The Benefit of the Blog.

An opportunity to "meet" and learn from people who I would never have known otherwise.

You know that game where you can pick anyone in the world to dine with for the evening?

Tonight's pick: Alexa, Carmi and Diva. Leonardo and Maya Angelou would have to wait! ;-)

What I Collect.

Old Leather Books. I love to read them...to smell them...and find little lost notes tucked inside. I enjoy the inscriptions with unfamiliar names and hand-scrawled dates. The covers and inside pages are a tactile extravaganza. I have just added these to my collection for the paltry sum of $61.00. Published in the late 1800's.

Progress Report

Polarity Massage
A massage technique developed by Dr. Randolph Stone in Austria during the early 20th century to help release energy in the client's body. This massage treatment is designed to balance the body's energy through touch, stretching exercises, diet, and improved mental/emotional attitude.

I've always joked with friends that I was going to have a Polarity Massage. This is something my friends in Marin do, and I consider it to be slightly "woo-woo." As I understand it, the therapist doesn't actually touch you, he/she merely massages the energy that's hovering above and around your body. So, no. I haven't actually had one...but I certainly feel as though I did.

Of course, this feeling of Peace with the World could be because Dad's physician's report arrived, he was approved to move into his new apartment, his furniture was delivered on Sunday, and he is happy in his new home. Phase I is complete. Phase II is moving my mom into her new place sometime this week. Phase III is tenting & fumigating their house and garage (we are terrified of the Brown Recluse spider) . Phase IV is cleaning the house and moving the furniture into a storage unit. And Phase V is selling the house.

But enough about all of that. It's time for bed.

Unspoken pain.

My mom and dad have never slept in the same room for as long as I can remember. I grew up thinking that this was normal with every family. The mom and dad slept in their own rooms, or in our case, one was in the bedroom and the other one slept in the den.

I have seen my parents kiss twice. They have hugged each other...perhaps, a dozen times that I can recall.

My parents were even less demonstrative with us kids. No one said, "I love you" until I started saying it at the end of our phone calls when I was away at college. Then they would say it back to me...probably to be polite.

Two months ago I was in my kitchen eating breakfast and reading the newspaper. Mom walked in and hugged me from behind...and then planted a kiss on my head. She had never, ever done that in my entire life. Her hug sparked an inner fusion throughout my body. It was as if someone doused me with a bucket of warm love. It just spread throughout me.

So now, every night when I tuck mom into bed, I give her a hug and kiss. She sobs every time I do this...and she says, "Oh Jill. Don't leave me." I do my best to comfort her by holding onto the hug until she lets go of me. I brush the hair off her face and tell her to let it out - cry until there are no more tears.

And my heart breaks while she sobs, because I realize that she has been love-starved for her entire life. Until now.

In Search of the Poetry in My Life.

You know well enough that Our Lord does not look so much at the greatness of our actions, nor even at their difficulty, but at the love with which we do them.
Saint Therese of Lisieux

I worked as an office clerk in the food service department at CSU Sacramento for a couple of years. I was very young, just 20 years old and attending university full time. My boss was an older man who willingly imparted his life's wisdom.

At the time, he gave me what I considered to be very sage advise: "Focus not on how you feel, focus on what you accomplish." I took that advice to heart. At that time, I lived life on an emotional roller coaster and only did the things that I felt like doing. Anything else was completely neglected. I think this was his way of encouraging me to live life responsibly - with a greater degree of maturity.

I have taken this concept to the extreme over the last 20 years. I create goal sheets every New Year's day and notch-off the items that I accomplished the year prior. My personal Measurement Stick is embossed with Acts. What have I achieved? How does that compare with others my age? Am I in the Pole Position?

In Search of the Poetry in My Life.
This phrase popped into my head a couple of days ago - and I've been contemplating how to incorporate it into a blog. Thanks to Alexa, the words gelled this morning.

Tasking my way through life has left me feeling empty. I've lost touch with the subtle joys that living simply can offer. Despite a flurry of happenings going on at all times, I've started to realize that I'm an empty vessel when it comes to my personal life, my home life. I give sincere guidance and assistance to my employees at work - which is fulfilling because it it genuine and heartfelt at many times - but I haven't done this on the home front for a very long time.

In Search of the Poetry in My Life.
My way of saying that I want to slow down, feel the beauty of life through the act of love...not through the love of the act.

I may think that I'm at my limit and can take no more...but the world can and will dish more out. And somehow, I find the capacity to deal with it. So far.

I thought the crying and fears were the worst of it. I now know that the deteriorated health and dementia are deeper, more troubling issues.

Firemen don't particularly care for making 2:30am house calls...much less the 2nd time for the same person in one day, to-boot.

I've come to realize that my husband is Family. He's locked into a position where I no longer consider it to be an option to not be with him. He's in it for the long haul and that has been demonstrated to me dozens of times over these last few months. I would never leave him.

I am so exceptionally clear that my job is my 2nd priority.

I Don't Understand What is Happening.

Yesterday, mom was diagnosed with cellulitis. It's a skin infection that has made her left hand swollen and bright red. It looks like a lobster claw. She's been delirious from the infection - weepy and fearful.

We tucked mom into bed around 11:00 pm tonight. At 12:30 am we were awakened by her screaming. She fell and was sobbing. We were able to get her upright and noticed that she skinned her leg. I got that bandaged and we lifted her into bed. I don't think she broke anything...other than her spirit. I kissed her on the cheek and she begged me to not leave her. I promised I wouldn't. She's afraid now that she's going to die because she fell.

As I sat here typing all of this, Dad came bumbling down the stairs. His pants had fallen down to his kness. He got tripped-up, barely rounded the corner, saw me... and became incontinent. He's drenched, but he won't let me help him.

My husband is in bed with the comforter wrapped around his head...trying to escape to a peaceful place through slumber.

I hope he is successful. I will have no such luck.

Not My Better Half

I have been confronted by my limitations today. All that I cannot do or do not do well. It was a chance to Step Up To The Plate and I didn't do it. But truth be told, this isn't uncommon with me.

1. 6 years ago, I couldn't jump 15 feet into a pond. Kids as young as 7 years old were doing it. My husband dove in and landed in a big 'ol belly flop. I stood on the edge, petrified, wondering if the water was so cold I would have a heart attack from the shock. With dozens of people casually watching me, I backed away and never jumped. I was a coward. And my husband witnessed it.
2. I cannot do anything gracefully. There isn't a "genteel" bone in my body. I have one really good tumble down a flight of stairs every year. It is common for me to go to ER because I've cut myself when chopping an onion. I even walk like a gorilla. The stage in my high school play had to be carpeted because I walk so loudly.
3. Math escapes me. Several people have attempted to teach me geometry with no success. It's almost as though the nerve in my brain is disconnected. I can understand the logic and the information input, but I cannot functionally solve a problem or apply it. I have accepted that I probably never will.
4. I am not very good at pulling myself out of slumps. I have been spiraling downward for years and have achieved very little lift. Weight? Oy Vey. Looks? Gone. Positive attitude? Diminishing. Effervescence? Snuffed out.
5. I am not a good caretaker. I am not good with blood. I am horrible with pain and crying and dejection and fear when it's all centered on something that I cannot fix. So I wring my hands, shut myself in a room and cry by myself, and rage internally. Feeling inept, cruel in my impatience, and trapped with no solution in sight.

I have behaved horribly today because I am teetering on the edge of a bonafide Tilt. It's no excuse. So tonight I pray that I can do better tomorrow. Be more loving, kinder...and yes, full of grace.

The tears flow more gently now, with a profound sense of resignation. There are very few words, just a hand clasped over the mouth so the inner anguish stays put. Eyes are squeezed shut as if to block out the vision. Slowly, the heads starts to shake from side to side. Defiance. Or wishful thinking.

I sit and watch my mother wrestle with the thought of her new "home." The last place that she will ever live, most probably the place where she will die.

The sadness is palpable, and any hurt or resentment that I felt from my childhood has dissolved. I wouldn't wish this on anyone.

Vogue.

Boss has an amazing ability to strike a GQ pose whenever we hover nearby with a camara. He wakes up each morning and jumps up on the bedroom chest to check himself out in the mirror...for about 5 minutes. He's a handsome laddie, no?

Who Could It Be, Now.

Jill,
I have been reading your blog for months and this is the first time I have responded with a comment. "You ain't got it that bad," is what goes through my mind when I read about your "problems." I haven't read anything that makes me think that you have it hard. If anything, you seem to have a lot going for you but you tend to focus on all that you don't have. Your life would be a lot easier if you stopped doing that. You're opinionated, but you don't assert yourself in the areas where you lack focus and dedication. At best, it's hypocritical. You obviously work a lot of hours and you neglect your health. You're either trying to kill yourself or you are taking your past good heath for granted. And are you really as shallow as you seem? You're terribly hard on your husband. He sounds like a nice guy. There are worse things in the world than not making any money. Is he a good soul? Try focusing on that and stay positive. This could be a test to see if your substance as a wife is worthy of him. And if you're too tired to work once on a weekend, then you're in pretty bad shape. Stop complaining and whimpering about it and get yourself in shape. I may sound harsh, but I think it's time that you look at your life from a different perspective. There's nothing worse than someone who has been bestowed a blessed life but lives like an ingrate.
Anon

I. Don't. Want. To. Work. Tomorrow.

I've been grumbling around all day with a bad attitude.

I have to work tomorrow. From 9am to 7pm. On top of that, I have to drive 2 hours each way to get to the venue of the event that I have to staff.

There was a time in my life when I wouldn't have thought twice about working long hours plus on the weekend. I was career-driven. I wanted to be Successful and Respected.

Then I learned that success has very little to do with what one does in the office. It's about how one manages the important decisions in life.

• Do I do The Right Thing even when the alternative is more alluring, easier, or promises anonymity.
• Do I invest in others - spiritually, emotionally and intellectually.
• Do I treat people well and give of myself.

I also learned (too late) that I respect very few people in the corporate world...so to allow my world to hinge on gaining their respect is, well, senseless.

I stayed in sales management because I had something to prove. To myself, to others (who really weren't even watching)...to anyone who would pay notice. I wanted to prove that I was effective. That my contributions were a cut above...award-winning...and better than the average bear. I wanted to be promoted and regaled and financially rewarded.

The problem is that once you accomplish all of this...you feel compelled to keep going. Until you're left tired and spent. Until the mojo meter is running on empty.

Sure, I have arrived...now I have to do the time. As in, all day tomorrow and all day next Saturday. During the week my parents move into their new assisted care living facility, which alone has added enough drama in my life to keep me teetering on The Edge.

I never wanted to work this hard. But I don't know any other way...though there really needs to be a limit. Fourteen-plus hours on a Sunday shouldn't be compulsory.

About those Bouts....

Thanks to Alexa at Domestic Excellence...I took the "Which Peanuts Character Are You?" quiz with the above result. (Tell me something that you all don't already know...i.e. frequent bouts of neurosis!)

I have a girls-only Halloween cookie decoration party every year. These are the contenders for the Best Deco Award from last year. I usually have 10 gal-friends and their kids. All of my tables are covered in wax paper, I have sprinkles and those ghastly Snowballs. I have a bakery in Burlingame that takes my cookie-cutters and makes beautiful, thick sugar cookies for the event. We eat, drink and laugh and always have a good time. I'm at the point now where I have to decided whether to Party this year...or Not. It's about time for the invites to go out.  

Minced, Pounded...and Crushed.

I thought I was treating myself to something special when I booked my 90 minute massage this morning. I've been extremely tense and my neck has been stiff as cardboard. And in the past, a massage would typically leave me feeling refreshed and relaxed.

Not today.

Everything hurt. My shoulders, my neck, my feet, and my forearms. It was unbearable.

Then, Rachel (the masseuse) went to work on the small of my back and my gluts. I yelped....she didn't stop. I started having emotional flashbacks of pain...

• The time I ran over a broken bottle with bare feet - and had to have stitches in the bottoms of my soles when I was 5.
• The time I was strapped to a gurney in a hospital corridor, waiting to have minor surgery when I was 4.
• The time I got separated from my mom at Sears and I ran up and down the parking lot aisles because I was convinced she had left me. I was 6 years old then.
• The time I was attacked by the neighborhood beagle.

So there I was, on the table and I started crying. And in the back of my mind I became aware of the mountain of emotion that I have stored up inside of me. Old hurts, new hurts. Then I realized that I don't allow myself to cry much with my mom living with us...because I have to be the strong one, despite the blood...her tears and accusations...her distress over selling the house...and her panic attacks over the thought of dying in "a place like that."

This entire process of caring for her and attending to her ills has been enormously heartbreaking.

All of this was flashing through my mind and tugging on my heart when I sensed that Rachel was watching me. I became embarrassed over the tears...didn't really want to explain them...so I quickly shut them down.

So here I sit...literally throbbing from the the outer physical pain from the massage, and trying to deal with the bottled-up hurt that had surfaced...but was abruptly capped.

Crikey.

Aunti Hazel is on the left and that is Aunti Neva on the right. This photo was taken in 1960 and they were each in their 60s at the time!

Aunti Hazel

When I was young and exposed to constant turmoil in our home, I found a safehaven at my Aunti Hazel's house. Every summer, I would stay with her for 4-5 weeks...although I realize now that I usually went to Aunti Hazel's alone. My sisters didn't go with me. I'm sure this gave my mom a much-needed break.

What it gave me was a place where I always felt safe, always felt loved, and always felt taken care-of.

Aunti Hazel was eccentric. She lived with a high degree of vibrancy - her reactions were never filtered or muffled. She emoted from an intense, visceral place. She was never uncouth, but she was no delicate flower either. Her favorite saying? "Nuts to you!" She purchased a new Cadillac every two years. Her home included a guest cottage, and she delighted in pushing the button in the main house that sounded the ringer in the guest house, telling everyone to get up and get breakfast. Usually around 7am.

Aunti Hazel was a woman of great style and eclectic taste. Her front door was thick and solid wood that split in the middle so only half could be opened. She had shutters and shutter dogs on every window. She had a pepper grinder with a hog's head on the top...and you could wind it up to play music.

We only ate at the dining room table. Lighted candles every night, it was my job to snuff them out after dessert. She taught me how to butter my bread properly, set the table, and we always used linen napkins.

I've always missed her. But during times when I feel exhausted or stretched or unsure of my path...I find myself longing to be with her again. In her home...safe, warm, protected.

Jo Mama-isms.

My family has called my mother "Jo Mama" ever since my nieces were 4 years old. They also made up the name "Papa Louie" for my dad.

Jo Mama has a keen vocabulary that is interspersed with some very strange words:

"Jill, turn your winky on." (As in the left hand turn signal on the car)

"Isn't' that ol' Boobie-Hatch?" (As in What's His Name?)

"Hand me the flipper." (As in the tv remote control)

"I left it in the Hoopie." (As in car)

"Sorry about that - it's because of my buckeroos." (As is big front teeth)

Sad thing, I use these words myself. And I often get some very strange looks.

The Plan

While walking with my husband down at the track this afternoon, I casually mentioned the word...Denver. More sunny days in one year than San Diego. Cost of living is 40% less than San Francisco. Skiing, lakes and mountains nearby. A robust real estate market that is priced well below our area. Opportunity for me to transfer within my existing company.

He thought about it for a couple of laps...and then said, "I'm all for it."

Who-ya!

The timeline is Spring. I am filled with a newfound sense of Hope.

Today's State of Mind.

I am powerless to change another person. I only have the power to change myself.

In a year's time, I'd like to live somewhere else...perhaps Denver. So I might as well thoroughly enjoy where I am right now.

I need to push forward with the adoption despite my worries. I don't want two little babies who go to day care. Moving to another area will solve all of that. Enough said.

I begin working with a nutritionist tomorrow. Weight loss can be as difficult or as easy as I choose to make it.

I have requested a shift change at work to help me deal with my exhaustion plus allow me to workout in the morning. I hope to hear a definitive answer from my director this week.

It's time to book the vacation and time off. I've been edgy with my staff, and that's never good.

Is it likely/possible for a 41 year old woman to keel over from a heart attack?

Food no longer comforts me. It makes me feel as though I am starting to decay.

It's never really all that hard for me to do the right thing. My battle is that I'd like worldly credit for doing such. Which is ridiculous, when you think about it.

I have been told that I am self-centered for my entire life. By my family. So, does that make it true?

I must continue to pray to be certain that I am on the right path.

When Should the Tough Love Kick In?

My husband secured $24,000 worth of business for a stone finishing group he hopes to work with on an ongoing basis. This was for one of his best clients. He just returned from their home to tell me how stunning it looks. Trouble is, he didn't negotiate a sales commission before he made the referral, so he earns...nothing.

This is the group owned by the fellow who got a free paint job in his home: Muraling in the boy's room and faux work. All done by my husband with the hope of developing a working relationship. This is on top of the 3 other jobs that my husband sold and earned $2,500...while devoting more than 8 weeks to the work and completion of these projects.

My issue? His "hope" is not materializing into anything. So we're dipping into savings, while my husband continues to pursue this dream.

My personal belief is that once you show someone that you can be taken advantage of...they rarely turn around and offer you a great job for big bucks. The pattern already established here is excrutiating for me. Keeping my mouth shut is excrutiating for me. (Note to self - neighbors down the block can hear me banging on my keyboard. I've got to calm down.) And even though he agreed to look for a job last week...he made no effort.

Watching my husband buzz through this year without a care in the world is eating me up inside. He clearly does not share my angst, despite my tearful and pleading outreach to him.

He keeps asking me to wait through the end of the year. Give him 4 more months.

How am I supposed to do that when he doesn't even practice good business sense? Like negotiating a sales commission to insure he gets paid? There is no movement here! There is no growth!

Do I just continue to pray? Do we have yet another chat? Do I go into the family room right now and ask him why he is casually watching tv? And not painting something for me to sell on ebay?

The tears are now flowing. The heart is now knotted-up into a stiff, aching ball of hurt.

Heh. Hmph. Ugh.

My Two Cents

From the San Francisco Chronicle
Two Cents
On Sept. 11

"Do you plan to observe the anniversary?"

Joanne Denison, Danville
I'm buying a new flag to fly at half-staff to honor the Sept. 11 victims and the soldiers lost in the following war. Then I will go about my rich and busy day with an awareness of what a wonderful country this is even in the midst of turmoil and disagreement.

Finally, a sane response from someone in the Bay Area. We are surrounded by people who typical do not share our values or opinions. And most will use an opportunity like this to eschew Bush, the war on terrorism, Cheney, the right wing, etc, etc. We are bombarded with these messages daily from the newspapers, the local news, the residents.

So, it's refreshing to me to read a response like the one above. And I wonder, why don't more people hold that viewpoint? Why don't more people appreciate the fact that we are encircled by so much richness and convenience and beauty? We, as a nation, are so quick to jump on the Criticism Bandwagon and attack our own. Sure, we're not perfect. But should it really be such an embarrassment to so many people to fly our nation's flag? To admit that we are supremely more fortunate than 90% of the rest of the world.

To concede that on the whole, there is much for us to be proud of and appreciate?

Time, time, time. See What You've Done to Me.

On the radio last night, Michael Savage was lamblasting John Kerry for his plans to create a socialist medication network in which Americans would obtain pharmaceuticals for basically nothing. He continued to emphasize how Capitalism drives profit and competition - thereby resulting in new, scientific discoveries which we all benefit from.

It got me thinking about Capitalism and its effect on my life.

Capitalism allowed me to break out of the low-income status that I grew up in and raise my standard of living. It's provided me with the latest technological advances...computers with mind-boggling software programs - such as Excel (my favorite)...high def television (we don't own one, I've only seen it in an office)...DVDs and the ipod. It's given me exposure to a wide variety of ethnic foods...a fascinating world of interior design and artwork and textiles... convenience items that I have never lived without...like hair dryers, washing machines, gas stoves, and car radios.

But there are many downsides to Capitalism. It promotes overwork. It discourages leisure. And what I dislike the most...is that it lacks justice. I feel disgusted by these overpaid athletes who earn millions and millions of dollars...compared to RNs and teachers and scientists. I am galled by movie stars who earn millions and millions of dollars...and use it to sway the American people toward their own political ideals. Somehow, that feels very corrupt to me.

The sad truth about Capitalism is that it is what eventually allows us the freedom of leisure time - the pursuit of our own ideals and goals instead of what others tell us what to do. So many of us have to work ourselves into a state of tiredness and exhaustion...all toward the pursuit of taking time off.

Favorite thing on tonight's list #3: My Scottie Dog Doorstop with the back leg action. Love it. 

Favorite thing on tonight's list #2: The Barcalounger. It's supple. 

KO'd in the First Round.

Another manager in my company is responsible for getting our product installed at customer sites. Because there have been some hitches in the system, resulting in many of our sales not becoming serviced...and because being able to offer Immediate Service boosts our sales results dramatically...I've been working on developing a team of independent contractors to complete the work directly for us. At first, I took charge and made all of the arrangements myself. It was communicated to me that this was not PC, that I needed to follow the Chain of Command and work in partnership with my fellow managers who actually run that portion of the business.

So, this morning, I sat down with said manager to tell him about a group of independent contractors that notified us and expressed an interested in being part of this new sales program. I was ready to launch them...but wanted to talk to him first. I was Following the Rules to the tee.

Said manager walked out of my office and then talked to the leader of the independent contractors. He made a separate arrangement for them to work strictly for his group...thereby completely cutting my department out of the deal.

Nice. I just love being hit by a Left Hook outta nowhere. By a person who is looking me dead center in the eye and talking about the merits of partnership.

My Boss offered-up 4 tickets to the golf tourney at Pebble Beach last weekend because she was going to be out of town on vacation. I immediately said, "Yes!"

A numb-nut at the office put them on my bosses desk...despite knowing that she was out all week...and there they sat...all weekend.

Untouched. Unused. Unappreciated by someone like me.

The Real Me.

I was just slapped in the face by a hard dose of reality.

I stopped by Nordstrom to pick up a few new items to wear in honor of the company CEO visiting tomorrow. Despite my resolve to never, ever try clothing on in the store...I did. And it was ghastly. Those 3-way mirrors with the glaring lights are ghastly. I caught a true view of my overweight body.

I do not look like who I really am.

Egad. What have I done and where have I been.

I Am Woman...Hear Me Burp.

It's amazing how therapeutic it feels to "dump one's guts" onto a blog, rather than keep it pent up inside. Now that I've done all that, I feel compelled to list some of the awesome things going on in my life:

1. It is a gorgeous day in the San Francisco Bay Area.
2. My husband loves my mother and will go to the end of the earth to get her what she needs.
3. All of my immediate family is still alive.
4. I have a job that pays well.
5. I have an awesome team that truly cares about customer satisfaction.
6. I really like my Boss.
7. I love my church and am proud to be a member.
8. I am blessed to not have any serious, chronic disease.
9. I love my husband and am thankful that we are together.

On a less serious note, I just discovered Perrier Lemon. It's delightfully refreshing on a hot day...but it does have one down-side. It betrays my femininity by making me burpy.

Miss M

My sister just called to tell me that they had to put my mom's cat to sleep today. Miss M had congestive heart failure and was struggling to breathe.

My husband and I found her at a B & B in Pointe Reyes, which is North of San Francisco. We went there to celebrate my birthday 8 years ago. Miss M took a liking to us and came into our room to sleep at the foot of the bed. The B & B owner said she was stray...and didn't want her. So we took her home the next day.

Pit fell in love with her immediately. She would have nothing to do with him. She lived with us for 2 years, until my parents came to visit and mom fell in love with her too. At the time, mom had a cancerous blotch on her face and was scared witless. So we gave Miss M to her to have as a companion though the treatment. Miss M stayed with my parents from then on. She was a great cat.

Mom is in the family room sobbing and wailing. My husband is sitting with her, trying to comfort her. I am in the office, wondering how I keep this family from falling over the cliff.

The head still hurts. The stomach is topsy-turvy. And I'm still feeling overwhelmed.

I have a hundred reasons for being unhappy. Unfortunately, I learned a long time ago that there is usually something wrong with the person who blames The Rest of the World...and that is what I have been doing.

I am consumed with my stress and distress over things I cannot control.

• It's a job where I depend on other people to hit my goals...but they operate with a different set of objectives. Which results in me being judged and compensated for results that they dictate.
• It's my husband...who is now earning about $12 an hour, and I am going mad. He's trying so hard to make his new business work, he refuses to acknowledge that it hasn't lifted off the ground...and it's not going to anytime soon. (Though truth be told, I spent years overspending when we did earn (alot) more money and I didn't work in partnership with him at the time. No wonder he's resisting me now and not getting a real job.)
• It's my mom who has dementia and is prone to nagging. Sometimes I yell at her to stop tormenting me, stop telling me what to do in my own home. I'm cruel and hateful in these moments.
• It's my state of poor health. Everything seems to hurt now, from my stomach to my joints to my muscles. Guess who's guilty of not exercising regularly for over three years?
• It's the stress of moving my parents into an assisted care living facility and my mother begging to "stay here and die."
• It's the act of putting the remodel on hold because of the finances. All that money and time spent...for a gorgeous set of plans.
• It's the responsibility of developing systems and managing a team of 30 people, 28 of whom are brand new to the company and working newly created positions. It's my specialty...but the workload has made my edges harden...and I have stopped doing the important things...like mentoring and training.
• It's the ongoing issue of catching front-line employees trying to rip the company off and be paid sales commission that they didn't earn. Despite auditing all sales activities and doing the Right Thing (not paying the commission, reporting the offenders to HR, altering the security team when illegal activity is occurring)...with my own team and all other employees...there is no satisfaction in catching a cheater. There is only the constant fatigue of working with so many swindlers and the incessant worry of how many other ploys are being used that still remain Under the Radar.
• It's the Boss who is a hard driving perfectionist...who holds her team to higher standards. Which is the Right Thing to do...except those standards are not mirrored by any other director in the company. And there is a point where that catches up to a person...and they begin to ask, "Where is the equity in Expectations and Deliverables?"
• It's the disgust with my lifestyle...which consists of commuting 2 hours per day, working in a highly charged environment, eating, feeding mom and then sleeping. Repeat 4 more times, throw in a weekend of sickness and there you have it. Me and My Life.
• It's the worry of how am I supposed to manage all of this...PLUS adopt 2 little babies from Russia and be a terrific mother? Then the thoughts of never being able to have children creeps into my mind and that's it. It's All Over Except for the Crying.

So as I conintue to pop-off about everything that is W-R-O-N-G in my life and point the finger at everyone else for being Wrong or Lazy or Numb...I need to look at me, and ask why I'm not taking action to fix all of these things that I don't like.

I have prayed. I have talked to people. I have sought advice from professionals. I have worked really hard at just getting through it all.

But here I sit, with more issues compounding daily. Along with the headaches.

Home sick today from pure exhaustion. I called my supervisors at noon and told them to go home and start the weekend early. We all need our rest.

I'm in a Boise State of Mind.

I don't listen to Dr. Laura very often. But a few weeks ago I caught a blip of her radio program. The caller wanted to understand why she had obsessive fantasies about other men (she's married.) In her thoughts, those men were perfect for her. Romantic, fun, energetic. Together, they would be dynamic and loving and passionate. She was worried that these fantasies meant that she no longer loved her husband, so she called into the program.

Dr. Laura's response? Escapism. This gal was escaping through her daydreaming. And not facing the issues in life.

I thought that this was a pretty good answer. Because it hit home.

I daydream all the time. And my thoughts are obsessive. Sometimes, I'll plop myself onto the Barcalounger and spend an hour lost in unconsciousness, imagining things that aren't real. But I'll tell you this...when I fall into the daydream mode, my thoughts feel real in the moment.

I don't think about other men. I daydream about a different life, in a different city...where I don't have to work so hard. A life where I have fun on the weekends, because I've got energy to get out of the house. Skiing, horseback riding, rafting, swimming in a lake.

My most recent focus has been on Boise. Voted the Best City for Mountain Biking in America. Great, year-round weather: It snows just a few days a year, averages less than 12" of rain annually, and it doesn't get too humid in the summer. And the best part is that the housing is affordable. One can purchase a lovely, executive home on the river for less than $400k. And that's top of the line, which I don't need or want. (In the Bay Area, condos run about $500,000-$600,000.) But I would love to have a home big enough for us and our 4 cats, a dog (Boston Terrier), one goat and 2 babies. A home that's paid for, so I don't have to worry about working 50 hours a week. Sigh. This is my Heaven on Earth.

The Pressure of living in the Bay Area continues to build and I find that I don't want it in my life anymore. I used to say, "Bring it on!" Now, I'm so fatigued all of the time I just want to run away.

I've discussed this at length with my husband, but we haven't made any headway. So, instead of making concrete changes...I sit here, wondering how many art museums are in Boise? Exactly how long would it take to grow my hair long enough to wear it in a braided pigtail? Which Boise house listed on realtor.com would we possibly buy? (I like this one.) What is it really like to have a White Christmas? Would I miss the California palm trees decked out with little white lights during the holidays? Do they have rodeos? Would I be able to obtain a job with Albertsons?

And how difficult is it really...to milk a goat and make cheese?