Blur of Busy

I am finding myself updating during my lunch break. As if I'm not on my computer enough, I feel the need to complete this for the whopping 5 or six people who might just read it?! (Please excuse my attitude, but you will soon learn the reasoning for it)
I wish I had something that I have observed that was absurd or humorous, but the fact of the matter is I have been a blur of busy. And, not an exciting busy, like having something to look forward to (like a nice Hawaiian vacation) but the kind of busy that gets you nowhere but exactly where you started (if even that far). Can you relate? Like the work you do on a daily or weekly basis that has piled up so high you have to burn yourself out just to break even where you would have been if God would have given another 30 minutes to the hour. It's not the work, but the feeling that you will never get ahead or even on top of all the stuff you have to do. So, you see...it is a vicious cycle. It drains you for nothing. Curse personal deadlines and goals for self improvement!
I guess do have something to look forward to. I have three guests from Africa coming to visit on Sat. They will be here for a week, so I will have time to get to know them and their culture. There, of course, is a downside... it is three times the cooking, cleaning, laundry, and normal daily duties that I already am lacking time and energy to complete.
You see, today there is no hope. I am not only feeling a little sorry for myself, but for some reason think that anyone else would really care to sympathize? I know I would not sympathize with myself, but I am a very unsympathetic person.
I wish I could whine for another 6 paragraphs, but I am off to training.

MEN BEWARE

It was recommended by a friend that I visit a website that had tips on starting your own business. When I was able to read through the different articles one really caught me eye. "Ocean front property from $35,000.00! Clear ocean water and warm temperatures all year.." I was sucked into clicking the link to the International Living magazine where they claim you can live in a island paradise for as little as $800 a month. That is supposed to include a house, a car, health insurance, a maid, and a gardener, among other entrancing things. Huh. And, for $89 I can subscribe so they can tell me how. Tempting? Very. True? Probably not. Even if I was open to the idea, I wouldn't have the money to fly there in the first place. Knowing my luck I would be struck dead with meningitis within a week of arrival. Reality is a bummer.
Then I was also hit with an radio offer this morning for donating eggs. It pays $5000.00. Humm...must be a pretty bad procedure if they will pay you that much. Makes me wonder why the world is so driven for money. Makes me mad that it is that way! Where did my parents go wrong? That I would even consider selling my eggs?! And even my friends considering doing so as well?! What has gone wrong here? I know the whole idea is to help others have kids, but God probably took away that natural ability for a reason. I couldn't imagine telling my mom I was going to the doctor to donate eggs... isn't that just as creepy as a sperm bank? The whole concept seems absurd!
I will now try to be content sitting in my cube dreaming of island paradise and thankful to be a woman...down to ever last egg. This is definitely a girl's blog. I should name this one "Men Beware." I think I will - it suits it better than "Island Paradise."

Dose of Testosterone

When I was younger I used to go to football games with my dad often. Upon thinking about it, I did a lot of events growing up that a boy would. My dad always wanted a boy, but being graced with two daughters, I guess I was the son he never had. My sister is the girliest girl that I associate with, so I knew I was his only hope. Taking up fishing, football, and many other "boyish" activities, me and my dad have always got along grandly.
Anyway, he had tickets for the Broncos vs Chief game on Sunday. I can not remember being so excited about anything (recently)! We drove up to Denver, I was the dj, playing ZZ Top and The Rolling Stones, singing all the way. Once I was there I felt like a kid again. Being able to feel a part of the game. Beer-spilling, profanity-yelling, peanut-throwing... this is where I feel at home. I looked at some of the pathetic women who looked like they had never been in this kind of environment, and found myself somewhat empowered. Bring it on!

Waiting to Open

It really irks me when businesses open later in the day. In my opinion, everything should be open at 8 or 8:30AM to serve it's customers. Take for instance the Humane Society. It rushes it's employees to get in and get the cages clean so they can open at a crisp 11AM and close at 5PM. Devoted to serving it's city and the city's abandoned animals they open at 11 and close at 4PM on weekends (1-4 on Sun)so that the busiest day and the day most people would decide to adopt a pet is cut short. I have a serious issue with that. In Denver it is not that way. I find more ways to hate this city the more I try to interact with it.
Anyway, I arrived this morning at 9:45 to pick up a new coffee table we had bought last weekend from the furniture store. After almost walking right into the electric doors (that didn't open), a man sitting to the left of me said the store opens at 10. I took a seat in the wicker patio chair that they trusting to lure buyers in, even though it was unsightly hooked to the concrete walkway with a coiled silver wire that looked like it was used in the Jurassic Park's T-Rex containment unit. Having nothing else to do but wait for the clock to strike 10, and being utterly bored and mostly braindead, I started to examine the people around me. The guy who had saved my life from the sealed doors was wearing a green "Kiss Me I'm Irish" t-shirt with cut off sweats. Looked like he just got out of bed - guess I wasn't the only one. There was an older couple sitting across the walkway that looked like they had waiting a long time (possibly overnight?) They continued to incessantly bicker and looked like they had loaded into the wagon for a trip to town after milking the cows. I wondered if they were they to buy a rocking chair. There was another older man pacing by the doors that made me think he was a struggling artist or photographer or something. He was wearing a pair of newly shined alligator skin cowboy boots, relaxed blue jeans and a ratty long-sleeved t-shirt. He also had a fishing hat with a rather large brim and a pair of outdated Ray-Bans with the corny strap that keeps them secured (in case of a run-by sunglassing). He promptly switched to admiring a slender blonde in a thin white sleeveless shirt that looked to be in her late 30's. She, of course, stood directly in front of everyone and routinely swished her hair from her shoulders. As the time ticked closer to 10, the stereo-typical American couple showed up. You know the kind I am talking about. Having a Starbucks cup in one hand a cell phone in the other, looking too busy to even listen to a word each other had to say. Conveniently miffed at the fact the store is not and will not open to accommodate their busy schedule. Kinda like the character with the black hair in You've Got Mail that was Tom Hank's first girlfriend (I forget her name). They also were pacing and giving disdainful looks to those who had been waiting longer than they were. I am sure they were planning how to mow everyone down so they could be the first to christen the showroom with their presence.
I was more than happy to see a cheerful manager open the doors and thank us for waiting. We went inside just to learn we had to go to the shipping dock...which happened to open at 9AM.

A Cube With a View

I am finding it impossible to think of anything tonight other than work. I am sitting here in my small "homey" cube wearing my headset gazing out the window from the luxurious fourth floor. I am very grateful for the view I have...I have not been here for very long and am sure I will be moved eventually.
Anyway, I am convinced that people known as "work-aholics" were once youngins that were stuck in a cube without a view. The only way to survive was to concentrate so hard on their job, their brain forced to leave the thought of an outside world even existing. With repetition, they made that a habit to survive.
When I think of intimidating people of higher power that are work-aholics (as most are) I have to have some sympathy for them. I wonder if they had a cube with a view...

First Blog

This is a monumental event. I have been reading blogs from my fellow co-worker now for over eight months. I finally have released my inhibitions enough to start my own (with hopes of none knowing of my doing so). Thoughts that nobody of significance would even sacrifice the time to read this seem to comfort me even though I will be typing diligently in the absurd hope someone or anyone will take an interest in what I have to say? I guess I will give it a try. I am amazed at the piddly thoughts that always seem to race through my mind each waking minute. I guess you could call me a typical girl?
Speaking of girls, and to girls, have you ever had a blank mind? So, at any given moment, if someone asked you what you are thinking you could honestly answer "nothing"? I have never had a moment like that...something I yearn to have...not constantly, or even more than once, just one time to see how it feels. Not that I am a "man-hater" by any means, but it seems their gender was blessed by the gift of being able to turn off their brain. (Maybe this is the reason men are generally less...coherent...for lack of a more appropriate word). I will have been married for five years in 26 days and there are many times (if not most of the time)if ever I ask my husband what he is thinking and he says "nothing". Now, in the beginning I thought he was thinking things he just couldn't tell me (which is usually the case if he asks me what I am thinking.) Over the past few years I have come to the realization that there is nothing in his mind that he is pondering at that specific moment. I find this very appalling! How one's mind could be completely blank? I must admit to be a bit envious as I long to have that experience. However, I must remember what gender I am blessed to be and embrace my ability to be a true thinker. On that note, I had yet to meet a man that has a mind like mine until about a year ago. But, then again, that is a whole other story. I have not given the new fad Queer Eye for the Straight Guy show a chance. Honestly, it kinda freaks me out. Maybe there is more than one guy that thinks like me - then again, no...probably not. Enough with this subject - I am starting to annoy myself.
One other thing before I close, the whole dandelion ice thing is courtesy of my fellow blogger, Sara. For weeks of phone training, she had her magnetic poetry unfinished and is read something along the lines of "dandelion ice mumurs..." which remained unfinished for the duration of my training. How I longed to see it completed. To my recent dismay it has long been completed and swept away to new sprawlings of her tongue. It is weird what stays with you.