Monday, April 20, 2009


I will not even suggest to you that I am in the majority of people who are truly, honestly exhausted. Those people that are taking care of parents, children, or spouses who are critically ill, those raising more than two teenagers, or those who are trying to work four jobs to get their kid through college. No, those are the true heroes. I will tell you that over time, a certain weariness with this or that seems to be the mental equivalent of running a marathon, though. Not that I'd actually know about running a marathon because I can't even run 1/4 of a mile anymore but whatever. But what I mean is...after 32 years of working continuously, there are days that I'd just like to not have to drag myself out of the bed, find a clean pair of black pants and try to do something with my increasingly unruly hair. I'd like to just wake up when I want to, start my day slowly, and then sashay to work about noon-ish. I wouldn't even mind working until eight to get my hours in. I just know that right now, every fiber of my being is screaming..."back to bed!" and I am typing this in the hopes that I will wake up enough to get in the car and head to the job.

And somehow between two cups of coffee, the grace of God, and one of those muffins I brought home from Costco that probably cost $6.66 because I now believe them to be the muffins from hell, I'll pull it together. Somehow I'll manage to find one of the five pairs of black pants that I own in various shades of faded, put them on along with a shirt that covers my large rear assets, will put on enough makeup to suggest that I care, and will drive my oil leaking, non-working driver's window (that has now been securely shut with a screw...wish I were kidding) and transmission slipping carriage to work.

Once I arrive, I'll pour another cup of coffee if the people who refuse to make coffee and leave 1/8 of an inch remaining in the bottom don't beat me to it first...causing me to huff and puff and mumble (happens at least twice a week) and shuffle back to my desk. I will then pick up the same file I've worked for each of the past five years (because I am somewhat working in the work version of the movie "Groundhog Day") and will try to figure out if these people made any money or not last year (like anyone actually did) and deserve a continuance of their existing line of credit. Such is my life.

I love my job, but sometimes I'm in such dire need of a vacation that I run out of things to entertain myself with during the workday. Some days...even Collective Soul and Pearl Jam just aren't enough on Pati (the iPod). I am going on vacation in three weeks, and I really need the time off. I'm headed to Pennsylvania, by the way, to pay a long overdue family visit. As I am headed north, and I'm sure that with my accent, it will be immediately clear that "I ain't from around there." People will probably just ask me to talk...I think that people from the north really don't believe that we actually talk the way that we do, and so, like a trained seal, I will most likely comply.

If you are reading this, I'd appreciate any comments that you have. Some of you were expecting it to be more entertaining, and because I've had a quiet weekend, there has been little to really make me laugh. I'm sure that within the next 24 hours someone or something will catch my attention in a way that I just have to relay it here. Maybe...maybe not. So, you "Erma K" crowd...just bear with me. I'm just so tired right now that the only thing that makes me laugh is the letter to the manager of "Always" maxi pads that a friend sent me a year ago referring to their "Have a Happy Period!" campaign. Just thinking about it is already making me smile. Later!

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