An Update!

* We didn’t officially “cut the cord” on our cable….we just made the cord shorter.  We downgraded to the basic of the basic cable which is ~20 channels, all of them broadcast except for the home shopping and government in action channels.  We went this route because it was cheaper when bundling it with our internet.  Crazy.  It would have been more expensive to drop the TV and just have the internet – which I think is just plain nuts.  And Highway to Heaven is not among the shows.  I did get a streaming subscription to Netflix.  Dragnet, here I come!

* I still haven’t found my keys.

* Theodore and I are still seeing each other (aka Mr. Roosevelt).  It usually doesn’t take me so long to go through a book; its long and heavy and I wish I could talk to someone who was around when he was President – like one of my ancestors – to see what they thought of it all.  He sounds great!  But it’s also his point of view.  And I’m not much into politics.  I’m ready for it to be over.

* Summer is here!!!!  I spent all weekend at the beach and otherwise being warm.  Amazing.  I have waited so long fort his.

* I celebrated 10 years in my career over fondue with The General. 10 down, 35 more to go!

* The General and I ordered a stuffed-crust pizza from Pizza Hut.  The General had never had one, I hadn’t had one since the 90’s.  It was so worth it the calorie bomb.  I also made those “peel and bake” chocolate chip peanut butter cookies.  Those little buggers are evil at 80 calories/cookie (especially when you eat nearly a dozen).  I did all of this on the same night.  Luckily, they came with this little AED device….

And that about sums it up.


The Good Life

I would just like to state that I love my new job.

While I am performing many of the same functions as I did with my former employer, it is in a vastly different environment.  For example:

  • I have not once slammed down the phone and said the F word.
  • I am doing about 1/32 of the work that I used to be doing.  This is not a complaint, it is merely an observation (now I understand the pay decrease).
  • My co-workers (all women) have yet to throw any knives in each other’s back.  Actually, quite the opposite: they compliment someone’s character/work ethic when they’re not in the room.

I must admit I am liking this change.  I’m slowly getting used to “normal people stuff.”  I haven’t had a schedule like this since high school, so it’s really throwing me for a loop.  My sleeping patterns are almost to where they need to be.  I was a zombie for 1st few days.  One cannot go to bed at 0200 when one must be awake and function (and is no longer a college student) at 0600.  The General and I have played tennis – lots of fun – and it’s been great.  Dinner together – in our kitchen! – that wasn’t planned in advance.  It’s pretty sweet.  I miss my morning catching waves, but tonight I headed down to KB, hoping to beat the high tide.  No dice.  It was really odd to face the horizon and have the sun in my eyes, though. (An older gentleman saw me walking onto the beach with my board and he shook his head.  “You should have been here 2 hours ago!”  “I know,” I sighed.)

The new schedule has it’s sweet parts too:  I wake up about 45 minutes early to have my quiet time with the Lord.  My devo, Bible, and Bibel — an English Bible and a German Bible.  I’m starting to be able to read scripture in German – most of the time I have to cross reference it with my English one so I know what’s being said.  The scripture the Lord puts on my heart, I write in my journal.  The past few days I’ve written it in German — sometimes with an English translation if it’s difficult vocabulary.  I’ve decided to buy a German/English parallel Bible next month.  Very excited about having the verses in both languages side by side!

My favorite part of the German bible?  Germans have 2 tenses: formal and informal.  You use formal to show reverence, people who are above you, strangers, elders — it basically shows respect.  There is also the informal, which you use among family, friends, and members of the opposite sex if you’ve kissed them!  Every time the Disciples speak to Jesus or He speaks to them, it’s in the informal form.  It makes my heart smile.  He truly is personal and our Heavenly Father.  How beautiful is that?

So, as far as I can tell, this job change has been such a Godsend, coupled with the fact that I have less stress…..amazing.  Life is good.

An answer to a prayer

It’s really nifty how the crucible I’ve been in for the past couple of years has turned fruitful.  The furnace that I found myself working in turned out it was only refining me, not trying to burn me down.

I got a new job. <insert jumping up and down here>

I found this job on a whim as I was perusing local establishments that would employ people such as myself.  I emailed my resume and they requested an interview; they were calling my references within hours of my interview that I felt I did fairly well.  The job is a trade-off: Less $, better hours, less stress, better life (whereas now I have decent $, meh hours, lots of stress, and a not so good life).  And the real kicker: it’s a 9-5 job.  Never EVER worked a 9-5 job before.  I’ve worked on call, 2nd shift, 3rd shift, hybrids of everything —- but never normal people hours.  I’m 30 and I’m just now feeling like I’m a real adult.  It’s a niche of my profession, that I will confess, is not my strong suit.  It’s always been a struggle for me, but in the past year or so, I’ve gotten really good at this particular task simply because there was no one else to rely on: it was sink or swim.  And I swam.  I’m still not the best (read: The General), but I can hold my own on days when I’m feeling confident – anxiety still gets the best of me sometimes.  Of course, I’ll be trained and the people I’m working with have been doing this for quite some time so I’ll have back up!

What does this mean?  Dawn patrol — or, rather surfing at sunrise.  I love watching the sunrise when I worked nights — I’d keep the same schedule on my days off.  And now all my running and surfing will have to be done during the week in the wee hours of the morning. It won’t be so bad — at least until winter hits — and then I’ll truly become a fair weather surfer.

I am starting my last week with my current employer – they were all shocked I was leaving!  I was shocked they were shocked, but then I realized they don’t have access to my inner monologue.  Or my blog, for that matter.  For being a techie, I’m a good actress apparently.  Even now, to both old and new workplaces, I keep saying, “I need a change, I need to go in a different direction in my career.”  Keepin’ it positive.  Heh.

And so, on to the next.

It’s a name changer

It’s been interesting in my head lately. I feel the winds of change drifting the sands in my world. It’s a season, no doubt, but I’m still trying to get my footing.

Work has been especially trying. With all the changes, I’m not sure where my place is anymore. I’m grateful for the new help, but now I feel I’m displaced, a cog in the wheel – on the fringe of what’s going on. I don’t know where I fit in the big picture. I find out things by corperate email, not in a txt msg like the others. Meh. It is what it is.

We have a new person coming to our shift who has nearly the same name I do – just one letter different. My manager confuses us, calling me by her name. When the phone rings, its hard to hear who its for now, let alone with 1 vowel different. It’s a Jenny v. Jenna conundrum.

My solution? Returning to my nickname I had since I was 12 – Jen. I went by my full name after college because it sounds more professional and the nickname is often a boy’s name – wanted to clear up that confusion. Also, it doesn’t roll off your tongue as well with my married surname. In the interest of clearer communications, I’m ready to go back.

No one, save for The General and Pat, call me that here. A new friend asked what I prefer being called after hearing Pat call me 1 thing and others call me another. It caught me off guard – its been so long since I had a conversation about that.

There are people in Illinois who only know me as “Jen” – I’m sure they know my full name, but never use it. I’ve started mentioning, “I also go by Jen” and some have started using it at work. It’s a bit of a time warp for me, but with all the other changes (like hopefully a new job – I applied again yesterday), why not change the very essence of me? It’s only a name, a label to define me, legally and metaphysically. I really do like the nickname, its just I’m not who I used to be with that name. My maiden name became my middle name because I didn’t want to shed my identity of 27 years. My birth middle name was a bland form of assonance I was more than willing to part with.

Another change, another name. I’m sure Simon Peter had the same problem. The bigger question is, should I change it in Facebook?

Turn and face the strange

My prayers have been answered: the ebb and flow of my line of work is in motion again.  A position is opening up in another area of my department – ironically enough – my 1st love, the one part of this job that sucked me into this career.  It’s a specialized department; as of right now, I’m what’s referred to as a “generalist” – jack of all trades, master of none.

This new job would require me to learn a bunch of new skills and be normal people hours – something I have not experienced in my career thus far.  I always chase the sun, it seems, and these skills I haven’t exercised since my 300 level college class a decade ago.  I’m super excited.  Beyond excited.  While it’s not a sure thing I get the gig, I managed to hear about the job before there was an email sent about it, which is odd for me: I’m not connected in the gossip chain.  I spoke with the supervisor of the department who commented that he would love to bring me on board.  So far, he’s kept me abreast of where the position is in the HR dance.  Rumor has it that next week it will be posted.  I’m going nuts waiting.

Part of this change is because I officially hate where I’m at now.

I figured it out over a lunch outing with my co-workers: my shift is now 100% female.  When I was an intern, I worked in a place where it was all female.  And it sucked.  Everyone walked around with knives in their back.  It was catty.  People undermined each other.  I know part of it is me: I love men.  I’ve always been one of the guys.  I would much rather be the only girl than one of the girls.  I don’t fit in most of the time (okay, all the time) with groups of girls.  There are exceptions to that rule, of course, but they are far and few between.

With our new supervisor and the new people coming aboard, I think they’re wonderful.  They’re smart.  They’re hard working, they know when to have fun and when to work.  Much like my bouncer experience at church, nothing has been said or done to me that would cause me to think that I’ve purposely been excluded.  Well, perhaps the cellphone thing.  Everyone has everyone else’s phone number.  And they text a lot at work when someone is off for the day.  Or on another department.  I don’t have anyone’s number. I wasn’t asked.  I didn’t ask.  Meh.  When I’m not at work, I don’t want to know what’s going on at work.  As The General said when I 1st met him (haha, at work) he said, “I like to keep my work life and my life life separate.”  Well, he married a co-worker, but we stayed professional at work.  Most people didn’t know we were married until after a few months when someone would overhear us talking about a grocery list.

It doesn’t help matters that my angst is now starting to manifest itself outwardly.  I was a bitch the other night to anyone who dared cross my path.  My supervisor said she didn’t get any phone calls from where I was working (this department loves to call the supervisor with, “They’re not working fast enough.  They’re not playing nice.” )   I felt terrible.  I hate being the person that I’ve become.  The past year has beat me into the ground.  And the worst part is that I let it beat me.  I now am fearing I won’t get this position because I have had such an awful attitude and I’m an overall bitch.  Maybe I’m just hard on myself.  But in my profession, people talk. As I said at lunch with the group: “It’s a [my place of work].  If you have a secret you don’t want anyone to know, tell no one.”  My profession makes hair dressers look like saints compared to how we gossip.

Such is life.

I need a change and certainly hope this is the ticket; simple because I can’t keep doing what I’m doing.  It’s not working.  It’s actually getting harder.  And not being one of the cool kids isn’t helping matters.

Better than the real thing

It’s been said that once you experience the real thing, you’ll never go back to the imitation.  It could be said about vanilla extract, Jesus, true love,  –

and coffee.

I haven’t been a coffee drinker since I was a 3rd shifter back in my Illinois daze.  I started again, but this time, with the good stuff from Costa Rica.  Whole bean.  Yes, I grind my own.  And keep aliquots of it in the freezer, already set up in the filter.  I’m not one for bitter tastes, so I’ve started using a natural flavored creamer (ingredients include heavy cream and sugar); since it’s already spiked with sugar, I don’t have to add any.  It is heaven.  I crave it during the day.  Unfortunately, I crave it at night. It’s just an all around amazing treat – it’s more than that – it’s an experience.

While I usually don’t have enough time to drink a cuppa at work, our office recently got a conditional Keurig coffeemaker (I say conditional because our director, who bought it as a way to praise the staff for a job well done, said if our “goals” slip, she’s taking away the Keurig because (and I quote), “I found what is valuable to everyone and this it is how you treat children: take away something they want when they misbehave.”  Luckily, I was raised to smile and nod when upper management says something like that.  The inner me thought a bunch of F bombs).

Anyway, I bought some  Keurig cups for work as well as those little cups of creamer that can be kept at room temperature.  We have a fridge I could keep real creamer in, but food has a way of disappearing in that fridge, not to mention there is probably bacteria in there that should be a Biolevel 3 lab at the CDC with the likes of TB, SARS, and yellow fever.  It’s my personal rule that I will not use that fridge.  My 1st cuppa was TERRIBLE.  The creamer left little chunks in the coffee (clouds in my coffee, clouds in my coffee?)  It tasted fake.  It didn’t roll on my tongue with a wave of awesomeness like the coffee I just made this morning did.  It was, in a word, disgusting.  I couldn’t even enjoy it.

What can I say?  I love the real thing.  And I can compost my used coffee and filter.

I gave my Keurig cups to The General for his use at work and left my creamer by the Keurig with “ENJOY!” on it.  I know it will be put to good use by  my fellow co-workers.

I guess it’s good to know that the coffeemaker I got in the “divorce” settlement from my roommate in college works better for me than a $200 fancy coffeemaker.  I’m going to keep making coffee the way it was meant to be enjoyed.


The Party

I’m not much of a partier, but a friend from work was having a “let’s blow off steam” party at his house.  He’s a really sweet guy and I thought it would be a fun event.  I grabbed The General after work and we headed over to the other side of town for the festivities.

I think I’m too adult.  It wasn’t an adult party.  It was a college party with veins of work.  And oh my goodness.

We arrived at the house, mind you, where 3 recent college grad boys live.  It was a quintessential college boy house: sparsely furnished, decorated with beer posters, a beer pong table, and an epic patio that made me jealous (hello hottub!).  It was clean, but obvious there was no female influence.

Everyone, except me and 2 other people who were driving, were drunk.  It got loud.  Really loud.  I’m surprised the cops weren’t called for noise ordinance violation.  The fun part came when we were around the fire pit out back: one of my quiet co-workers was beyond drunk and talking loud about everything.  Once I joined the circle, I quickly became a topic of conversation.  “You know who hates your guts?” she asked.  Uh-oh.  And then she proceeds to tell me about all the knives in my back.  Wonderful, just what I wanted to hear.

Oh, the truth serum of alcohol.

It got better: next topic of conversation was my butt.  For those of you who don’t know me, I’ve got a big rear end.  I’m a pear shape body.  My hip measurements are 40″.  Yes, I’m bigger than Jennifer Lopez and Kim Kardashian by a few inches.  My black co-worker summed it up: “You’re built like a black woman.”  I started laughing.  I laughed because I knew it was true.  I am.  Then they all joked that it’s what attracted my husband to me.  A “Woo!” from The General across the way made everyone bust out laughing.

After awhile, I turned into the den mom.  “You’re not having another beer until you finish this glass of water, ” I said to drunk girl who was enlightening me about who is upset with me, as she’s attempting to open a pop cap on a beer bottle with a kitchen knife.  Luckily the host picked up on it and made her a gin and tonic with a lime…..and no gin.  She didn’t know the difference.  We smiled knowingly at each other.  Even though he was drunk, he still had a frame of mind to keep his eye on what was going on.  I cleaned up the kitchen.  I reset the time on the microwave so it matched the stove.  I got cornered by a drunk stranger who was a few inches from my face spouting off racial issues.  It was quite a night!

The night had it’s success:  I found a penny in the bathroom.  After talking with another co-worker in another department, I found that she traveled to Germany and speaks a little German!  Sweet!  I have someone to talk to in German now!

We left around 2am and finally made it to bed around 0330.

Yup, college party.  Stone cold sober.

These apples have worms

As the good Lord knows, sometimes it takes a bit of fire under me to get me to move.  I’m a stubborn broad and when I find something I like, I usually am content to stick with it; that includes husbands, wine, running routes, and ordering the same thing at restaurants.

If you’ve read any of my ramblings in the past year, you’ll notice a trend where I am discontent with my job.  I love what I do – my chosen field suits me well and I’m to the point where I’m an expert in it.  The problem doesn’t lie with the line of work, but instead my employer and the fatuous management system it employes.  Our biggest issues could be solved, but those who have the ability to solve said problems won’t because they’re in the business of not upsetting anyone’s apple cart.  Changing the norms is not acceptable.  People will be angry.  Apples will be everywhere.  We can’t have that.  Our expense reports show that we’re right on track; so what if you’re using 3 people to do the job of 6 with a heavy workload?  The numbers are great at the end of the day.  Would you like another apple to put in your cart?

I can’t change things because I have no authority.  I am a worker bee and I am content to be one.  After hearing about another harebrained scheme that would negatively affect myself and my co-workers, I got mad.  Real mad.  So mad, that I contemplated a career change – using my degree in another field entirely.

And so, I just applied to 2 facilities.  I’m qualified on paper for one job – I’m not so sure the actual job might be something I would do – but the other job is right up my alley.  180° from what I am currently doing, but what I lack in degrees I make up for with my experience.

Excited.  Scared.   Slightly nervous at the thought of an interview.  I need new interview clothes.  Agh!

I have no idea what will happen.  I’d love to try something different.  I can’t keep going on the way I’ve been going – it’s unhealthy for me and the cracks are starting to show.

I tried waiting out the rough period, but its been a few years and it’s only gotten worse in the past 10 months. Exponentially worse.

And so, here begins the trek to greener pastures.

I picked the wrong week to stop drinking

Imagine, if you will, a computer system that takes on all the characteristics of an unmedicated schizophrenic.  That’s what I got to deal with at work.  All week.   Everyday there was a new episode to deal with.  Sometimes it was up.  Sometimes it was down.  And there were even times when I compared it to a wounded animal: alive, but not moving (i.e. I can access information, but it refuses to talk to other components).  Our boss described it by saying our servers were conjoined twins.  One of the twins died, hence the living hell I’ve been in.  When your entire field revolves around a computer and you have to go back to pencil and paper, things get crazy, especially when it’s a 3 person job and it’s just you.  And the phone calls.  I love talking to upset people on the phone.  Especially when I can’t do anything. “Can’t you just look it up?” they plead.  “No, because when I attempt to log into my system it says I do not have any user functions.”  And they still yell at me.  Look, honey, I’d love to help you but I can’t see the orders you have listed.  In fact, I have about 2 hours worth of work looking at me that I have to do one by one and oh, there’s another unhappy camper on the other line waiting to yell at me after you do.  It’s really hard to get work done at all when you’re constantly on the phone defending yourself and the poor IT guy who’s furiously trying to figure out why the mainframe crashed for no apparent reason.  YES WE ARE WORKING ON THE PROBLEM.  It’s harder for me, I actually have to do all the work.  You just look at pretty spreadsheets.

Like I said, I picked the wrong week to stop drinking.

My lack of R-OH is two fold: the main reason is to fast from alcohol to hear from God about our next steps in life – I want to go one way, The General wants to head in the other.  And so we wait to hear from Him.  I’ve never fasted before and my Bible study leader spoke of how she fasted from certain things she enjoyed when she was preparing for mission trips or waiting to hear something.  Interesting concept.  The other, more shallow reason, is to keep my body in shape.  Alcohol is a lot of empty calories and they usually end up somewhere around my mid-section (never the boobs for some reason).  It’s not that I had a problem or anything, I am the quintessential cheap date; I don’t drink large quantities nor do I use it as an escape.  It’s up there with nutella.  I enjoy it.  A lot.  A glass of wine after a hard night at work is a way to unwind and take the edge off.  There is the rare occasion where Captain Morgan and I will go off dancing into the night…..but that’s another story all together.

I plan to break the month and a half fast by toasting my family on Thanksgiving, as my entire side of the family is coming to North Carolina to celebrate – Mom, Dad, my little sister, and her boyfriend.  If the Lord says to keep my fast, I will.

The fast had been a piece of cake until this week — stress at work, lots of great moments with friends — and I couldn’t have a drink.  I’ve been sipping green tea instead, which is awesome. It’s soothing, it has antioxidants, and I can have multiple cups of it without worrying about how I’ll feel the next morning.  I’m working Cucalorus this year — the big film fest in Wilmington — which usually involves a lot of social drinking for me.  Not this year.  I can’t decide if I’m going to ask for water neat or a Shirley Temple.

This inconvenience that I have placed on myself goes much beyond the situational.  If by giving this up – for however long – allows me to hear God more clearly it will be time well spent.  A part of me wonders what if this fast is all for naught?  What if nothing changes one way or the other?  What if we get an answer clear as day….?  One of us will have to fold.  And I guess that’s where He comes in.

From Streams in the Desert, author not credited:

Child of my love, lean hard
And let Me feel the pressure of your care
I know your burden, child
I shaped it.
I balanced it in Mine Own hand
Made no proportion in its weight to your unaided strength
For even as I laid it on, I said,
“I will be near, and while she leans on Me,
This burden will be Mine, not hers.
So I will keep my child within the circling arms of my love.”
Here lay it down
Nor fear to impose it on a shoulder that upholds the government of the worlds
Yet closer come:
You are not near enough.
I would embrace your care
So I might feel My child reclining on My breast.
You love Me, I know.
So then do not doubt;
But loving Me, lean hard.

My Mad Men moment

It’s so secret that we’re losing people faster than we can hire them at work.  It’s getting silly now, as the water is now ankle deep in our boat and we’re handed buckets to start bailing water overboard. The distress signals we’re giving out are going unanswered — or answered by people who can’t help us (i.e. can’t do the work that needs to be done)…..and so I wait for the water to rise waist high as my arms are tired every night from constantly bailing out myself, my co-workers, and the machines that are truly Ford’s (fix or repair daily….seriously.  I see more of the service rep than of my husband some weeks).

I just had my performance review and despite how I feel about coming across as a complete orge, I got the maximum score of 100%.  I don’t know if I am just hard on myself and this is proof I’m doing well or if they’re just overlooking my faults by telling me what a great job I’m doing so I won’t follow my former co-workers and find a job elsewhere.  I’m valuable because I know the most information and can fix things (i.e. machines, angry phone calls, etc).  Us veterans are a dying breed.

The solution my boss found was also the same that pulled me to Wilmington: advertise for employees in a national journal for our profession.  I only get a subscription when I’m looking for a job — and it’s what I started reading cover-to-cover when I was prepping for my move somewhere between Virginia Beach and Miami.  I still have the ad cut out that made me apply here.  It’s less as enticing now that I look at it, but since my blood now has tested positive for salt water and sweet tea, it’s still one of the best decisions I have ever made.

My boss knows I am a good writer.  Every time we have a machine that dies (well, “dies” as in leaves the lab by either eternal mechanical death or replacement), I write an obituary for them.  At my old job, this guy actually did them and I pulled the idea form him.  I must admit, they’re pretty funny.  She would like me to write up something to put in an ad for this journal to pull people into the area.  Wilmington is a very desirable place live, it’s just my employer is somewhat of a meat grinder.  I’m definitely more hardened in my spirit since I started working here.

I’m a copywriter for a moment at my job, writing an ad.  I really want to go all Don Draper on it.  Martinis?  Check.  Sex with a co-worker? Check. (It’s okay, he’s my husband….we met at work).  And while I can’t get a meeting together to discuss my ad pitches, do you have any ideas on why someone should move to Wilmington and take a healthcare job that pays lower than most and will be guaranteed to kick your ass most nights?

As soon as I get my laughter under control, I am going to use this Mad Men clip as my inspiration.  Because I usually say this when something seriously goes wrong, followed by a barrage of F bombs and seething looks.

A little crispy around the edges

I made a promise to myself this summer: I would not work overtime.

I lied.

I’ve spent most of the summer at work.  It’s been good: we now get critical staffing pay (~$7 after Uncle Sam takes his cut) on top of time and a half.  Not bad.  The worst part?  It’s July and I feel like I’m wasting my summer.  The General has commented on this as well — our different schedules only let me see him just a few hours before or after my shift.  We did this for a month and half before we had a day off together.  That sucked.

So, after my 3rd weekend of double shifts (32 hours), I decided I am done.  Then it comes to Independence Day: we only have 2 people on the schedule.  We need a minimum of 5 to run the place.  I feel like I should take a slot; I’m hoping to use that as my bargaining chip.  I want Labor Day and Thanksgiving Day (and a few days around it) off because of family.

The General has a family reunion Labor Day and it’s a blast camping out in the hills on his Polish ancestor’s homestead.  As for Thanksgiving, for the 1st time in my adult life, I am hosting my parents (and my sister and my future BIL) down here in NC for a traditional southern Thanksgiving (which includes homemade macaroni and cheese).  I figured I’d work Christmas and New Year’s Eve/Day to accommodate it.  Seeing as how I worked this past New Year’s Day, Easter, and Memorial Day…..I don’t know.

If I work the 4th of July, that will put me on a 7 day stretch, beginning with 2 double shifts back to back.  I was a hot mess when I came back for an 8 hour stint after my double last time.  I was pretty ugly to my co-workers.  While I can sleep in and take it easy the rest of the week before work, I still have to go into what can be a catastrophic day.  And because I’ve been there the longest, a lot of the times I am the lucky one who gets to put out fires, i.e. solve the problems that arise.

I feel I am starting to burn out……I’m a little scorched.

I’m not the only one.  The wildfires north of us in Pender County are finally in control after the massive rainstorm.  I awoke today to a very hazy morning, filled with smoke.  That killed our run, it couldn’t be good to breath all that in.  It’s clearing more now, so I think I’ll hit the pavement before work.

I’m off tomorrow…..I’m going to watch the sun rise at Kure Beach.  It’s been awhile and I think it will help set the tone for what could be the longest week ever.

All together now

Necrotic infection. I-95. College friends. Running. Adventures. Playing hooky from work.

It’s been a whirlwind of a week.

The The General and I embarked to Florida to visit friends from his college days. It was awesome. More about that later.

This week my buddy Zetta from college is staying with us in between gigs (she’s on the road, lucky girl). It’s been fun. It’s hard to believe its been 6 years since we hung out – and that we became friends – we met because my boyfriend at the time had a crush on her. A lot of drama insued, but we’re better now; although Zetta is the reason I can’t drink vodka anymore. There’s a bottle of it on my sink, I have a feeling it will be gone by the time she gets on the plane….

I totally played hooky from work today because Zetta was here and I almost got caught….twice!  Once at Wal-Mart and another time leaving the best sushi place on earth: Yo Sake in downtown Wilmington.  Holy cow.  I NEVER call in, I’m usually the one who stays another shift because someone else calls in – and the one time I do I get caught.  Such is the luck of a former honor student.

Another holiday spent at work — working all of Easter weekend and I’m actually going to be at church for Easter for my bouncer duties.  Ever hear of Creasters?  They’re those people who only attend church on Christmas or Easter (because you know, God sees that and finds favor……::rolls eyes::).  The General and I are the exact opposite: we attend church on most Sundays and not major Christian holidays because the crowds are beyond nuts and we feel it’d be better to give up our seat so hopefully someone who is not a Christian is there with friends to hear the message. And we’re usually working.  Ah, the simple joys of having family 1,000 miles away and no children.

Stay tuned, more to come after I find the Easter candy.