half gone, or half left to go?

I have been a blogger for six months today as I started on the last day of December last year. 

Where has this year gone? Just last week I was sitting at the downtown concert hall listening to a band play and keeping an eye on my watch, waiting for midnight, just a couple days ago it was frigid and blustery outside, and I swear day before yesterday I was celebrating my birthday. It feels that way, it feels as if maybe a month has passed since I started this blog, but certainly not six. How does that happen? Where does the time go?

With the way time melts and folds in on itself, it's no wonder I have a hard time remembering specifics on anything. I can't remember when my headaches started. I remember my first real migraine, my first aura-- how do you forget something like that? Sitting on the couch with my husband at the condo we rented before we bought our house, watching tv, and all the sudden I couldn't see it. I turned and looked at him and couldn't see his face. I thought I was dying. I called my mom and she knew exactly what it was. But these other headaches, the ones with no aura that last for days, quietly pounding in my skull, I don't know when they started. They snuck up on me. I will mark the date of their death though, and celebrate it. 

My husband is having a terrible month at work. They're just not selling. I thought the economy was supposedly picking up, but they're worse off now than they were back in February, which is notoriously slow no matter the economy. We're ok though. I keep getting raises, we've got savings, and we're cutting back. I just wish that he could find a better job, one that he enjoys, one that he wants to get up and do every day. That's my biggest wish right now.

a moment

Thank you all for your comments to my last post. It's nice to know I'm not alone. I feel alone in my mind, alone in my house, sometimes. My husband, as wonderful and loving as he is, is not very emotionally connected to anything beyond his love for me. I've only seen him cry three times (once when he thought we were breaking up a long long time ago, once when we moved to London and he said goodbye to his little brother, and when his Grandmother died last July, but that was only for a second). He laughs a lot, gets angry on occasion, but he hardly ever gets sad. I know for a fact it's not that he's hiding it-- he just truly does not get sad. He's somehow learned not to dwell, not to worry. Even on my darkest days he makes me smile, he reminds me that nothing is really that bad. So he's good to have around. But I needed that reminder that I, in fact, am not alone in feeling that profound, sudden, unexplained sadness that comes over me. Thank you.

My head has been hurting since yesterday afternoon. It's so frustrating. If I'm doing something, concentrating on the words flowing from my mind to my fingertips through the keyboard and out into the world to you, I don't hurt. As soon as I stop, as soon as my fingers quiet and I look up from the screen, it pounds, pulses with my blood through my forehead and behind my eyes. I've done nothing all day, which has been very nice actually, but it would have been nicer if I hadn't been in pain the whole time. 

There are worse things in the world, just not in my world, not at this moment.

My parents are traveling out west right now, and they sent me a couple of their pictures tonight. My dad is an amazing photographer and is having the time of his life. Looking at this one is so peaceful, I can't imagine what it was like to be there.

the brink of despair

I think it's a condition of being human, of being flawed and imperfect, of being placed into a spinning world with other flawed, imperfect beings, circling each other in this dance, trying not to step on toes and as a result crashing into one another, that causes all of us at certain points of every day to be pushed to the brink of despair.

There are times I'm sitting minding my own business, and I realize, somewhere deep inside, back in the depth of my soul somewhere in the dust and out of the light, that I could weep. About what, I don't know. If I let go and felt what I really felt... I worry about doing this. I worry about any of us doing this, about knocking down our walls and truly feeling anything. I don't think humans are built for it. We all know it, that feeling that if we just let go, we might never be able to return to what was, so we grasp at the walls and pull at the ropes of who we are, trying desperately not to fall into that trap.

I am a happy person, so I wonder sometimes where this despair comes from when it surfaces. I know where it really comes from, that it's a symptom of being human, of the loss and anger and disappointment we all have, but what causes it to surface I don't know. 

You'd be lying if you told me you don't know what I mean. Or you're lying to yourself about what you feel, about what that tiny voice in the back of your throat is really saying sometimes, what it's really screaming through the cotton you've stuffed in your ears. There's no such thing as happiness all the time. If you're not sad, if you're not in pain, a least a little, even at the best of times, you're either not paying attention or you're numb and feeling nothing. 

Today is a thoughtful day. My days have names; when I wake, they introduce themselves to me one by one and take my hand as I step out of my bed and into the morning. When I close my eyes at night they fade into the blackness, sometimes returning sooner than I hope, sometimes disappearing for longer than I'd like. Thoughtful has not graced me with her presence much lately as Determination and Exhaustion are more forceful characters and tend to push her out of the way. I'm thankful for her success today.

Grateful Thursday

I woke up this morning happy that it's Thursday, which is a change from last week, to say the least. 

1) I got another raise. These raises are extra-helpful when business is down at my husband's mostly commission-based job.

2) A house full of animals. This one I say through slightly gritted teeth. I'm trying hard to remember today all the joy they bring into my life after the crazy morning I had with them. Bub with his stretching groans and playful eyebrows, how he always wants to snuggle with me, and has been a faithful best friend for seven years. Eliza, the kitty, the momma, who wants to kiss our noses when we come home every night, who loves my husband like he was her baby. And Daisy, who's only temporary while my parents are out of town-- her muffled growling with her mouth full of toys, her soulful eyes, and her love-me-love-me personality are impossible not to adore. Even when they're loud or dirty or in my face, I still love all of them.

3) Air conditioning!! It's 98 degrees outside, no chance of rain (aka sweet relief). The only time I go out is to walk to my car, where I blast the a/c constantly, and to get the mail. I practically run to keep my time outside to a minimum. I forget every winter what 98 with 80% humidity feels like. Must be some sort of coping mechanism my brain has developed (for which I am also grateful).

4) My naturally high metabolism. I'm hungry all the time so I eat all the time, but I tend to hover around the same weight. My boss has to diet constantly and work out too. Of course I eat more healthily than some, with my natural inclination towards nuts and whole wheat stuff rather than processed food. But I do enjoy sweets. I'm going to have trouble if this metabolism of mine ever slows down, which I'm sure it will.

5) A good movie. The other night we watched an old Jimmy Stewart movie, last weekend we saw Up, and we're talking about going to see the Hangover tonight. A good movie can make us laugh or cry, but the most important thing it can do is make us forget our own lives, our problems or worries, for a little while. For this reason I do not like movies with sad endings or even bittersweet-- I will never see Marley and Me or that new movie about the little girl with cancer. No, there are enough terrible and sad things that happen in real life. I watch movies to escape, not to be reminded of them. So I'm grateful for all the good movies that make me think, remind me of how wonderful and surprising life can be, and most of all that bring some joy into my life.

jinx

I just laughed out loud for about 3 minutes straight.

I didn't go to my neurologist appointment. Before I get chastised, let me explain: I have a good friend who works in medicine. I should have asked her a long time ago, but with as busy as I've been at work, it never occurred to me until yesterday to ask her opinion on the doctor I was going to see.

"Shady," she said. "Shady is the only word I can think of to describe that hospital."

Luckily she had a recommendation, and after checking them out I realized how much better off I'll be at that clinic than the original. The doc there even specializes in menstrual migraines. So I cancelled and rescheduled with the new doctor. Even though I haven't had a migraine with an aura in two months or any other headache in two weeks, I decided I still need to find a doctor. They always come back.

So why am I laughing, you ask?

I'm laughing at the absurdity of life, the complete ironical occurrences that pop up now and then. I'm laughing because while sitting here in my den with just my dogs, resting, watching a Golden Girls rerun on Lifetime, a blind spot appeared where Bea Arthur's head should be, followed quickly by flashing yellow and blue lights. 

I hope laughter is the best medicine. That, an imitrex, and a big ol' Dr. Pepper should fix me tonight. And now I've got something to tell my doctor when I go see him soon.

Does anyone believe in jinxes? In ninth grade, while changing in our locker room before a big basketball game, I bragged to a friend that I'd never broken a bone. An hour later I was in the emergency room with a twist-broken pinky, waiting for surgery to insert pins to start. Last week I said that as soon as I cancelled my appointment I'd have a migraine, and here we are. I need to keep my mouth shut. Locked up and the key thrown away.

lately

I don't have much to say lately. I feel restful, sleepy, with nothing but white noise playing in my head.

Work has taken up most of my brain power, not that I'm complaining. I've gotten a lot accomplished and feel it will pay off soon. I'm a bit nervous that we're pushing to release our new software too soon-- there are still so many bugs. We need the money to fix the bugs though, so it's a catch 22. I've never worked in software before. Part of the problem is that you have to have beta testers, and we have plenty of internal testers, but you have to put it out in the real world and let real world users use it to really beta test it. And a lot of the issues they report are user error, not software error, but it piles up so much that you forget, statistically, what percentage is actually a problem that needs to be fixed on your end. It makes me glad I don't work in the technical department, although since I'm the sort-of customer service gate person, I see a lot of complaining. 

I am keeping my neurologist appointment tomorrow. I had a small headache on Saturday, but nothing like I have had. I figure as soon as I cancel it I'll start getting them again-- that's just the way these sorts of things work. But I'll establish a relationship with him so that when they start up again, which they always do, I'll have a place I can go. I will be taking a half day, since the office is an hour from here, and I hate to leave the office right now. 

So I work all day, go home and cook dinner, grout a little bit more on my fireplace project (it's very cleansing work, despite how dirty I get), watch some tv with my husband, and go to bed. I'm enjoying my routine. There's peace in it.

Back to work. 

an ode to what I used to be

I was thinking this morning as I was getting dressed about how different I am, inside and out, from just 6 or 7 years ago. Getting ready for class back then, I would have pulled out the first clean smelling t-shirt I could find-- tight fitting vintage baby tees (with no bra as I'm barely a B) was all I wore. I loved a good mini skirt, the shorter the better, with fishnet stockings and tall biker boots. I had this one olive green skirt with buckles all the way up one side. My arms were always covered in rubber bangles or tied up with ribbons or leather cuffs. I loved pink and black or red and black or blue and black, but always black. My hair was cut off at my chin, asymmetrically, and black-black, blue-black.

This morning I put on a turquoise loose fitting tank top (with a bra), a black cotton skirt, and black strappy beaded sandals. No jewelry other than my diamond stud earrings and my trusty watch. So I guess I've just toned it down. I've toned everything down. I needed to-- living at full volume was sucking out all my energy. 

But in ode to who and what I used to be, to the raging, angry, and wild girl, the one who'd cut and dye her hair without a second thought with her own hands, walk outside in her underwear, go without a bra to work, would protest inequality and injustice with every breath, and chase any guy she wanted before he could chase her, I give you Bikini Kill with Rebel Girl.

Grateful Thursday, if a bit begrudgingly

I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. I've been angry since yesterday that none of my coworkers feel it's right or necessary to update me on the happenings at the convention even though I've worked my ass off for this all year. The two times I've been called, it's been more like an attack-- how I missed putting an appointment on my boss's calendar (turns out he made the appointment and didn't add it) and also why I hadn't answered someone's email (because it wasn't to me, went to someone else's inbox, and I never saw it). I know they're just super busy and stressed out, but come on.

I'm trying to think of this week as my mini-vacation from them. It's really hard for me to spend so much time with the same people. My husband is the only person in the world I can live with, and even that is hard some days (I'm sure he would agree!). I've enjoyed the quiet here for the most part. I've gotten a lot of work done. I'm even starting to make up new things to do today, good ideas I've had that I thought I'd never get around to doing.

1) So I'm grateful for the quiet that leads to productivity. And I am grateful for this job, as difficult as it is sometimes, because in most cases he is a very good boss, much better than some of the hateful, passive-aggressive people I've worked for in the past. 

2) My fellow bloggers, especially the few who make an impact on my life nearly every day (you know who you are) by making me smile, think, cry, or laugh. You remind me there's so much more to life than the little bubble in which I am encased most of the time.

3) The ability to make a difference, even if very small. I donated a chunk of money to our local humane society today, in honor of my Bub. They're building a new shelter, and oh how they need it. They currently work out of an old mobile home and a shack of a cat building, surrounded by little chicken-wired areas for dogs. The new place is going to be amazing. So I'm happy I have the financial stability to be able to donate to this cause. Even if it's just a drop in the bucket to the overall cost of the building.

4) I haven't had a headache in two weeks. Isn't that always the way-- I make a doctor's appointment and the problem goes away. But hey, at least I'm not in pain.

5) My husband. I've said it before and I'll say it again. He's the love of my life and I'm grateful for every day that I get to spend with him.

bugged

The English language is such an interesting thing. How does one three-letter word have so many uses and meanings? How does anyone foreign ever get a grasp on a language with which its native speakers so often struggle themselves?

Today I am bugged in several different ways:

1) How did I go from such a busy week to such a boring one? I've literally wasted three hours of my life this morning. I've answered about 6 emails, swept, and now I'm twiddling my thumbs, wondering if I can get my boss's tv to work or if this street is too crowded for me to go sit outside and sun bathe a bit. I'm annoyed that I worked so hard last week "just in case" something happens this week. I'm half-way through and the most important thing that's happened is that my boss lost his confirmation number for the hotel and I had to get it to him right away. Wow.

2) Our new software is full of problems. Just tiny little bugs like misspelled words and uncommonly used links that go to the wrong place. Luckily I'm not in the tech department. They are busy this week. 

3) I swept because the bug man came yesterday. When I walked in this morning there were dead bugs everywhere, tiny roaches and beetles and centipedes and spiders. Yuck. I just shivered. So now after sweeping them all back outside, I feel covered in bugs myself. Every time a hair tickles my shoulder or I get an itch on my knee, I think it's a bug and I slap at it. I'm grossed out.

My biggest decision yesterday was lunch, and it looks that way again today. It's silly that when I'm busy I'll eat whatever you put in front of me (even McDonalds "fish" filet...) and when I'm bored I agonize over what to eat, what to eat. Pimento cheese with tomato from the deli down the street? Thai fried rice? Sushi? A veggie plate lunch from the diner in the town center? Decisions, decisions. sigh

leftovers

My office is empty except for one other person, the new guy, here to answer tech questions. I'm here for all other questions. What was a whirlwind of activity this morning suddenly ceased at 10 a.m. when everyone pulled away, off to New Orleans to an industry convention. I feel a little left behind, passed by, a little left over, like day-old casserole pushed to the side. But it's ok. Some casseroles are better a day old. And someone has to watch this place. They all call me the Momma around here (meaning I clean up their "messes" and prevent them from happening in the first place), so who better to watch the house while the children go out to play? 

My coworker's office is all the way in the back, and I'm all the way in the front. Occasionally I hear a squeaking chair or a cough. Otherwise nothing but the sound of my fingers tapping away here, the boop noise when my husband sends me an instant message, or rarely the chirp of a new email. I do have to lead a software training at 1, which should be interesting as it's not something I normally do. Fully capable, just not practiced.

Husband and I started our tiling project last night. I will add a post full of pictures when it's done, start-to-finish. We're not very good at the whole measuring thing. When we added a brick border to our flower beds last spring, we over-bought and now have about ten extra feet of brick just sitting in a pile at the back of our house. These tiles were even harder to measure, in 13" x 13" sheets, going in odd places like 4" wide and 3' tall sections on either side of the fireplace. How many sheets does that take?? Apparently not as many as we ordered as it looks like we will have two full sheets plus a few random bits left over after we're done. We figured we would have just bits of one left when we bought them. Better safe than sorry, I suppose.

I can't decide what I want for lunch. Fast food? No. A cheese sandwich from the fridge? Boring. A smoothie? Not enough. My coworker/friend brought mac and cheese, homemade, and left it in the fridge for me. Other people's leftovers are always better than my own. I think I should go heat some up.

the colors of Saturday

Cannas, gladiolas, and hydrangeas all blooming in my yard. They make me happy.

transparency

The new guys says he avoids confrontation.

"So do I," I nodded in agreement, not able to say more with a mouth full of taco. I avoid it at all turns in my life, knowing that confrontation only makes me feel weak and silly while to others it imparts strength and assuredness. I'm uncomfortable with arguing, whether I'm involved in the argument or not. I prefer everyone to be happy, peaceful, and serene, like I am most of the time.

Life isn't that pleasant or easy though. There are people in all of our lives who create drama and pick out our pet peeves to grind them in our faces, people who thrive on making others miserable, people so miserable themselves, or anxious, or tired, they don't know or care that they're like beacons of unhappiness, shining their dull light on the rest of us. 

I have two such people in my work life. In work, you can't pick with whom you associate. They're there and you have to deal with them. In my private life, I cut out these people like coring an apple-- carefully but ruthlessly. Even if they're blood. I only get one life; I have to keep it sane. Luckily I don't work closely with either one of the two drama queens at work, and luckily all the new additions are great. 

"Yeah, but I wouldn't want to be on your shit list," the other new guy says to me, glancing up from his plate. I ask him what he means, not understanding how transparent I am, how within a week he has pinned me down, analyzed and dissected me, and understands how I operate from within. 

"You're the type that lets things boil below the surface and then finally one day explodes, aren't you? It doesn't happen often, but I bet it's scary when it does. I hope it never happens to me."

I raise my left eyebrow at him, wipe the smile from my face, and tell him he'd better just watch his step around me. I let that linger for a second, and then laugh at him and with him. 

Grateful Thursday

1) The little down time that I've gotten this week-- I've really appreciated it more than I usually do. An hour doing a jigsaw puzzle with my husband? Heaven.

2) The power of a good movie. I just saw Gran Torino. I hope I have the strength to recognize when someone needs my help and that I have the ability to lend an ear and a hand without expecting anything in return.

3) I'm glad tomorrow is the last day of this hell week, and that I can count down the days to some real relief in a trip to the beach for nearly a week in mid-August.

4) Two friends told me they were pregnant this week, one due Jan 1st and one Jan 5th! What are the chances of that? One is young and just starting out, the other older and having probably the last of theirs. Despite my quandary over whether to have kids of my own, I'm always happy to see other people have their wishes for children fulfilled.

5) My boss told me I'm due for a raise very soon. That will be nice-- I plan on putting more in savings every month, equally between retirement and our Italy trip fund. Because what's life without living?

I've got a couple posts brewing in my head, things that have occurred in the last week or so that need to be more deeply explored. I wonder when I'll ever get to them. At work I have no time, and when I get home I'm sick of looking at this laptop and my husband gives me the evil eye when I reach for it. I just need to learn to condense my thoughts a bit... ha.

busy busy me

I think I'm going to have to break from blogging for a while. It was going to happen whether I wanted to or not. Work is keeping me so busy lately I hardly have time to think. I didn't get home until 7:30 last night. This won't last much longer, but for now it has to be this way-- we have to get certain processes in order to save all our souls in the long run. I imagine I'll check back in on Thursday.

I am worried about my closest co-worker, the only other full-time female in the office. She's not handling the stress as well and says she wants to quit and move away. She's not from here and hasn't been here long, so she doesn't have many friends. She drives to her parent's home almost every weekend though, so I don't know how she expects that to change. I think I finally convinced her to stick it out, telling her that she's going to start going out with me and my friends on the weekend. But how do you help someone else manage stress when you see it affecting them? I'm pretty good at managing my own, but I don't know how to help another there. I brought cookies to work today and am planning on having a quiet lunch with her out of the office. Those were my only solutions.

Everyone have a great week!

hot

I'm HOT. This has been a HOT weekend. It's over ninety and I sat in the sun for four hours yesterday, four hours today, just to watch our team lose the tournament. Oh well, we tried. And I only got a tiny bit of sunburn. We were invited to eat catfish tonight but we're just too hot to eat right now. I even took a cold shower and then chugged some ice water, but my skin seems to be radiating heat. I'm too hot to even finish this blog update. I need to sit on the edge of this couch with no limb touching another and the fan blowing directly on me until I get so cold I can't feel my toes anymore. Then maybe I'll be alright.

the great debate

I bite my tongue. I keep the words inside, the anger and contempt, the adoration, the disagreement, the celebration. I live in my head, rehearsing some play that will never make it to the stage. Am I afraid? I cringe when people touch me. Don't hug me. Don't pat me on the back. I don't know how to react, bristling quietly at the intrusion. I'm awkward and shy, not knowing how to return the gesture, not knowing where to look or what to say. I think I keep that anxiety hidden, not letting the toucher see, but maybe I don't. I'm not touched often.

I'm angry, so angry, so hurt and annoyed and pained, at my brother. So angry because now years-- decades-- after the initial hurt, that wound has been reopened. I still can't bring myself to call him, the master manipulator, or his little brother. My mouth would not be guarded. I can't even put it properly in words here. I'm cut to the core of myself, and the slightest twist, the lightest laugh, the quietest cough of a memory of him and I cry out in agony, the hastily-done stitches pulling at the edges. I am betrayed and thus singular.

I am not a debater. My thoughts get tangled up on my tongue and spill out disarranged. I sweat, my voice shakes, and I'll cry if you let me, or even if you don't. I dislike confrontation of any sort, academic or personal. I don't speak up anymore, not like I used to. I wonder sometimes what happened to that raging girl, the one who didn't give a damn about contrary opinions. Now I'd rather remain a mystery, a quiet enigma, than be deserted. Most don't agree with my pacifistic, inclusive, and empathetic way of being and seeing.  

It's so painful, this thing that's so close and yet so far out of reach. To act out the rambling world I create in my mind, I could live out loud, expressing every thought that came, but I wouldn't be me. I am quiet now and have chosen a quiet life. I am whole. I do not feel lost or lonely, and I am content. I suppose that's all that matters.

There are moments, though, tangled up in the contentedness, like now, when I want to scream.

Grateful Thursday

1) I received my first blog award! Yippee! Thanks to Harmony at Harmony's Travels who passed this Lemonade award on to me for being a grateful and positive person. I've found her blog to be a source of positivity for me, so I know why she received this award herself. I sure do love lemonade too! I'd like to pass it on to Joy at Red Silk Streams. Her blog always leaves me happy, thoughtful, and content.

2) The software website I've been working so hard on for the last three weeks went LIVE yesterday afternoon. Woohoo! It's not perfect, but for three weeks work it's pretty spectacular.

3) I have gladiolas and lilies blooming in my yard, and my blue blue blue hydrangea is peeking out too. Pictures to come soon, as soon as it stops raining on them.

4) The Official last weekend of baseball. We won the tournament last week, so we get to play again this weekend. If we win, we get to go onto Omaha for the college world series, but that's a long shot. Weirder things have been known to happen! But I am glad this will be it for the season at home-- at least a little glad. It's getting too hot.

5) The sun and the moon, the wind and rain, the sky above me and the earth below, the trees, the flowers, the birds and bees, and everything else that makes this world a beautiful place in which to live. 

heat waves

I feel greasy and dry today. An oxymoron. The hot sun and humid wind has zapped all the moisture from my skin after sitting four nights in a row at the baseball field. No amount of scrubbing seems to remove the layers of SPF 55 sunscreen, so thickly applied to my pale, sensitive skin. The dust and dirt and grass feels imbedded into my feet and hands. It's a good dirty, a restful and happy dirty.

I'm also very hungry. Eating at the field is hard for a vegetarian. We have a grill, and the grill master is good about keeping me sated, but this weekend everyone was more interested in the games than the food and socializing. I've gone four nights without a proper dinner. Last night was a Sonic grilled cheese, overdone tator tots, and a sweet strawberry slush eaten on the fly in the first inning. I was hungry again by the ninth. I don't remember eating at all Sunday night. It's no way to live.

I need to do laundry. If you've never visited the deep South before, let me tell you about our summers. My early May birthday is the gate that opens to a wave of heat and humidity lasting until Halloween at least. At sun-up the temperature has already reached 80 some days, a scorching, melting 95 by noon. Even the shade offers little relief because the humidity can find you there too. Humidity is such a benign sounding word, like the warm air that helps you get over a cold or relaxes you in a sauna. It should be called butter-air or air-so-thick-you-need-a-knife. You're wet the minute you step out the door, if you can step, as the wetness engulfs you, sticking your clothes to every part of you, frizzing and flattening your hair, leaving a layer of dew on your skin that quickly mixes with the sweat the downright sweltering heat has immediately produced from you. It takes your breath away. There is no wearing something twice in the summer here, and after a long weekend of dressing nice but out in the sun, I'm nearly out of clothes.

I'm also a little bit annoyed, but amused. My office phone rings, I pick it up and am immediately ambushed by a gruff, rude male voice demanding my name, position, and physical address. I oblige with my first name and town, eventually my street, but I'm not giving anything else until I have more information from this abrupt man. In an accusatory voice, full of conspiracy theories, he complains about an unknown business calling him and says he will not give out his name or number until he knows who has been calling him. How in the world, I ask, am I supposed to find that out without a name or number for reference? Walk around the office saying "who's used the phone today to call a man?" I have a one-up on him, having caller i.d., but I don't let on just yet. I want to see how far he'll push it. Ten minutes later of going around and around this, me having determined this guy is a complete whack job (I'm going to come to his house and steal his things? Why would I call first?), I say "Mr. Smith (using his name from the i.d. for the first time), I have caller i.d. so I have your name and phone number here. I'll find out who's calling you. Until then I'd appreciate it if you'd let me get back to my work." And I hang up. Turns out, one of our clients was having a hard time with one of their customers, so they passed his name onto our IT manager. I don't know why-- his explanation was "they like the way I handle people." I suppose I get that, he's a down-to-earth kind of guy and this customer sounded like those are the only types with whom he could ever get along. The IT manager had been trying to reach him, leaving him messages. I knew nothing about it. Being the person that answers the phones, you'd think that would be pertinent information for him to pass along.

Greasy, dry, hungry, dirty, and annoyed is no way to be. At least under it all I'm still happy today.