Tuesday, August 25, 2009


Like every other woman on the planet, as my body gets older, it's going through some changes. For me, it means I've gone up another size on the bottom half, and now have a more hippy figure than I am used to. I never thought I'd be the one to buy "curvy fit" at stores, but here I am. I'm not happy about it, but genetics are involved and though I am doing more exercising, there's only so much I can do about it, seeing as how I can't quit my job to work out all day like a movie star.

What struck me this morning is that I have nothing to wear to the impending funeral. I am not used to "growing out" of my clothes, so I can't walk downstairs and grab one of my nice (classic, not 90s purple, I promise) suits because they don't fit anymore. I had finally gotten to a point where I felt I had most of the categories purchased and was well-covered for all occasions... and now I have to start all over again. I already have clothes... they just don't fit anymore. That's frustrating.

While the prospect of shopping for a new wardrobe sounds fun, the expense isn't something I'm thrilled about. I'm to the point where I want to buy better clothes, ones that wash well, fit well, flatter my new shape. That costs money, more money than I usually spend. Buying a new wardrobe isn't something I have been saving for, either. Not sure how I'm going to justify some of the expense to my husband, who thinks my level of clothing inventory is already the largest he's seen from any woman. Usually he's ok with me making new purchases as long as I weed out the old, so we'll see. I'm not talking a zillion dollars here, just $70-120 instead of $30-50; it will add up.

I'm already on the hunt for winter cords, seeing as how I coasted through last winter on fumes. Luckily a lot of places are now offering different fits & cuts. Eddie Bauer curvy fit cords, here I come.

I haven't had a good relationship with my body in the past, and these changes are making me feel worse about myself. Do people look at me and say, "hunh, she's finally put on some weight, ha ha ha!" That's sort of how I feel when people are near. It may be the furthest thing from their mind (at least until they read this), but not mine. I have stopped short of wearing barrels and baggy clothes, rest assured.

I called Personal Shopper Jenn for her help to find me something that I can wear to upcoming inevitable events. I've sometimes not been the best shopping companion as I adjust to New Body™, but she has been extremely patient with me, so I have to thank her for putting up with me. ;) I'm slowly getting better and trying to focus on the positive side of getting a new, higher quality wardrobe.

Losing & loss

I wrote this section before getting a call from my Dad that my grandfather had an estimated 24-48 hours to live. I guess I was just in a depressed mood yesterday morning.


Death scares me. In my mind, it is an unrecoverable loss. I'll never get to see those people again for the rest of my life. It's been 20 years since my grandmother died, and I still keenly feel the loss. I have many good times to remember her by, but it's not the same. I'd rather have her here with me, able to spend time with her as an adult, learn from her some skills I wish I'd been old enough to learn 20 years ago. I have a lot of regrets about not learning all that I could while I still could. I should have put more effort into knitting, should have paid more attention when she was cooking, should have should have should have. This was 20 years ago, and yet I can’t even type this without crying.

My grandfather is not well. He’s the last grandparent I have, and I know what’s coming. He will die, and I will have no grandparents left. His house will be sold, and that last connection to childhood places will be gone. I’m scared to visit him in the hospital, but I know that I have to. I don’t know how to deal with the deterioration, the frail body, the less intelligible speaking.

John may live a shorter life than me. After he’s gone, I’ll be alone. My parents will likely be gone, my brothers probably living away. John and I have no plans for children, but even if we had them, they likely wouldn’t want to be burdened with their lonely mother as they’d have their own lives to lead. He’s the one person who is there 24/7 listening intently to what I have to say, and I’m scared there won’t be anyone who cares that much if he’s not here.

I know I bore some people with my issues, I can see their eyes glaze over, their attention turns to something else, or they just start talking over me. It happens frequently, at least that is my perception. That’s one of the main reasons for this blog, so I can speak uninterrupted and for as long as I need.


Dad called yesterday around 10:30am with the news. I went to the hospital at lunch and last evening. It's hard to see Gug like that, with his teeth out, mouth hanging open while he slept. He was never a large man, but not being able to eat the last few months means that he's basically wasted away. He doesn't look like himself. I need to push past this and go visit anyway, so he knows I'm there.

I'm tired of losing people. I haven't really lost that many people, to be honest, but I'm tired of it nonetheless. I know there are more losses to come in life, and it's going to happen to people even more close to me. My faith does help me believe that the people who have passed are in a better place, but I'm selfish and want them still here with me.

Gug never wanted to be immobile, bedridden, etc. He had surgery on his eyes for cataracts and cornea transplants, something which encouraged me to become an organ donor candidate. He also had veins stripped and replaced in his legs to help circulation. These things helped to keep him going, living with his dog in his house, mostly independent. He loves to read, golf, and bowl, but wasn't able to do much of that recently.

What I dread the most is the aftermath. I dread funeral parlour and funeral. Having to go to the church and the gravesite is going to rehash a lot of memories from my grandmother's funeral 20 years ago. I feel like I'm going to endure a double loss. Thankfully I have John to support me.

God, when you decide it's time, please take care of him.

Monday, August 10, 2009

Bad guy

Why does the onus have to be on me to interpret your grammatical error in such a way that it makes sense? I could be a real bitch about it and tell you I have no idea what you’re saying, but I can tell you how that conversation would turn out. “You know what I meant. Geez, what are you so sticky on grammar for?” Then I’m the bad guy for “making you” feel stupid, thus eliciting a defensive reaction in which you would feel the need to put me down. Why should I be the bad guy when you’re the one who types a sentence that mistakes “once” for “ones”?

Friday, August 07, 2009

Caring time is over

People will only care for so long. No matter how many times you remind others of your life's hardship, there is an inherent shelf life to how long you can gain sympathy from others. I have run into this three times in my life (one of which I am not discussing here intentionally).

5 years ago, after a long-term relationship breakup, I spent a lot of time talking, joking, whining, and stuck in a post-breakup rut. It got to the point where I had to be kicked in the ass by a friend of mine, who told me to basically "get over it" and addressed the specifics of my complaints in a way that made sense to me. His comments clicked, I couldn't argue them, and it was a turning point for me. It was a hard pill to swallow, but I did and finally moved forward with my life.

The reason I have come to blog today is that I noticed a correlation between the aforementioned situation and a work situation. Since most of my life over the past year has been usurped by work, I'm a pretty busy person. I will tell anyone who will listen about how busy I am (see a pattern?) and it is the truth. I currently have 880 items in my email inbox that need sorting/action, I have pages of notes since June 30 that need to be reviewed and logged and possibly acted upon, and I have 4 stacks of paper that are things I need to fix or research, plus phone calls and drop-ins. [881 now].

In my mind, if the issue is not a crisis, I feel it is most important to address the oldest issues first because they have been waiting the longest. Others do not share this opinion. They know how busy I am, and have even repeated it back to me, but they've gone beyond the point of caring. They have now emailed another person in my department (who will only end up bringing the issue to me anyway) and copied my boss. The copying of my boss is what irks me to no end. A lot of people subscribe to the belief that if the boss is copied, the work will get done faster, when, in actuality, it's a guaranteed way to piss me off and put your issues on the bottom of my list. It feels childish and immature, like they have to tattle on you that you're not getting your job done. Given this and a second email sent to someone else in my department (but not cc'd to my boss that time), I can only assume that caring time is over and this person just wants answers.

Yeah? Well so do the other 1000 issues I have sitting around me right now. It's a bit overwhelming at times, actually. The sad part is, despite all of the overtime I have already worked, it's going to take more overtime to dig myself out of this hole. [882].

So, now I am stuck dealing with this issue because my boss was copied, achieving the opposite signal I want to send because, ultimately, it affects a third party. I know what my boss will say, I know what this co-worker will say, I can play it all out in my head. The least painful method to me is to just get it done and move forward.

Caring has a shelf life, and it expired today. It sucks, but nobody cares anymore. Just shut up and get some more work done, will ya? Geesh.