  Two of my dresses button up the front and gap or come unbuttoned in the worst places.  Two skirts do not fit quite right at the waist and so sit uncomfortably on me now.  Ironing is the least of the chores, but I find myself shying away from certain options.  I often tell my students to pay no attention to the size of the garment as long as it fits – but I wonder how I can take my own advice.   How should I go about saving the garment? or do I wear until it just becomes unwearable, one way or another?

Bodies change – as does metabolism and energy, etc.  I won’t worry about the stuff I can’t fix immediately.  The well worn items already tossed because of too much use will be my success and I’ll rest on that.  My too tight items will just have to serve as a reminder that I might want to make better choices, in hopes I pay attention to it before closures pop and seams split.  Fall is coming – the academic year returns.  I must decide how to present myself for the semester.

A Tale of Two Sisters

Netflix has a few documentaries available, and I had to look twice at them.  First I noticed one on Amelia Earhart – an awesome woman and mystery if there ever was one – but the tag line was A Tale of Two Sisters.  I didn’t know she had a sister, so I wasn’t exactly sure what I would be learning.  Later as I was browsing I saw another documentary available on Jackie Kennedy, again with the tag A Tale of Two Sisters and had to double check that I hadn’t misread the Amelia Earhart one.  In fact, I did a search for just that tag line, and came up with 3 options; the third being the Mitford Sisters who I know (knew) nothing about.  It must be some sort of series meant for television as they seemed timed for an hour long slot plus breaks for generous commercials.

I’ve recently had the opportunity to spend some time with my sister both individually at her house and at a family reunion at my parents.  We are all spread out, several states away from each other.  We don’t utilize cell phones and technology like we should so when we get together, there is a large adjustment period as to how we each handle things.  Usually, whoever’s house it is rules are respected but there is the inevitable,  incredulous outcry that something isn’t being done “right”.  We get through it – someone caves in or a solution/compromise is discovered and then we laugh at it.  It is seldom personal and we accept it.

My sister and are different.  As children it was as simple as her being blonde and blue eyed and me brunette with brown or hazel eyes.  She has always been more brash, emotional, adult.  While I am more shy, creative, and reserved.  She is great with rules and laws; facts and figures – her jobs have been in insurance and social services.   I do costuming – and understand far too little about the insurance I carry, laws I follow.  She is married with 2 teenage boys who have been her life for years.  I am single, childless, and without my family nearby I have made local friends and co-workers my “family.”  I like to cook and try new things.  She often eats out.  (Her family are picky eaters so I think she gave up trying to please them all.)  She does not drink alcohol- in fact, it seems to make her sick with migraines, etc.  I indulge more than I ever thought I would, having grown up with my dad who also doesn’t know when to stop drinking.

At the family reunion, she proved so much braver than I, walking the room full of distant cousins introducing herself and making sure she said “hello” and “goodbye” to everyone.  Whereas I, kept close to my most immediate cousin and her children – enjoying them as much as I could, but wishing I had my sister’s confidence and panache.  It was just family after all; no reason to be shy and yet my hesitance kept me a wall flower.  Talking to those who approached me, trying to get names right and willing to help out with any physical tasks and favors needed through out the event.  I did make new friends of new family, but not in the way my sister did.  When we were side by side, she often drew people in by talking about how different we were – something I could also join in on; with anecdotes, facts, opinions.  Neither of us ignore our differences – perhaps that is why we manage to get along.

When we are together, I get to experiment with cooking.  She seems to enjoy being in the kitchen as we prepare things – following the unfamiliar recipes I don’t like to deviate from until I’ve tested it once or twice.  She relishes the change in tastes and texture and isn’t worried who in her family enjoys it or not – they are old enough to take care of themselves.  I get to eat out at restaurants I don’t often go to, and tease her and my nephews while ordering an adult drink as my sister doesn’t keep much, if any, in the house.  We recognize our differences and accept them – they don’t make us any less family.

Time

I sometimes get an idea to plan out my life.  Put things into a Calendar and let the notifications remind me of the little things I sometimes don’t do.  A 9 pm notification every day to brush my teeth.  Clean the litter box at 8 pm, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays.  I know the notifications would bug me and I’d probably ignore them.  Minimalists, my mom and others recommend making your bed each morning – to give yourself the feeling of accomplishment.  My sheets aren’t even tucked in and the I kicked the comforter off the bed a few sleeps ago.

I once made a promise to myself to do 3 things before bed each night – wash the dishes, brush my teeth and clean the litter box (but this was when I had 2 cats and daily was necessary)  Then I tried to give myself 3 things to do before work each morning – make the bed, put away the dishes and honestly, I don’t remember the third.  Obviously, this was slightly less successful.  I also made a date with myself on Thursday nights to pamper myself – shave, facials, etc.  These little attempts at self-care made a huge difference in my attitude.  However, I’m having less success in starting up any kind of similar routine.

I recently went on my trip to the Tiny House, where I retreated and had all the time in the world to think, relax and rest.  Shortly after, I made a quick decision to go see my sister and family for a long weekend.  When I returned, i checked the calendar and realized I was only two and a half weeks away from my big trip – the trip to Kansas and I had nothing really resolved or planned for it.  No house sitter.  Car not serviced for the ride.  Pet meds not refilled.  Sheets not washed from last house sitter.  And then when I get back from that trip it will be just 6 weeks before classes resume and I have doctors appointments needing scheduled.  House repair to get done, etc, etc, and so on.  The energy I had before the GA trip had waned and I’m just tired, tired, tired.  I ache and want to sleep in the fresh air.  Putting things on a mental list, trying to get them done, prioritizing them.

I’m about halfway prepared for the trip, now about a week away.  House sitters arranged.  Still determined to drive and car appointment made.  Begun to work on instructions for house sitters – check.  Emergency contacts for house sitters – check.  Keys for all – nope.  What to pack – thinking about it.  Suddenly an audio book came a priority, so am looking into that.  Should I get my nails done before or try there (that never works)?  Hair appointment has been made.  If I pack a book with I really even open it? These are the thoughts as I go about my regular business.

Truth is I’m almost looking forward to the trip – not really the drive, but hope it’s therapeutic.  2 days in a car is never appealing – alone is something else.  I left the option of picking up my youngest nephew and taking him if the whole family can’t join – not sure if they will take me up on it.  He’s not really a talker though – it would be a labor of love.  If I took the train I would not relax.  I’d be bored.  I can always book a last minute flight.  If I drive, I have freedom and options – I am in control and can hopefully make the most of the flexibility.  I may need new road trip ideas.  Self care while I’m away is doubtful.

Community

In the 15 years I’ve been in this job, I’ve looked for community.  My work family has always been lacking – at least of people looking for my type of community.  It’s one thing to do movie nights, family friendly events or the occasional favor opposed to the happy shenanigans of  people in the same boat as you and not just looking out for their own benefit.  I can’t deny I may have sought the latter, but the former is what I really crave.  I find that the local folk’s eye’s glaze over the moment I mention anything farther away than the “shore”  – or what I would call the “beach”.  But such is life – I just want people a little more adventurous.

I finely convinced my bosses to let me sit the campus Farmer’s Market and do mending for people..  This may be solely to my benefit – mental health and all that – but the locals are receptive and encouraging.  Happy to remember to bring me things to fix as I sew outside.  There is a personal attachment people have to this chore, and I find myself happy to oblige.  Sitting outside and sewing – using my hand crank sewing machine and the people “paying what they will” for the service is rewarding to me, even if the question or the personality is not to my liking.  It is not me to question their motives, just their need.  I am lucky if they remember to bring the item(s), and I am grateful for that.  I find this audience is generous and have already exceeded my donations goal.

One vendor who I am placed across from likes to tell off color jokes.  He is older and has a lot of strong opinions about things, I can tell.  Everything from people wanting to make more than $10/hour, to “youngsters” who complain about how hard their lives are.  I’ve begun  to communicate with him via thumbs up and thumbs down rating – Thumbs up = non offensive to I think anyone and thumbs down can be found offensive from anything to being a blonde, disabled, or a religious minority.  There was even a rape joke thrown in there, but I think he was testing me.  Frankly, he reminds me of my dad without the filter.  I will be happy if he quits testing me and sticks to all thumbs up jokes – like I try to give him = 2 guys walk into a bar, the next one ducks.    A horse walks into a bar and the bartender asks “Why the Long Face?”.  (tell me more…)

I’ve already had to explain to him, I’m not a vendor.  I don’t have rates – they can pay what they want/able.  I’m doing this as a fund raiser – not explaining it’s for my own sanity.  What part of hand crank sewing machine owning educated  bleeding heart liberal doesn’t he understand?  I will NOT engage him.  Be outraged.  Challenge him more than a thumbs down.  And as I explained to him – at least I was being honest .  Would he rather I laugh just to placate his jokes?  He looked away not knowing how to answer.  Maybe that is enough.  I do not defend my opinion by negating his.

His booth never makes enough money as it’s always a slow day, but I learned it is not his booth – he just works it.  The aging hippie owner is also there, but doesn’t test my opinions but respects my advice/skills and is wiling to barter.  I walk away the past few weeks with green vegetables that didn’t sell that day and the hippie farmer is happy and the jokester wishes there were more $$$.  Maybe I’ve found a hippie I can relate to – one that can show the respect without the expectation I think the way they do.  If  I succeed in both of them still talking to me, I will be happy.  It is in this discourse I find my community.

Dreams

In my dreams, I am usually traveling.  I am in a hotel, resort, cruise ship, car – but of course, none of these places actually exist.  In my dream I may know that I am at my parents house, for example, but it is nothing like my parents real house, nor the town it’s in.  I can almost draw a map of the locations I go – Gorilla Uprising Museum (yes, really) is near the rocky beach which is near this cute little shore town which leads to a really hip, trendy spot which is not too far away from a large arena theatre.  I have thought of sketching the map out amusement park style but probably won’t.  I’m not sure how I feel about these recurring dreams.  The sense of deja vu in them weirds me out.

Dream interpretation sites like this one, suggest,:

To dream that you are traveling represents the path toward your life goals. It also parallels your daily routine and how you are progressing along. Alternatively, traveling signifies a desire to escape from your daily burdens. You are looking for a change in scenery, where no one has any expectations of you. Perhaps it is time to make a fresh start. If your travels come to an end, then it symbolizes successful completion of your goals.

I think this interpretation sums it up.  If I go to bed thinking about all the stuff I have to do the next day – I dream the to-do list.  The task gets done and I wake up refreshed UNTIL I realize it was just a dream and it is still not done.  Usually these dreams also show stress and I never reach the destination – I’m not sure I know what the destination is.  I am sometimes lost on the cruise ship.  The arena theatre is huge and empty, unless a performance is going on; and then I’m trying to be discreet, using back hallways, staircases and trap rooms.

Lately, my dreams have changed a bit.  I blame this on some new medicine.  I am not dreaming in lists, but small events or thoughts during the day before that presented itself become major plot points.  Recently, I was at a new diner – but I’ve been there before.  The same person was bussing the tables and couldn’t talk – this is a former student who I have not kept in touch with and somehow he is bussing tables in my dream with no time to talk.  But he had come to mind that day – something reminded me of him.  Other aspects of the dream are more random and/or violent but I can usually pinpoint what made me think of it awake, which might put it in a dream.

Last night, I was in a new house – sharing with some friends; two couples who I don’t think know each other in real life.  My bathroom was haunted by a little girl name Angel, a former orphan who had been adopted but never felt loved.  I could feel her pulling my towels and clothes as I tried to dress or dry myself off.  She never showed herself, but was quite forceful.  My roommates told me the story – it was their house they’d just bought and was fixing it up.  They kept finding hidden rooms behind old phone books. I was going to and from the gym.  I remember going down the hill in the dirtier, warehouse district on the map.  I haven’t even begun to try to interpret this one – want to take a stab at it?

Going to the gym in my new athletic wear, my odor eaters for certain shoes and watering the plants all make cameo appearances in these dreams.  These are on my mind and therefore on my to-do list.  I should try to single them out and actually handle them to get them off my mind and therefore out of my dreams – less clutter perhaps will mean a clearer map.

A hot mess – Part 2

So a quick recap off Part 1, I need new exercise clothes – active wear, as they are now calling it.  One set of poorly thought out knitwear is not going to cut it without making me self conscious amongst the others working out.  I’ll invest in one more pair of cropped leggings, and a couple of more breathable tops to wear over my current sports bras – I’m set for socks.  Head bands will need to be a thing, but let’s start with the bigger items first.

I found a great bargain on the inter-webs from national brand, non-box store source – BOGO on their sale items!  They have plus sizes – score!  I’ll look even trendier amongst the sweaty masses than I imagined.  But when I go to check out, I realize this deal is only for the subscription service.  Luckily I found this reading the fine print before purchasing and a quick google search tells me I was lucky to discover it first.  However, I am more dumbstruck than crestfallen.

Subscription activewear?  I suppose I’d heard that yoga pants were replacing jeans as the casual favorite garment – although I’ll shudder to ever hear the phrase, “I’ll wear my good leggings out tonight.”  There are jokes on the internet about women in their activewear – shopping for groceries, going to the movies, smoking on the street, etc.  All shopping trends and jokes aside, I am all for wearing what you want and being comfortable.  I just can’t imagine myself spending $50/month on this service, no matter how often I exercise or lounge.  If I had the lifestyle to wear them everyday, I might think differently.  I’m not trying to sound judgmental; I must find what works for ME.

My active wear will be just that – active, with occasional lounging from time to time, I’m sure.  I am wary of walking the two blocks from work to the gym in only leggings and a t-shirt, although I take comfort in supposing that people think, “She’s going to the gym” but I do not suppose I will wear it out and about.  Perhaps, I may throw a dress over the leggings and call it a “look”.  But otherwise, my minimal vanity and self consciousness is a thing yet to conquer and my preferred schedule doesn’t account for much more than packing a change of clothes to be seen more regularly in.

I know subscription services are a thing -new, cool and convenient.  However, personally there are only a few items of things I could accept and use on a monthly basis without a surplus building up, unused.  These things are mostly consumable beverages – teas and snacks, etc.  And so back to the big box stores I go to find my affordable garments; I’ll buy what I need and probably use a coupon.  Or find used if it’s in good enough condition.  To hell with better national brands – it’s just active wear, after all.  But a fashion style all the same.

A hot mess – Part 1

I’ve gone a bit over board.  Having just paid my bills and gearing up for a mini vacation have me looking at my finances again.  Of course, the first of the month is easy to think the money won’t spend itself, but I actually think I will need to start tracking my purchases and budget.  I feel less like shopping so save money there, but am spending money on social and events rather than things – and this is where my money is going.  I don’t mind it so much; I need the social and the doing kind of events and shouldn’t really cut those off.  What is paid for is already paid for and so as long as I’m using it, it’s not a waste.

Three weeks into the exercising, and haven’t stopped – slowed, but not stopped.  I haven’t sat at a weight machine in about a week, but walking, yoga and (gulp) an early morning Barre class have kept me sore and sweating.  I’m learning I need it – I DO feel better to keep moving – Endorphins make you happy and it fills some time.  Someone mentioned to me trying to do all the free exercise classes I can this summer to try new exercises and studios to get out and about.  I think I’m liking the idea – it’s spurring me on and I’m looking for what’s available.

This Barre class I went to – a friend gave me a guest pass to attend with her.  I think she is going 3 times a week.  I’m not sure what I was expecting – I think I was expecting more like Ballet; put your heel on the bar and stretch, repetitions of plie’s and holding your arms out gracefully.  I was wrong.  It was a mix of aerobic squatting, weights and yoga – I’d probably throw Zumba in there, but have not attended one of those classes (yet).  I was sweating and unsteady on my feet halfway in trying to keep up.  Most in the class, like my friend, are obviously old pro’s and know the routines.  I’m lucky to keep pace a beat behind.  I don’t feel bad about stopping or getting off beat; I’m new and learning.

Here is where the hot mess part comes in.  I’d set my alarm to get there for the 6 am class.  In a blind, off routine, no coffee mode, I put on my one pair of cropped gym pants (full disclosure-these were dirty) and I put on a t-shirt I’ve been working out in, among gardening, etc.  This was clean, but I didn’t realize how stained it was, especially at the stomach, until I got to the studio.  Close to the start of the class, I realized how much pet hair was on the pants.  I’m surrounded by ladies in active wear and I’m wearing 100% cotton oversized t-shirt -stained at that.  It augments how much my hair is flying away and curling with the sweat; my chipped painted toe nails; the rough skin on my feet.  All I can do is keep going, but I’m feeling very low class.

I’ve never been too vain, but it does creep up from time to time.  Like wearing dresses and climbing trees as a child, what I am wearing does not often stop me but I usually feel either over dressed or under dressed for whatever occasion.  However I had been noticing that I don’t know what to exercise in; few options are left after the capsule reorganization, unless I want to go all black – and I don’t.  With the expectation (and present reality) of working out more this is more of a problem than I expected.  So, I’ve broken down and purchased some new active wear – a gym capsule if you will- with two of everything; pants, sports bras, non cotton tanks.  It’s the first of the month, after all.  I will cut down on something else later to free up these petty, vain concerns and I suspect I’ll be happier for it.

Piles

Things are piling up.  Actually not the physical things this time – I’m still handling things one at a time and it is still getting done, making small improvements and it does seem to be changing my mind set.  I had a few conversations today that have stuck with me, in both tone and content and no podcast will shake them from over thinking it.

I spoke to both my parents this morning – usually they are a matched set on different phones in the house, or if one walks in on the conversation halfway through the phone is passed and I end up repeated everything I said to the other.  Today was the latter.  I had a few questions about an upcoming trip this summer and thought I’d reach out.  My dad has recently had a minor medical episode and that is breaking the norm for them – I’d like to help if they’d let me.

First, it was my dad who answered; he was cooking bacon while mom was out feeding the barn cats.  These chores are usually reversed.  Dad answers my questions to the best of his ability, but encourages me to wait for mom.  I can hear the strain in her voice as she listens to my questions and I get the answer I needed her to make (do I come earlier than the planned trip?)  But then she talks about things she needs to talk to me and my sister about – basically inheritance stuff.  I think this minor issue of my dad’s is not so minor and has put pressure on her or woken the reality of their age and health.  Also the need for me or my sister to live closer to her… no pressure there (sigh).  This is what she can’t say, but I hear it in her voice.

Then a call to a co-worker, who I usually don’t call, but who has promised to help me with something- actually encouraged by management to support me.  The tone was polite but curt and I’ve heard it in her voice before, when she doesn’t really want to deal with someone.  I talk to her about what it is I need and it can be done on the computer and she said she’d look into it – her share is still not done although 2 others managed to figure it out without prompting.  She had suggested I could be given permissions to do it myself, but doesn’t that defeat the support I thought I would receive?  I think I am resented… not my intention.

Today I cleaned the makeup cabinet while listening to podcasts – threw out the bad stuff, reorganized the good and made a little more room, I think, for when it’s needed.  Podcasts could not erase the concerns of the conversation out of my mind.  Maybe I should try music to soothe this beast of overthinking….