Ok, not really. But it sounds impressive.
I woke up to a meow on Saturday morning. That’s odd because my bed is on the third floor. I only heard it once and though, wow, is that cat loud!
It rained all day and I ran errands. Tried to stay dry, which sometimes takes heroic effort. I came home with the intention of crashing. I crawled into bed.
Narrative Break: I guess you have to understand something about how my bed is positioned. I sleep in the attic and there is a little alcove that is just big enough for my twin bed. At the foot of my bed is a small window.
So, I crawled into bed and started to reposition my covers when I saw a cat sitting by my window. Once again, a shock–I am on the 3rd floor.
Evidently Kitty climbed the tree by our porch, got stuck on the roof and stayed outside in the freezing rain all day! I tried to get the cat’s attention but she was scared and ran away.
I took out the screen and opened the window as far as it would go (which isn’t far). I called Here Kitty! Kitty! for a bit. Gave up.
Read some of my book.
Finally, she came back and I tried to pull her through. She threw a fit. Imagine claws in all directions, panic and very loud, pathetic meows.
I let her go. Then I coaxed her closer and petted her until I could turn her sideways. I then lifted her through the opening in the window, brought her downstairs and put her on the front porch.
I gently admonished her to not climb trees she couldn’t climb back down and sent her on her merry little way.
Who needs firemen?
This weekend I had two songs in my head, back to back. I went from singing one right into singing the other. About halfway through Saturday I noted with some irony the lyrics I was singing.
One was:
“For I can’t help falling in love with you.”
The other was:
“Why do fools fall in love?”
Last Thursday a co-worker told me that he took his daughter to Sesame Place. It costs $50 a person to get in (a person being 2 and older).
$50.
That’s a lot of money. My co-workers daugther G is 2, so he told her when they ask her how old she is she should only hold up one finger.
Pause.
He told his TWO year old daughter to LIE. I called him on it. He said he didn’t lie. I told him he was lying about lying. He denied it.
I was livid.
“You stole your daughter’s integrity for $50,” was one line I threw out at him. I also went on for some time about how he was normalizing lying and that she would grow up learning that lying was acceptable.
Another co-worker was around and he seemed to think I was making a bit of a big deal out of the whole thing. Maybe I was. I don’t know. Seriously, though, he taugh his TWO year old how to LIE!
The lie teaching co-worker walked away and the phone rang. It was for my boss, I screened the call like I always do and started to transfer the call to my boss. He told me he didn’t want to talk to the person who called. I picked back up the other line and said, “He didn’t pick up his phone, would you like his v/m?”
When I got off the phone the other co-worker, who seemed to think I was making a big deal out of the A’s situation remarked, “Lies are everywhere.”
Red faced. Shamed. Caught with my hands in the cookie dough.
So, as A walked out the door, I caught him and told him, after I made such a big fuss over him teaching his daughter to lie, I lied. I apologized.
The irony is not lost to me. The effect of my lie, he didn’t answer his phone, and A’s teaching his daughter to lie are infinately different. But both are equally bad.
I have a Korean friend. Her husband is a post doc at Harvard.
It is as impressive as it sounds. Yep.
At any rate, she tagged along to the US to be with him and came to my church. [nope, it isn't really my church, as in, I run it, or anything, but saying the church I attend is so awkward!]
She visited the small group I attend, which is how I got to know her.
Last week she had surgery. It went well, but she suffered side effects due to the medicine was prescribed for pain [irony, the pain medication caused her a great deal of pain, nose bleeds, dizziness, vomiting].
I went to visit her today. Her husband met me at the bus stop–good thing, too, I would have never found the place! I had brought a bag with me, in addition to my purse. He carried it for me.
He opened doors for me.
My friend who had surgery came to the door to greet me. I feel bad about that.
Her mom, who is visiting from Korea to care for her, made me lunch. I tried to pick a time to come when they wouldn’t feel obligated to feed me. I figured I would get away with tea and some sort of snack. Nope. I got lunch.
I had kim chi, which is spicy lettuce, rice with beans and bulgur, a rice noodle dish with several kinds of fish [they ask me, with slight fear and great hope in their eyes my answer would be no, if I am a vegetarian], two kinds of seaweed and tea with nuts. When they asked me to stay for lunch, my friend told me she was afraid I wouldn’t like the food because it wasn’t familiar to me. I loved it.
During the meal my friend felt dizzy and nauseous, so she went to lay down. I realized at this point she felt guilty that she could not visit with me, so my time to leave had come.
I prayed for her.
She sat up in bed.
I told her I would leave so she could sleep. She got out of bed and walked me to the door. Her mom urged me to stay.
I said I needed to leave. She gave me a box of tea and told me how to make it. All dutifully translated by her son in law.
My friend had to sit at this point. I knew she was only out of bed because of me and I felt bad. If I had just had surgery, I would be in bed, probably loopy and way too lazy to get out. In fact, those who witnessed my wisdom tooth removal will know I didn’t move, was crabby when they made me eat and told everyone their were liars when they said that I would feel better soon.
I said my goodbyes.
My friend’s husband walked me to the bus stop, to make sure I got out alright. He once again carried my bag for me.
This is my first experience with Korean culture. I think I have a great deal I can learn.
This new guy started at my office. I’ll call him Persistent Peter. He works for our sister company and was hired to start their office here in our beautiful Bean Town. Testy Toby, our regional leader, asked Persistent Peter to help Juvenile Job, my direct supervisor, out with some paperwork stuff that Juvenile Job doesn’t like to do and never does.
One day Persistent Peter decided to help write a proposal. Straitlaced Suzy in our PA office decided to help him out, so he would learn to do it the right way, not the way Juvenile Job does his. She told Persistent Peter he should do a couple of things. Persistent Peter told Juvenile Job who said:
“That is a stupid idea, who told you to do that?”
“Why, Straitlaced Suzy said to do it this way.”
“She would.”
Persistent Peter felt in the middle of Straitlaced Suzy and Juvenile Job. He then came to me and said,
“I feel in the middle of SS and JJ and am not sure what to do. It is so frustrating.”
“It sounds frustrating.”
Exit Persistent Peter [poor guy, I just don't have the heart to abbreviate his initials].
Enter Juvenile Job.
“We are going to have to have to get Persistent Peter something better to do before I go insane.”
“Oh, that sounds frustrating.”
Exit Juvenile Job.
We finished the proposal and I sent it to the client.
Phone call from Straitlaced Suzy.
“Why didn’t Persistent Peter do what I told him to do? I specifically told him what to do.”
In comes my explanation of how Persistent Peter and Juvenile Job didn’t agree, and for that matter JJ and SS don’t always agree either, so we compromised.
“I don’t know why I waste my time.”
“I know, it is really frustrating.”
I am about to pull my hair out at this point.
It might be getting better.
But you should expect more posts about JJ and SS and TT and Persistent Peter.
