Time flies . . . sort of

Hard to believe I feel so tired just working part time. Does using your brain really affect you that much? After four days, I've worked a total of 18 hours. I feel like I've been run over by a truck! It's truly ridiculous.

I think an old dog can learn new tricks, but it takes a little more time than learning tricks in puppyhood. I hope I can meet everyone's expectations during this time. The good news is they understand that it's a hard job, so maybe they won't expect too much of me.

Sadly, I'm counting the days until this assignment is over. Hopefully, as time goes by I will adjust to my new schedule, and maybe even enjoy the journey!

A New Normal

Today I started working for the first time in 18 months. Getting up at 6:00 a.m., leaving for work at 7:30 a.m., quite a change from my carefree days staying home. I can do the job, I think I will enjoy it, but not so sure that I want to do it for the long term.

Trying to figure out what Mike's job change will mean, what my temporary job will change about our lives, trying to comprehend the fact that we are going to be grandparents, hoping we don't have to move away before we even get to enjoy being grandparents. So many changes. Our lives are changing, and we aren't sure exactly what that will look like.

But, this I know: God has always been faithful. God will never abandon us. God has a future and a hope for us. So, normal is just where we happen to live one day at a time.

What a Difference A Day Makes

So to go from hopelessness to too many choices in a 24 hour period is exhausting.

Move? Stay? East? West? Take the family? Leave the family? Change in scenery? Stay put? What to do?

I am so grateful for all the options, but want to be sure and pick the best and right option.

Lots of decisions, lots of prayers, lots of research, lots more prayers.

Thankful for God's faithfulness and trust Him to lead us in the next steps.

Now What?

So, the other shoe may be dropping tomorrow. Really? Now what? They say the recession ended over a year ago. Really? For who? When will people be able to just choose to retire instead of being "shown the door". What does a 50-something year old do when faced with unemployment, no financial cushion? Where will we go? What will we do? My little part-time temporary $15 an hour job, is not going to cut it.

My stomach feels like it might explode. My mind is racing. I have no idea how this is going to work out.

So tomorrow we may hear that after twenty-three years at the same job, it may be over.

Now what?

Dealing with the Blues

I find it interesting that when you feel tired and blue the best thing to do is to get busy and help someone else.

My friend, Chelle, is recovering from a serious ATV accident. She has many broken bones, pins, plates, and screws in her arm. She has a sling, a cane, a lot of pain, but a smile on her face, and encouragement on her lips. She can't drive, can't do her job (she's a hairdresser), can't do the basics around her house . . . yet she is so glad to be alive . . . and that is contagious.

We've laughed together, cried together, prayed together, gone to the dr. together, eaten together, talked and talked and talked.

How thankful I am for a friend, who cares about me, in spite of her own pain and troubles. I hope I can be a friend like that for someone someday.

Keys are Important

Today I took my mom to the doctor. She was pretty sick. Got her some medicine and had Lindsay drop me off at Mom's to deliver the meds and then I headed home. For some reason I bought a purse the size of Grand Canyon last month. Seemed like a good idea at the time. Anyway, as I was walking home, I was digging, digging, digging in the abyss that is my purse. Had keys to my mom's house, but not mine.

Crud!

I checked the front door to see if maybe I had forgotten to lock it. No such luck, I was all about safety on my way out evidently. So then I went to the back yard. We leave the back door open so the dogs will use the backyard as their potty instead of the living room. It was open but had the "safety stick" in the door so it wouldn't open more than about 8 to 10 inches. Believe it or not, I am bigger than 8 to 10 inches, no matter how hard I tried to squeeze through. I could see my keys on the dining room table. Tried talking the dogs ( who were so excited to see me in the back yard ) into climbing up on the table and retrieving my keys (kind of like Lassie), but to no avail. It was in the low 70's today and quite windy. I refuse to admit that it isn't summer and was in shorts and a tshirt. It got a little chilly.

Jon came and rescued me and let me in the house. I was too embarrassed to admit to Lindsay that I had locked myself out. I didn't want to bother my poor sick mom. So I sat in the yard and tried to get out of the wind for about an hour until Jon could get here. He was on his way anyway, so I just waited.

So I learned today, that you should always take your keys when you leave the house. I'm 50 years old, I think it was time to learn that one.

Back to reality.

Reality is no where near as much fun as Disneyland.

We had a great week in California with Tim, and Tara, and almost walked our legs off at Disneyland. Now we are back home. We haven't seen the sun since we got back. It has been wet, dreary, cold. This morning our wind chill was 35 degrees when I got up. It's June, for pity's sake.

So reality means things like: doing laundry, unpacking, ironing, buying groceries, cooking dinner, watching too much tv, etc. And trying to find clothes warm enough to wear in this weather.