Frustrations and thankfulness

You would think that finally moving into our new house would mean I was bursting at the seams with excitement and unable to control myself from showing you everything.

Yeah.

Not so much.

We are in. That is true.

Moving issues

We went without a fridge for 5 days, our dishwasher leaked all over the floor, the closets are a disaster, and neither The Guy or I have slept more than 5 hours a night since we moved in.

Montel has cried and barked for hours every time we leave the house and the soundproofing will only be effective once the entry way is finished and isn't so echoey.

I am happy to be here, but I will be happier to be settled.


Here are the things I am able to be thankful for this week.

Family

1. My brother had a health scare the last few months, but got some good news recently.
   
   He might be a butt face, but he's ours and we don't want to lose him anytime soon.
   
   

   

   We had SO MANY matching outfits

   
   
2. My father and his wife arrive in Canada in a few days. He will arrive to my house after the middle of the month. I'm hoping I have a bed for them by then.
   
   

   

   This is a perfect picture of them as a couple.
   Dad is very pleased with himself
   Tanya is one step from rolling her eyes at him.

   
   

Life improvements

3. The coffee "bar" area in the new house is awesome. It looks that much better now that we have a fridge and don't have to go to the garage for creamer.
   

   
   
   
   

   It will be better when I get a chance to decorate more, but LOOK!!!

4. I got an award from the Women's Committee at my Union for the work I've done. I was pretty impressed - even with the misspelled name!
   
   
   
   
   
   
5. I got an accidental day off today. I have no idea why I booked it. I guess God knew I would need the break by now.

The next step

This coming weekend will have me working to finish unpacking the kitchen, starting on the bathroom, working on my private contract, taking time to hang out with Lil E and Monty, and collapsing in a heap on the floor.

Some time soon, when I can laugh about it, I will start talking about the house.

I'm not there yet.

Well, I wanted a change

In January, I wrote about my word for the year: change. I'd had a rough fall which had been preceded by a tough couple of years. I needed something to be different and I decided it was going to be me.

Well, I asked for it.

This angel knew I was asking for it
(via)

Things at work have changed for the better for the most part.

I am loving my new assignment and really feel like I'm doing something worthwhile.  I am a little overwhelmed at times and am putting in a lot of hours, but for the most part, I think I could be good at it.  There are still a lot of things there that need to change, but I'm more positive than I have been in a long time there.

I am excited to go to work again.

The contract work is a lot tougher than I thought. I can do it, but am at times overwhelmed by the incredible amount of data I need to go through and somehow shape into a cohesive, concise, and helpful evaluation. I head back out to the community this week for two days of festivities, interviews, and more information.  It's due in June and I am going to be pulling a few all nighters.

My dad says that our family only finds inspiration in looming deadlines.  He's not wrong.

The house is getting closer and closer every day. It cannot come soon enough for me, but I am trying to be patient. Things beyond anyone's control keep cropping up and just when I think we will have a date to move in, it becomes less concrete.  I have gone from being frustrated at the delays to thinking it's the nicest house I will NEVER EVER GET TO LIVE IN.

Left: upstairs cupboards in the evening
Right; basement cupboards in the afternoon 

The basement kitchen is almost ready to go, but the upstairs counter tops are coming much later. That's what I get for upgrading. If I'd gone with laminate, it would be ready by now.

It is going to be so pretty. It's worth it all.

Or so I repeat, in a mantra, to myself.

I am still going to yoga a couple of times a week. I find it so necessary. It gives me time to centre and realign myself. I need a focused time to unfocus myself. I have a huge crush on one of my instructors and want to be best friends with another. I am still a little out of place with the Lulu lunch crowd, but I don't even care.

Contemplation
(pic taken in Havana)

I need a moment when I'm not overwhelmed by the volume of all that I have going on.

I guess that's the thing about change that I didn't think about.

Change is an action.

Change is exhausting and overwhelming and exciting. It takes over and demands your attention. Life will be different and it's making damn sure you recognize that fact. It means to make or transform and neither of those things are passive.

So, despite truly loving my leisure time, I'm finding I'm moving more often than not. I still need quiet times so I don't burn out, but I have things going on.

When I'm not totally freaking out, it's a great feeling.

Best of: my favourite of the first 50 days #100happydays

In January, I began a trek into reminding myself what makes me happy on a daily basis. I'd had a rough fall, a worse winter, and then my best friend died. This has been my daily reminder that the world was not ending.

Now, things are on the upswing. I came back from stress leave to a new position at work that I love, a constant work schedule for the first time in 15 years, new learning opportunities, the house build on track for May 1, and The Guy moved to a normal work time. It's been a whirlwind few months and I still feel like my brain hasn't caught up, but I'm enjoying it.

I decided to go through the first 50 days of my #100happydays and show you some of my favourite pictures.

Day 1                                                                        Day 30

My two guys

Warmer weather and new booties make happy puppy!

It is fitting I started this adventure with a picture of my family. They both make regular appearances throughout.  The Guy is my rock and Monty is my comfort. Whenever a bad day threatens, one of these two will make everything okay. I could not be more thankful for them.

Day 3

Poolside Cuban resort

For many years, The Guy and I have travelled to Cuba with friends. This year, The Guy booked an impromptu trip for just the two of us. We lounged, ate, drank, napped, wandered, and relaxed. It was just what we needed.  For our first "solo" trip, it was a success!

Day 11                                                                       Day 31

Winter walk with Monty

Beautiful evening sky

This winter has been the coldest I can remember. With temps dropping to -45C without accounting for the wind (which brought it down to -52C some night) it was rare we could get outside. When we did, both Monty and I relished in the freedom and the beauty. Well, he had the freedom part anyway. I just revealed in the beauty the world has for us, even when it's frozen.

Day 15

A conversation with my brother.

This conversation with my brother has exploded to new heights of torture. I put this picture on Facebook and suddenly everyone in my brother's life started posting banana facts, banana pictures, and banana paraphernalia. It has been glorious. I'm sure he's going to punch me in the nose when I see him next, but it was worth it.

Day 18

I found this pic of The Guy and me in 2012
picture by our friend Denise

This picture popped up on my radar after 2 years and sent me immediately back to that night. A warm "summer" night in Cuba with friends, laughter, my love, and the most amazing city I've ever been in. I love me some Havana.

Day 19                                                                        Day 28

Group Sudoku challenges

Animal erasers for work Sudoku challenges!

At the suggestion of a new student at our office, the workers started to do one Sudoku challenge a night. We worked on it during our breaks and began cheering each other on, correcting each other's missteps, and bonding as a team like we hadn't been able to do in a long time. I love Sudoku for this reason alone.

Day 23

Finished my llama shawl today

I began this shawl in November and finally finished it. The yarn was llama wool from a local vendor and had been purchased for me by KB years before. I was working on it the night she died and she never even knew I had started it. I'm glad to have a physical reminder of the warmth and love KB had for me.

Day 25                                                                       Day 29

The colour palette for our house

The colours and tiles for our Master Suite

Day 36

New counters and cupboards for the house

As the time to move into our new place gets closer and closer, I am preparing for how I want it all to come together. We are getting to pick out things for the house - like colours and countertop - and I am in my element. The Guy has been smart enough to stand back and watch with amusement.  He gets the garage, I get the decorating!

Day 33

Sarah and I had fun at the Science Centre

My good friend (and once neighbour), Laura, and her little imp, Sarah, invited me out to the Science Centre for the day. I had not been in many many years, so I jumped on the chance.  We explored, we played, we laughed, we took pictures of dead mice.  A good time was had by all.

Day 40                                                                        Day 49

Kid in a box

Uncle will have a good helper at the new house

Lil E (or Elizabug) has been a big part of my happiness over the last 50 days. I try to take her once a week when I can so that I can get my baby fix and her mom can finish her dissertation. E and I take on the big city, walk the dog, play at the library, refuse nap time, and generally make fools of ourselves. She brings a joy to me every time. Even when she's grumpy.

Day 41

It would have been my mom's 65th birthday

It has been almost ten years since my Mom passed and this day would have been her 65th birthday. This was the last picture taken with my mother and, though she was very ill at this point, she would fight another 2 years to make sure we were all taken care of. I miss her every day, but I'm glad I had her for the time I did.

Day 43

New hair cut!

I had slipped into the trap of not taking care of myself. I finally decided enough was enough and went to get my hair did.  My hairdresser is a great man who is very knowledgeable about curly hair. I am thankful I found him! He and his wife just had another baby, so he was brimming with father pride. That kind of happiness is contagious.

Day 48

This encouraging piece of graffiti

There are few times that graffiti makes me smile and stop to take a picture, but this one did.  It put a smile on my face for the whole day. I think the artist would be happy with his (or her) efforts.

Day 52

Signs of spring: water channels

I know I said the first 50 days, but I had to include this one.  SPRING IS HERE.  Well, sort of. It has since snowed again and reverted back to winter, but for a few fine days spring was here. We made it.

I cannot tell you all what this project has meant to me. Somedays I didn't have time to take pictures or the thing that made me happy wasn't photographable, but to have the idea in my head to search for something every day that makes me happy has been invaluable.  I think when it's done, I may have to start again!

Check out my entire collection of #100happydays pictures.
Follow me and see them first hand on my Instagram page.

Late night edition of Thankful Thursday

It's snowing on the first day of spring. I have a sinus infection and The Guy has the flu. I've been eating everything that isn't nailed down and my back/neck injury from earlier this month isn't making it easy to do things.

Wait... this is about things I'm thankful for.

FINE.

1. I went to a fantastic training session on being a leader on the front lines. It was a great place to learn about supervising and how it is not about "managing" people, but rather helping them reach their greatest potential. There was also tiny animals to play with and pipe cleaners. Thanks to Pine Tree Management Course!
   

   

   Orangutang of motivation

2. Lil E and I spent the afternoon together again. We took Monty for a walk, we bothered Uncle Wade, we ate the dog's raw hide bone (good for teething!), and then we went to the library where we made best friends with elementary school girls. It was fun and we will do it all again!
   

   

   E stole my rice cold pack and decided it was her best friend.

   
   
3. The house is drywalled and the contractor has asked for our final paint colours. We may be moved in before 2045!
4. It has been 3 weeks since it's been -30 C. So, that's something.
5. I totally nailed that Sudoku puzzle I started tonight. "Gentle" my butt.

Recharging for Thankful Thursday

1. After the worst weekend I've worked in a long time, I've had 3 days to do nothing but nap, eat, nap, watch TV, and walk the dog.


2. The extremely frigid weather broke for a bit. It's meant more snow, but we have been able to go outside and that means more than I can say.
   
   
   
   
   



3. I've had some time to catch up on Walking Dead episodes. Darryl breaks my heart. As my sister said, "He is equally sexy and repugnant, but I love him".






4. Surprising pops of colour in an otherwise white landscape
   
   
   



5. Supper and drinks with friends tonight before I head back to work tomorrow. Bring on the pork ribs!

Most thankfullest of days: Organization, acts of kindness, and colours

I am so busy these days I can hardly keep up, but I haven't been this happy and fulfilled in a long time.  There are still things to work on, but on the whole, life is good. REALLY GOOD.  And, I want to share it with you.

Lake Ontario (pic circa 2012)

1. I am loving my new position at work. I have organized, shredded, written, re-written, and cleaned. I'm in 7th heaven. I'm excited to go to work and have trouble leaving at the end of the night. 
2. This weekend The Guy and I are going to finalize all our paint choices for the house. The basement is framed, electrical is done, plumbing is started, and choice time is coming! It's like Christmas for my inner-interior decorator. Check back for updates on colours next week!!!
   





KB and kids from long ago



3. My good friend, Chris, has started a wonderful project in the name of his late wife and my dear friend, KB.  KB was the kindest person I knew and often went out of her way to be kind for no reason. He has harnessed that in the website: Kindness by KB where he writes of her kindness and encourages all of us to be kind to ourselves, to our people, and to complete strangers. He also started a Facebook page where he (and myself and Wynn Anne) will have daily kindness challenges and reminders. I'm proud of how he is using his love of all things KB to make the world a better place.
4. I finally finished the shawl I started in November. Now on to gloves for The Guy and a hat I promised a co-worker in Dec! (If only I had time to knit!!)
5. I did a silly quiz on Zimbio.com about which HIMYM character I was. I got Lily. This tickled me pink because The Guy got Marshall. I knew we were great together, but being a sitcom couple only solidified it! Over the head high five!!
6. This week (and last weekend) has been wrought with visits of good friends. Here's to more coffees, lunches, and Skype calls!

I live an exciting life: dog toys, laundry, and knitting -- Thankful Thursday

1. My first week back at work in 2 months has been great. I'm feeling really positive and had a fun time. Today at noon, I may hear more good things about work. 
2. I went to bed and woke up with in a pile of toys Monty had amassed during the night. 



Monty's toys

3. I'm almost done our laundry after a week away
4. I've had a lot of knitting time and am almost done a pair of fingerless gloves for a relative and I've got an order from my husband for a pair. The Guy WANTS something I knitted!?!





knitting tweed



5. I made a page to keep all my #100happydays pictures in one place.

My word for the year: Change

I could not have been happier to see 2013 finish. It was a challenging year of "learning" patience,  dealing with disappointment, and facing overwhelming difficulties. There were a lot of positive things too, but I felt completely paralyzed by the difficult things I had a hard time seeing the good.

When 2014 headed our way, I started to feel like something was coming. The first few days showed me exactly what it would be: change.  Two days in and things were already different -- and in a good way. Suddenly, the things that pressed me to the ground were feeling less heavy and more manageable.

I made a decision. This change would not be an isolated incident. It would carry over into everything. Life would be different and possible and exhilarating. 2014 would be the year where change is possible.

Changes in career:

• I've been contracted to do an agency assessment in my chosen field. I'd done a few things like this about 10 years ago and felt I wanted to branch out that way again. I'm excited and nervous and hopeful. I get to travel to 5 different communities and meet a ton of new people and I cannot wait.
• There have been two big changes in my office which will have very positive effects.  There are still many areas of concern, but this is a step in the right direction.

Changes in personal growth:

• I signed up for a writing course. It's year long and online and I could not be more excited. I'm looking forward to learning more about writing -- be it essays, reports, blog posts, fiction -- I cannot wait to get better at it all.
• My wonderful husband, The Guy, gave me a 3 month pass to a yoga studio. I've enjoyed Yoga since I tried it via the Wii, but I wanted to go further and learn more. I'm thrilled. 

Changes in home:

• Our new house will be ready in the spring. We are starting to make plans for paint colours, kitchen cupboards, lighting, etc. I'm excited to do the planning, but will be more excited to get in, get organized, and get settled.

There will be more changes. I am determined to grow and adapt and learn. And, I cannot wait.

Finding joy, choosing joy

When the world seems set on kicking you in the teeth, it is - at times- difficult to find the positive things surrounding you.

This year has been a compilation of things making me want to crawl under the bed and hide. There was a funding scare at my office in the spring, a ton of changes to my schedule through summer, slow development on our house in the fall, and a medical leave from work in the winter. Add that to the last two years of infertility (2011) and losing a job (2012), I am about ready for the tides to turn.

But then I stop to think about the amazing things I have experienced this year.

• My favourite little girl was born and she is SO MUCH TROUBLE.
• I had a wonderful time in Cuba and went snorkelling without panicking once!
• My husband and I celebrated our 6th year of dating and our 4th of marriage. And it's still awesome. When I tell him I love him, he says it's cuz he's wonderful and he's right! (and modest)
• I've gotten to spend time with my Grandma (94) and The Guy's Grandma (91) and they are a hoot. My Grandma learned to use email and Skype. She's very excited.
• We sold our house and started building a new one. In the meantime, we're in the cutest rental that belongs to a girl I used to babysit when I was in high school. 
• Riders won the Grey Cup and we were there for it all. 
• Monty was adorable every day.

The Guy is a good one for reminding me to look beyond the things causing me grief and look towards the things that make our lives worth it all. If it wasn't for the tougher spots, we wouldn't recognize the good. I can count him in my blessing list every day. Except for that one time he ate all the ice cream. 

I have a friend (my dear Gooblet) who daily picks a moment that makes her day the BDE -- best day ever.  She can have a day where everything in it sucks, but she will find the bright spot. Some days I think she's lying, but the point is she tries.

I want to be more like that. I want to look for the joy in my life. I want to choose joy.

Even when the day punches me in the junk, I want to be able to cuddle up with my dog and The Guy and say "This is joy."

Name, rank, disorder: Post from the Past

This post is a combination of two I wrote in September of 2008 
************************************************************

I have a super power. I have an invisible force field around me that draws in people with "issues". They can sense my force field and are inexplicably drawn to me. They pour out all their problems to me as I stand stunned in an aisle at Wal-Mart. They talk to me on the street, on the bus, in restaurants, at coffee shops. I can't do anything about it. I have a sign that flashes above my head in neon reading "Please, tell me your life story, I care. I really do."

I really don't. However, since I can't turn off my sign or stop the drawing energy of my force field, I am compelled to meet a bunch of odd and troubled people. Maybe that is why I went into the field itself -- this way I get paid for what I was already doing for free.

Cuba baby head statue

For the most part, I do care about people and their problems. My family and friends? Heck yes! I want to hear the stories, share experiences and offer advice, etc. Strangers I meet on the street while I am minding my own business?? Not so much. And yet, it is unavoidable.

This is part of the reason I try to avoid downtown. The downtown attracts all the sorts of people one would think it does. Along with the hipsters, the artists, the yuppies, the cool people, it also draws the street people and the crazies. And sometimes, both in one.

I work in a place where I come in contact with street people on a regular basis. They may not know "me" as a civilian, but rather only can place me when I am filling my occupational role. I am cool with that. However, I still run into them in my non-work hours. I never seek them out, I only acknowledge them when they do me (that's the rule I follow) but I do stumble across them.

I had a run in with an interesting young man who introduced himself to me in one breath."Hi, my name is Jacob* and I have a mental health disorder and a low IQ." I had to pause at that. It is not the first time I have come across someone who has introduced themselves like that. They provide their name and a run down of their challenges, illnesses and disabilities.

"Hi, I'm Gladys and I'm bipolar."
"I'm Bob, I have HepC. This is Janey. She's slow."

It's very interesting what people identify themselves as being. I think we should all do that. I've decided to introduce myself to new people this way.
"Hi! I'm Bronwyn. I'm an emotional eater and have unresolved issues of rage."

Imagine how free our society would be.

"I'm Bill. I wet my bed until I was 15."
"Hi, I'm Maisey. I'm into necrophilia."
"Hello, I'm Gerald. I have uncontrollable flatulence and a mother complex."

How would you introduce yourself?


*Names and disorders have been changed to protect any privacy issues that may arise.

My imaginary life: what I want to be

In getting my writing mojo (and all other mojo) back on track, I started reading a book that has made the rounds here and there in the last 10 years or so. (It might be more, I can't be bothered to look.)  It's called The Artist's Way and it's about self-discovery and all that.  I find the author a little "fluffy" but the ideas behind it are sound.

One challenge is to figure out what is blocking you from being the best and most creative person you can be. Every day, you are encouraged to write 3 pages of free flowing writing.  The idea to this is there is a lot of messed up crap inside our heads that needs to be tossed out. If we write it out first thing in the morning and never look at it again, we have clean space for the positive things.

I like it.



There are also tasks to complete each week. This week's question was:

If you had 5 alternate lives to create, what would you be in each of them?

I thought you might be interested in hearing my answers.

1. Writer -- I think I have always wanted to write. I remember finding a story I had written where the narrator was an old woman who was writing about being a writer even though no one read what she wrote. That is where my heart is in a lot of ways and yet I've never explored it beyond the walls of the internet.  I would like to write books and books and books and have people be touched by what I write, whether it is silly fiction or heartbreaking. 
2. Interior Designer -- I love choosing paint colours and themes. I always thought I would like to do that all the time. Pinterest helps. It's like designing a million rooms for a million people and never having to leave the house.
3. Police Officer -- This is the closest to real life. I really did intend to be a police officer when I started out.  I'm thankful it didn't work out that way, (especially after the *^R% polygraph) but the thought of putting on a uniform and a gun appeals to me still. When I was a teen, there was a period of time I wanted to be a sniper. I think that scared a lot of people.
4. Singer -- I like to sing. The Guy doesn't think I'm particularly good at it, but he's tone deaf, so I forgive him. In my perfect alternate reality, my sisters and I are a trio singing folk gospel type music. My youngest sister is the melody, while my middle sister and I sing duelling harmonies.  We would make Naomi Judd weep with jealousy.
5. Barrista -- This one might give you all pause. However, here is why. I love being a clerk in a service industry.  Not a restaurant or anything complicated, but a coffee shop would be perfect. A quick chat with customers, familiarity and humour, then get their stuff quick as a bunny and off they go. It's the perfect length of social interaction for me. (PS, I wrote barrista instead of coffee wench because it makes The Guy's head explode.)

So there it is. A list of what I want to be in a different life. Most of it is beyond my reach or will or ability. However, I could totally be a coffee wench. If only I could make a decent wage. You guys would tip well, right?

Quick! What would you be in your imaginary lives?

Radio silence

I've been quiet this past week. Apart from my rant against forced sexiness and my fingerless mittens pattern, I have struggled to write anything.

I promised myself I would not write if it was only to complain and not: a) be funny about it, or b) have a solution about it.  I also promised I would not write about work in any real or present way.

That made this last week one of enforced blog silence.

I have a difficult time writing when I am in the throws of something bad. Afterwards, I have no problem. I can see the end of it all and I have really great ability to deconstruct things once they are completed. Then I have wit and insight and understanding.

Until then, I'm just effing miserable.

However.

Since last week, I have gone back to seeing a counsellor. I have started a new series of books I am highly entertained by.  I have started reading a book on getting past hurts, unblocking myself from them, and finding a way to be creative while doing so. I have started cooking more things (more on that tomorrow... oy vey.)

I will likely have to start and restart things over and over again. But, I'm going to keep doing them.

Hard headed: my first assault on the job

My job with the public in human (social) services has been one filled with adventure and amusement. Most people hear about my work and wonder what kind of person I am to love it as much as I have. Crisis work has lead me to a personal body count, a knowledge of breaking into buildings, and more than one assaults on my person.

None of them are serious, so don't panic.

One of my favourite stories (apart from the time I watched the SWAT team clear a house) is from my first year in the field when I was assaulted.  By an old man.

Two old friends. Not my assailants.

I was green as the grass when I first started working at an advocacy agency that has long since been closed. My job was to go house to house and assess the living conditions. Our clients were poorest of the poor in terrible living conditions which they sometimes left worse.  On the off chance they didn't and were accused of it any way, I was there to make sure there was a record.

One day, I was visiting the home of a middle aged woman. Because of limited resources and a perceived lack of danger, I was on my own that day. I was not a threat, so thus was not considered likely to be threatened. I had already done many assessments without trouble.

I entered the house and was met by the woman at the door. On an old dilapidated couch, sat two old men whom she introduced as her uncles. I introduced myself, explained why I was present, and went about wandering the home looking for things.

Innocuous, right?

One of the old men didn't think so. He did not like a young, naive, bubbly white girl wandering around "judging" things. He mumbled about spoiled brats like me and told me I should get out. The woman told him to be quiet and encouraged me to get my assessment done. I wasn't worried and continued about my way.

I was dumb like that.

Looking back, I'm sure the old man was drunk as a rat. At the time, it didn't dawn on me. I was still learning about the ins and outs of poverty and how people coped with that life.  Now, I would have backed out of the house and made arrangements to come back. No big deal.

I continued my assessment - making notes on my clipboard (oh, Social Workers and their infernal clipboards) - and turned to go into another room.  I heard some motion and a slight whistling noise.

It didn't register what was happening until something thunked against my skull. It didn't hurt, but I whipped around nonetheless.  On the floor beside me was an empty, plastic lotion bottle. The kind with the blue twist on pump.

The old man had hurled it across the room and hit me in the head.  However, being that he was old and likely inebriated - and the bottle was empty and plastic - it barely made to to me and lightly bounced off my skull.

I did what any normal person would do. I burst out laughing.

It must have been the right thing to do because everyone laughed. I finished up my assessment and, when I left, I got a handshake and an offer of a hug.

I love my line of work.

Itsh nisch to meetsh you

I have had pretty good luck with my teeth over the years. Apart from at least one cavity every year since I was betoothed, I have had great teeth. Straight, relatively clean, sharp, usable teeth. I was one of the lucky ones who never needed braces or elastics, retainers or head gear.

Source of these teeth

Since I've become an adult, one problem has arisen. I grind my teeth. Every night, I work at making my teeth into tiny stumps of ineffectual calcium. I grind and clench and squeak my teeth together.  This causes headaches, neck aches, migraines, and jaw pain. The muscles in my jaw are so tight they have relaxed exactly 3 times in the last 10 or so years.

Now, I have no idea if I've always been a clencher/grinder or if it is a relatively new phenomenon. All I know is I have woken not only myself, but other people from down the hall up with my teeth. Maybe I've been doing this all my life, or maybe it's a newly acquired habit, but all I could say is it needed to quit.

First, I was given a night guard by one very lovely dentist who held my hand and assured me everything would be fine. I chewed through the guard in less than 6 months. I got another one made of tougher material. Thankfully, it lasted a lot longer, but I also got married and forgot to put it in some nights.  Night guards are not sexy.  You've seen the scene from Date Night, right?

I've been to physiotherapy. I've had acupuncture. I've been referred to get Botox to freeze my muscles into relaxation.  (I didn't do that. When I get Botox, I want it to be for something awesome.)

For the last few months, I've been going to a new dentist. She is a good friend and I adore her. This causes me a great deal of contradictions as I normally loathe all dentists. Her, though? She's good people.  She has a plan.  A little retainer to wear 24/7 that will retrain my jaw to the correct position and change the way my jaw muscles behave.

On Monday, I got my little device fitted. It slips over my bottom back teeth and hugs snugly. It has a teeny lip that goes over my bottom front teeth and is "hardly noticeable".  You know, except for the fact it feels like I have a hockey puck in my mouth and I am lisping like I have a forked tongue.

So, of course, I went straight from the dentist to work. As a crisis counsellor and child protection worker. Because, nothing is better for clear communication than having a large plastic device taking up all your tongue room. (That's what she said.)

Standing on the porch of a house, a client turned to me after I tried repeatedly to explain why I was there and said "What? I can't understand you? Why can't you talk right?"

Thisch isch going to take awhile.

Liar, Liar: my experience with polygraph

As I mentioned last week, I had a do a polygraph. I still haven't heard the results, but I can only guess how they went.  The instructor assured me that I would decide the outcome of the polygraph, but there are many problems with that theory so I'm just happy no one has arrested me.  Yet.

Not that I have done anything really wrong.  Well, REALLY wrong. You don't know what kind of a horrible person you are until you have to really think about it and then spill it all for a stranger.  Then you are surprised with yourself that you haven't done hard time before.

I went into the building expecting the worst. Surprisingly enough, it was worse than that. I was coming down with a cold (and then pink eye!) but I hadn't slept well that night.  This is not surprising. I spent over a decade making sure I could stay up all night. When I have to be somewhere before noon, my body makes sure it is NOT TIRED AT ALL. But, I knew it was my only chance and I wouldn't sleep any better if we rescheduled.  In I went.

This has nothing to do with anything. Isn't it pretty?

The procedure for this test is to fill in a 31 page questionnaire prior to attending. It questions everything you have ever done that is wrong, illegal, immoral, or a mix of all three.  Then, you stew about and remember even more. When you enter the polygraph area, you then sit down with the administrator and go over it all again.

In detail. With examples. And you spill.  EVERY. LITTLE. THING.  All those things you wanted to keep secret? You don't.  All those things you are embarrassed about? You tell.  All those things you didn't realize were actually crimes? You admit to doing all the time.  You talk and talk and talk. AND TALK.

This part was 6 hours. Every time I answered a question, he would ask "What else?" which made me think he knew something that I didn't, so I would rack my brain trying to think of something else I had done. Usually he moved us on, realizing that despite some of my escapades, I am essentially boring. But I told everything. EVERYTHING. And you know? It wasn't that hard.

The guy was very likeable though intense. He admitted to hearing so many confessions as part of his job that nothing surprised him or embarrassed him. He also admitted he would not likely remember anything I said for very long, so should we meet in the hallway I don't have to duck behind a potted plant. This I took as a good sign.

These leaves represent every thing I told.

Finally, the hook up. It took about 5 minutes to get the contraption settled on my body and ready to read my every movement. It measured heart rate, breath rate, blood pressure, etc. My hand was numb before we even started, but that was normal. And then, the questions.

Other than what I had admitted to [in this area] did I do anything else?

That and a handful of test questions repeated over and over and over again. By this time, I was tired. Hungry. Annoyed. Exhausted. And honestly? BORED. I have never had to talk about myself that long before. Honestly, I love to talk about myself. Just ask me!! But I felt like, if I had to answer another damn question again, I would go mental.  But I did it. And the longer I did it, the more paranoid I became that I was forgetting something or that it would read my nervousness and boredom and exhaustion.

Half an hour later, he asks if I neglected to tell him something. Nope. Not at all. Was I thinking about anything during the questions on [insert topic]? NO!!! Of course not! I mean, had it been about homicide, I might have wondered if thinking actually DID count for something, but that? No.

Well, I "blipped" on one part. The one part I know I had nothing more to share.  The one part I know I had nothing to admit to. And that was the one I blipped on. We left it there, him telling me he would send my results to HR. That was it.

I left the room and was escorted to finger printing. The wonderful man who took my prints (and also was like the Jolly Giant) asked if I was okay. I said I wasn't really sure. He let me in on a secret - most the women burst into tears as soon as the polygraphist left the room. I admitted, I was waiting for when I got to my car. I was a nervous wreck, but it was that gentle, HUGE man who made me centre again. I owe him a drink for that.

So, I haven't heard anything yet. I expect I will eventually. Unless they have decided I'm a hardened criminal. And then, I might hear the slamming of metal doors.

Would I lie to you?

I'm a pretty open person. I've never had a personal thought I haven't felt the need to share with someone. I will tell you about all the dumb or mean things I've done. I will tell you about the time I nearly pooped in public. I have no shame nor privacy.

Tomorrow, I am going to have to test that.

In attempting to broaden my career, I have applied for a job that requires more screening than the CIA and all the airports in the world. It seems to be a thousand step process and I am enjoying them all so far. I do appreciate they do not want bad people working for them and I have no problem submitting to all their questions and things.

So, when I answered the 31 page questionnaire asking about all the bad, dumb, illegal, and/or immoral things I'd ever done, I thought "I can do this! I tell people this without them even asking!"

I did not do this graffiti.

And so tomorrow, I will be hooked up to a polygraph and I will share my deepest secrets with a stranger. For 6 hours.

Now, you think you're an open person until you start thinking for weeks about the questions they asked and how you will have to admit to the bad and/or illegal things you have ever done all while being judged if they are too bad for you to work with the public.

I will have to look a complete stranger in the eye and talk about the time I stole a pad of paper when I was 17. Not to mention other things I do not plan to mention on this site or anywhere else because I didn't know it was bad and it's super embarrassing that it was bad and I will have to tell this stranger all about it.  Awesome.

I expect I will be mortified throughout the entire process and will never share anything with anyone again. I think the only one who will be relieved by that will be The Guy.

I MayB dog tired

Anyone who knows me knows I work shift work.  Each week is a new set of shifts to make my own personal time zone. I've always said it's like I've been jet-lagged for 14 years.

Add that to the fact I have never been a good sleeper and I am a bit of a zombie.

This does not stop me from trying to be über productive even when I'm on nights like I have been this week.  I seem to think scheduling something in the middle of my "night" is a perfectly reasonable thing to do.

I am not very bright.

This week, because I picked up an extra shift, I will work 5 night shifts in a row.  Every single day I have had an appointment some time in the middle of the afternoon.  Something I could not possibly move or miss or sleep through.

Did I mention I'm starting to see things?

Not really, but you get my point.

Today. TODAY. Today is the first day of 4 where I will be able to sleep for as long as I want to. I can lounge in bed with the dog while he gets his second full night's sleep (he's like a Hobbit with breakfasts. Second bedtime is his favourite) and I can sleep and sleep and sleep.

Napping with his favourite chew bone. If he could do both, he would.

Don't be alarmed if you can hear snoring.

I owe it all to my Mom and Mavis Beacon

I am working on a "project" where I need to prove my typing speed.  Once I have more solid information on said project, I will expand.  However, for now, I will just tell you I had to go and take a typing test from a recognized agency that will provide me with a certificate of my skillz.

Yes, skillz.  Typing be all gangsta, yo.

I was trying it out.  I will stop now.

It has often been suggested to me I have been in the wrong line of work.  Sure "helping people" is noble and all, but my passions lie in other places. I love to organize, to file, to photocopy! Don't even get me started on creating spreadsheets. SWOON!  I inherited all these dorky traits from my mother.  She went to secretarial school, aced it, became valedictorian, and then took over the world.

Despite my love of all things secretarial, I never took a typing class.  When I was in school we were moving from typing on actual typewriters (I'm THAT old) to using computers.  I learned how to make my Commodore 64 scroll endless "I love Brad"s across the screen but never learned proper finger placement for the keyboard.  I think I took Home EC instead.  You can see that has really served me well.

When my family finally got a computer at home I would have been about 15 or so.  We had three things we could do on that computer: use the word processor, play Hugo III: Jungle of Doom, or use the typing teacher tool by Mavis Beacon. (Aside: did you know Mavis Beacon isn't even a real person? CHILDHOOD RUINED.)

Mavis Beacon Teaches Typing was the only other thing on our computer.  Once I had rescued Hugo's girlfriend from the jungle, there was really little else to do but sit in front of Mavis and follow the instructions.  Words would fall out of the sky and you had to type them before they hit the ground.  It was all very exciting.

Might I mention, this was the early 90s.  We had nothing else going on.

Fast forward many years, I have used my Mavis born typing skills to create hundreds and hundreds of reports.  Co-workers have always teased me about my typing speed because most of them have done the hunt and peck variety of one digit typing.  Once, I even had a client yell at me for typing too loud and too fast while she gave me information.  I figured I was just average.

This week, I scheduled my typing test and went in to take it.  I was nervous.  I had never tried to type in front of anyone for any real reason. I sat down and was faced with copying two paragraphs in a constant loop (much like my Commodore) for two separate 5 minute tests.

I sat down at a strange computer, strange keyboard, and strange surroundings.  I could only backspace and couldn't point and click onto a mistake if it happened way before.  I sat stick straight, breathed deeply, and put my fingers on the "f" and the "j".  I harnessed my inner Mom and Mavis mojo and went for it.

I came out with 62 words/minute on the first trial and 60 on the second.  Accuracy rate was 98%.  I left there with wings on my shoes and a feeling of accomplishment.  I can't do much else in life, but I can make the keyboard fly!

The Guy said he wasn't surprised I did so well.  He has seen me "angry type" before and is more shocked my keyboard doesn't burst into flames.

Next time, I will get really mad before hand and see if I can get my speed up to 70!

What about the a**holes?

Sitting over a fantastic lunch with my friend Ariann, we talked seriously about the struggles in our lives and how we deal with them in the most positive ways we can.  I always appreciate talking to someone who is very different from me -- Ariann is happy and gracious and kind and SO HAPPY (even when she's not) -- because I am reminded to look at things in other ways.  Having someone who can say "Wait, did you think about it this way?" is always a good experience.  I love talking to her about things -- from family, to relationships, to careers, to spirituality.  We have a ton of fun and also come to brilliant and thoughtful conclusions.

So, when we talked about our current struggles, she presented something to me I had not thought of before. I explained how some less than desirable behaviours of a few key people were making things extremely difficult in my life.  This is when Ariann exclaimed, "How terrible it must be to be them!"

I had never thought about it that way.

I always focus on the victims in a situation.  It's who I am and what I do.  From the time I was old enough to think, I was standing in between a bully and a victim as often as I could.  I always looked at the effects on the person or group that was targeted.  I've never looked at the aggressor.  When she said, "How horrible must it be to cause people that much pain?", I had to stop cold and think.

I know when I do something wrong that effects other people, I feel terrible. I mull it over, I fret about it, I dream about it, I talk about it.  All the time.  I once did something to someone when I was 19 working at Zellers.  To this day, I feel guilty about it and my stomach hurts when I think about it.  You know what I did? I drank some pop from a guy's soda when he left the room.

I drank some Coke that wasn't mine and almost 20 years later I could vomit right now. (Side note: Yes, I'm aware I need therapy.)

I know many people who are the cause of other people's pain do not know what they do.  Some who do, may not care.  Others may not recognize their roles until much too late.  But any way you slice it, how unhappy are you that you cause misery for others?  How sad is that?  Even if it does not take away what is wrong nor does it make it okay that it occurred (or continues) it is an interesting thought.  The people making your life miserable may regret it and, if they don't, they still are living with the consequences of being evil asshats.

While I'm not yet willing to sweep it all under the rug or sing Kumbya while growing my armpit hair, I am trying to view things differently.  I'm not sure what actions I will put in place to accommodate my alternate thinking pattern, but it's a step.

Look at me.  I'm growing.

Right now, I think I will settle for no longer wishing bodily harm to those who have crossed me.

You're welcome.

What to do when you fail

I have been struggling with my professional life for some time now.  The work itself is rewarding despite everyone else thinking I'm either a) insane, or b) a saint for working in a tough job and often with kids in even tougher situations.  Regardless of being either or both, it's a job I've loved for well over a decade.

The office? Not so much.

For the last 4 years, the office and the powers that be have not made it easy, or even desirable, to work there.  Injustice after injustice have occurred with no consequence or recompense.  For a long time, I fought and fought and fought to stand up against the things I knew to be wrong.

It was exhausting.

Last year, in the fall, I got a chance to work for a friend and I thought the change would be amazing.  It sounded right up my alley -- responding on an emergency basis and referring to appropriate channels.  Day shifts!  Regular hours! An office to call my own!  I jumped at the chance, nailed the interview, bought a whole new wardrobe and started a few weeks later.

It did not go well.

It was a small office with definite "rules" that seemed to change daily.  I had a hard time fitting in after years of saying what I thought, not putting up with stupid things, and being very independent.  One person (my friend) decided she didn't like me after all and she was the person who mattered.

Five weeks start to finish and I was let go.

I was devastated.  I hung my head in shame and went back to my old job. My pride (personal and professional) was beaten and it took awhile before I could be okay with the fact some people just don't like me.  I haven't forgiven the woman who I'd considered a friend, but I'm working on it.

There were positive lessons gained from the ordeal.  I learned I hate day shifts. I am not a M-F 8-5 girl and I don't think I could be.  I did sleep better, but I went to bed super early so had very little time just to hang out.  I apparently need a LOT of time to hang out.  I found myself a bit tense and edgy at the lack of rejuvenating moments.  I do love my leisure time.

I learned that one day person and one stupid-early-hours person do not see enough of each other. Sure, I might live longer in the end, but working night shifts allowed me to be at home the same time as my husband. We spend a lot of time together in the afternoons so losing that was a huge kick to our relationship.

Now I'm back at my old job. Same issues, same concerns, same bullshit.  However, I'm different. I'm not as overly involved as I had been. I stepped out of some roles and it has preserved my sanity for awhile. I am cautiously looking for another job -- one I would be good at and where they will like me -- and I'm hoping I find something.

If not, I'm still doing work I love.  I can wade through the crap for now.

That has to mean something.