Minecraft is bad for the memory

My children are getting along.  Voluntarily spending time with each other.  I'm not entirely sure what to do right now, actually.  Yeah, yeah - enjoy it while it lasts.  I know.  Thanks - with all the sarcasm I can muster.

Today, I got distracted from a purpose by Minecraft.  (I know there will be a small contingent of you who do not know what Minecraft is, so I have provided a link for your edification and reading pleasure.) There I was, headed to the storage room, on a mission, when I run into four or five guys standing in the hallway discussing Minecraft.  They asked for my two cents (or, rather, I gave it to them...you know me) and then when I continued on my purposeful journey to aforementioned storage room I had totally forgotten why I went there in the first place.  For the life of me, I couldn't remember.  I still don't remember.  Not that it really matters, though, I suppose.  Although it makes me wonder what else I'm forgetting.

I guess I'm getting old.  It goes along with the hot-flashes.  (Yes, I did just say that out loud.  Get over it.)

And that, my beloved friends and readers, is about all I can muster today.

TTFN
JMS

Advice, Given & Received

A friend of mine said something to me the other day that resonated with me in a way very few things do these days.  We were discussing my anxiety over a certain project and she said, “You’re just anxious about [the project] because you care.”  (I’m paraphrasing.)

Holy moly!

Okay – so it may not be such a moment for you, but it was for me.  I do tend to get anxious about the outcome of things and she’s right, my level of anxiety is directly related to how much I care about the project or thing that I’m working on, or people the project will affect.  The more anxious or stressed out I am, the more I care about what I’m doing.  I never really thought about it in that way before, but…wow...I've definitely thought about it now.

It’s kind of wild (and maybe, if I am being honest, a little disconcerting) to have someone who isn’t me know me, in some ways, better than I know myself.  If this person were just about anyone else, I might have brushed it off and not thought another thing about it.  But my friend, being who she is, means that paying attention is practically a requirement.  This is a good thing.  It's folks like her who you want to listen to.

This probably isn’t going to really change anything – knowing my anxiety vs. care ratio – but it does fall into the category of Best Advice I’ve Ever Been Given.  And, though I suppose it wasn’t exactly advice, either, I am still putting it squarely in the BAIEBG column because it fits there.

Here’s another example of great advice given to me.

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away (sorry – don’t smack me) I worked in a jewelry store in Old Town, Alexandria, VA.  The store owner was brash and difficult and we butted heads…often.  I loved my job.  I loved the jewelry.  I wanted to love my boss, too, but she made it very difficult.

One day, a co-worker pulled me aside and advised, “You’ve got to listen to what she is saying, not how she is saying it.  Do that, and you and [boss lady] will get along just fine.”  (I’m not paraphrasing here – I actually remember this one word-for-word.  Hm…how odd that the above advice was given only yesterday -or maybe it was last week- and I can’t remember the exact words, but this thing that took place nearly 20 years ago, I remember verbatim.)

I don’t remember exactly what happened after except to say that my life got infinitely better after that sound wisdom was imparted to me.  Even now, as a much older adult, I occasionally have to remind myself of those words.  Listen to what they are saying, not how they are saying it.

It's good advice, don't you think?  I think it can be effective in both your personal life, and your professional one.

TTFN

JMS

A moment of brutal honesty

In chatting online with a long-time friend last night, I came to some conclusions that I may not really have arrived at if not given an opportunity to actually think about them. In a moment of brutal honesty, I'd like to share with you the following conversation. My friend's name has been omitted, though I will say that she was the guidance counselor at my high school years and years ago and knew me when I was, quite literally, at my absolute worst emotionally.

GC

This is totally off subject but someday, when you have time and feel like it, I would love it if you could talk to me about what was going on with you in high school, and how you overcame whatever it was that was making you so so unhappy, What worked to help you? and what didn't. I am so proud of the life you have made for yourself, but I would really like for you to talk about what turned you around- if you can and want to.

ME

I can tell you right now. It was a combination of having lost my mom at 15, my dad having remarried too soon to a woman who slapped me across the face and told me to get the F out of her house, living with a grandmother who had not one clue about how to raise a teenager in "modern" times and not being allowed to do anything with friends that a normal teenager would do.

GC

So how did you find your way, instead of going to the dark side?

ME

I really don't know. I guess it was probably because I was afraid to become like those around me? Fear was a great motivator for me back then. It's also the reason I never got into drugs or alcohol in any real way. Fear. I was afraid to get caught. Afraid to become something less than I could be. Afraid of becoming like my alcoholic/abusive father or simply horrible step mother. Or of being so out of touch with reality or modern day society that I didn't understand things. I was afraid of not performing to the absolute best of my ability. I think fear was probably - at that time in my life - a major player.

As I grew older, wiser - whatever - I overcame a lot of those fears and have learned to be stronger for overcoming them.

For example (and maybe not the best one) the day I drove on the highway for the first time - all by myself - was a HUGE thing. I was TERRIFIED of driving on the highway. My mom was afraid of it and so was my grandmother so I probably picked that fear up from them. When I moved to Tennessee, and took a job in Knoxville, for a long time I was able to get to and from work just driving back roads. Taking the long way around, which was stupid and a waste of time, energy and money. So, one day I decided that I'd just get on the highway and go one exit down. Just one. And I did that. I was terrified, but I did it anyway. And I did that every day until I was totally comfortable with it. Then I moved another exit down and so on until one day I was driving all the way to work on the highway. Then the big test was driving all by myself to South Carolina (Greeneville) to pick up my husband. I was cured. But again, it was a FEAR that drove me. No pun intended.

GC

I'm thinking your mom did a pretty good job when you were young. Somewhere you learned to put one foot in front of the other. I am sorry you were so afraid.

ME

I was afraid that if I didn't learn how to drive on the highway that I'd box myself into a certain kind of life and maybe affect my own children. Project my own fears on them. I still struggle with that some days, but my kids are not (thankfully) afraid of much.

GC

You are a masterpiece

ME

LOL! Hardly. I struggle every day to keep myself together. But now, I do it not for myself - I do it for my family. For those that rely on me. My life has never, ever, truly been MINE. It's always belonged to someone else, been ruled by someone else, or something else (fear). But thank you.

GC
Well, your life will become your own, with time. In the meantime, you seem to be raising amazing children. That is a pretty important thing and when you are my age, you will cherish that as a wonderful life production. Having pride in your children is priceless, though you should certainly have pride in yourself!!!!

And not a part of that conversation, but in closing of this post, I do have pride in myself.  Most of the time. I'm working on it.  A little bit.  Every day.  And some days it's a lot harder than others.  But the good definitely outweighs the bad now, and for that I am so very thankful.

TTFN
JMS

Tananda Dot Com - Everybody, Somebody, Anybody and Nobody *OR* Does Anyone Do Anything Around Here? (Cross Posted)

Hey Everybody!

Would Somebody please check out my newest article on Tananda.com?

http://tananda.com/2014/06/everybody-somebody-anybody-and-nobody-or-does-anyone-do-anything-around-here/

Anybody can get to it.

Unless Nobody wants to.

TTFN
JMS

Tananda Dot Com - Find Your Zen: Nervousness vs. The Interview (Cross Posted)

Check out my latest article on Tananda Dot Com! 

http://tananda.com/2014/05/find-your-zen-nervousness-vs-the-interview/

Keep Calm and Read On!

TTFN
JMS

Passive Aggressiveness

It’s been a few days since my last post. I’m getting over an “I totally suck” mental-state, so bear with me. I’m still fragile.

***

I received the following note on my desk this morning:

"Dear Infidel,

You allowed someone to sit at my desk.

They stole my staple remover.

In order to bring balance back to the Universe, I was forced to take yours."

[clip art of staple remover]

[clip art of Buddha]

Seriously?

On the one hand, I can understand that the writer’s intent was probably to be amusing. I get that. I truly do. And I am inclined to find it amusing. I must find it amusing or it will make me mad. That being said let me explain to you, my dear reader, why I’m also inclined to be ticked off. I shall break it down for you:

Dear Infidel. Do I need to point out that I am not, in fact, an infidel? Wikipedia says that the word “infidel” (literally “one without faith”) is a term used in religions…for one who has no religious beliefs…"  You can look that up. And anyone who knows me knows how far that term is from the truth. It is insulting, even if it is, I hope, meant to be amusing.

You allowed someone to sit at my desk. Well, no, actually I didn’t. It is against company policy. I don’t have a copy of said policy in my hand, but I'm sure it exists. Not only that, but in so far as I am a rule-follower, I would never allow someone to sit at someone else’s desk.  Ever.  Period.

They stole my staple remover. And a staple remover is so very difficult to replace? Or, taken another way, there is an entire cabinet of office supplies just around the corner from wherever it is you sit…did you not think to look there? And if your precious staple remover was red, have you been relegated to the basement and are you possibly expecting a paycheck? (Some of you will get that, and others won’t. Stapler vs. Staple Remover – I think I can abuse the parallel.)

In order to bring balance back to the Universe, I was forced to take yours. You are very welcome and I hope it brings you many years of happiness and usefulness. My reaction to finding my staple remover missing would have been to sigh (the level of said sigh based exclusively upon my immediate need for said staple remover), get my butt up, walk to the supply cabinet, and grab another one. We’ve got, like, twenty of them. They cost about $0.25 to replace. If your Universe has now balanced itself, all should be right with your world, and therefore all is right with mine. I am happy to share.

But here's the rest of the story.  I leave the office at 4PM.  This was as true last Friday as it was any other day of the week unless alternate arrangements have been discussed with and approved by my boss.  The note was not there Friday afternoon when I left, and there were very few people in the office, most having already gone home for the long weekend or taken the day off.  Then we had Saturday and Sunday.  Weekend days.  Probably no one decided to come to the office on those days.  Then Monday was a Holiday.  The office was closed.  Who, in their right mind, would come to the office on a day they didn't have to?  Beyond me.  So that leaves Friday afternoon after I left the office.  Which means, that the writer of this note waited until I left that evening to place the note on my desk.  Passive aggressive much?

Now that I have said my piece, I will share with you my passive aggressive response:

I think I am amusing. Now, please tell me, who is inclined to be ticked off?

TTFN
JMS

Fun? Oh, ever so much!

You know what's fun? Laryngitis. You know what's even more fun? An upper respiratory infection to go along with it. It's a good thing I don't need to talk to post this, eh?

TTFN
JMS