Update...

I'm feeling pretty uninspired these days, so I haven't been writing anything.

I did get drafted into my first mission trip with the youth, but I already told you about that. I had an amazing time. The kids were pretty good, and the leadership was exceptional. We have a group of college kids who feel called into ministry and who work with the youth groups of our church. These interns are really on fire for the Lord, and so cool that the kids do whatever they ask. I mean, they are like the cool big brothers and sisters that they don't want to disappoint.

Which works!

The kitchen duties seemed overwhelming at first, but everything just flowed. I had a great team, and we worked together well. The kitchen was a little under-supplied, but the serving facilities were awesome! I got some good intel from our own kitchen lady, and she steered me in the right direction. Everything she said was spot on, and it was like she'd been doing this for 30 years or more. (she has...)

And the comments from the kids were so encouraging! "This is the best thing I ever ate!" was something I heard more than once. One of the interns declared the food the best camp food he'd ever had, then informed me that he'd been to camp A LOT!

Makes this kitchen lady smile, just thinking about it.

Meanwhile, God had a few things to show me while I was there. He took me out of my comfort zone to give me a little perspective on my own circumstances. Gave me a word just for me.

I needed to hear from Him, and He spoke. Revealed some personal sin to me, and told me He's gonna use me to do some work. So I've been praying a lot and staying in a general attitude of willingness to be used.

I decided to go to the church gym yesterday and get busy walking and rope jumping again, when I was snagged by the new trainer. Seems this lady was told by the Lord to help out anyone who would come, and she took my presence for willingness.

Stink.

So now I'm going daily at 10 and doing 30 minutes of cardio and about an hour of weight training.

I say that like I have been doing it for weeks, instead of two days.

Hey, commitment can come after such a short time!

'Scuse me while I hobble off to the hot tub...

Outside the Comfort Zone

I'm not really sure what happened. It really just sneaked (snuck??) up on me.

I got a call from a friend, who is organizing youth functions for our church.

"Diane, I have a need, and your name just keeps coming to mind. I was wondering if you would be willing to work on the cooking team for the mid-high mission trip next week."

Hmmm. Let me think. I am pretty free these days, but I have a Pampered Chef party next Friday at my house... (which my husband is secretly looking forward to, because it means the house will be clean...)

We will be back in time for that? Well, let me see if I can arrange childcare.

*Childcare mysteriously falls into place...

Okay, I'm in.

"Good, you will be feeding fifty people, and I need a menu and grocery list as soon as possible."

WHAT?!?!?! I thought I was just going to be HELPING, not PLANNING!!

I am NOT A PLANNER!!

*Groan... opens excel to build a menu spreadsheet...

Side kick

Okay, so you probably noticed that I have been missing for a little while. I have been having a family crisis. And since most of you are facebook friends, you likely already know of which I speak. But just in case someone is out of the loop, I'll link you to my sister's blog and you can read her version. It's her story, really. I'm just the BFF, who has jumped in as hero support.

I make a good side-kick.

Hmm... gonna have to think of a good side-kick name...

Meanwhile, I'm stewing on the sidelines with a few good zingers, which the fact that I'm trying to do the upright thing, won't allow me to scream.

We aren't really sure what to expect next, but since I'm really bad "at this game" of remembering details, even five minutes after things happen, (according to my sister, :) I have written a detailed account, for any event which should require me to recall stuff.

Thankfully, my kids are getting old enough to see what this has done to our family. I have shielded them from the truth, because it is so hard to understand, for children. Shoot! I'm almost 40, and I still don't get it. But this time, they have seen it all. They have seen the destruction and the pain. They have witnessed the brokenness and heartache. But the best thing, is that they have seen that real love doesn't always come from family. Sometimes it comes from friends and sometimes it comes from people you barely know.

And God has been with us through it all. They have seen me rely on Him in a way I never have before, giving glory to God all the way. What more could I ask for?

Lava Rock Girl.

I'm going with that one.

SO busy!

It is almost noon and what have I done today? I have been outside for a walk/run and taken a nap. I have read a bit and facebooked a bit. I have prayed for a while and caught up on a few blogs I enjoy. Basically, I have done nothing. At this very moment my children are watching their second hour of television, and their brains are turning to mush.
It 's not like I have nothing to do, mind you.
The house is a mess.
The boat needs to be finished getting clean.
The laundry should be going.
The dogs need bathed.
The wallpaper in Caleb's room needs to be finished being stripped.
I have guests coming over for dinner, and I'm not really sure what we are having yet.
I should really get busy.
After I lay out...

And..... I'm back!

Wow! Today is literally the first day of the rest of my life.
Yesterday I told Caleb I was so excited for today. "Why?" He wondered...
Because I get to do laundry. And dishes. And scrub the toilets. And mow the grass. And chop some wood. And. And. And...
Yes, after ten months of diverting my attention to the cause of paying tuition for Hailey, I am returning to my assigned role of stay-at-home-mom and homeschool teacher.
I'd like to think that I am wiser. I know for sure that I am stronger. (and thinner) :-)
When I emerge from the mountain of chores that have awaited my attention for so long, I will share what led me to this place, and details of the growing I have done this past school year.
I have missed you all, almost as much as I have missed my children.
But not quite. ;-)

Crow~ It's What's for Dinner

I feel a ramble coming on.
Yesterday I was the object of a virtual girl-gang fight, and it was absolutely surreal. Not only did I not see it coming, I didn't think it was warranted at all. But in the end, I caved. I didn't want to. I still don't want to. But I did it for Christians and for the sake of doing the right thing. In spite of the fact that I think the instigator of the mess was completely in the wrong. Way to take one for the Lord, eh? Well, let me tell ya. The fact that I am still not happy about eating it should show just how much of a hypocrite I feel like.
Sometimes doing the right thing TOTALLY SUCKS!!!
I told Shawn, after I ended it, that it is almost like the fight I'm in for my health. I don't want to eat the salad. I want the cake. But the cake is only for immediate satisfaction. So I put on my big girl panties and eat the salad. All the while, grumbling under my breath that the cake would have been much yummier. I didn't do the right thing because I wanted to, I did it because I HAD to. So what if I don't want to? The result is the same. I am fed and have the results of a good decision under my belt.
SNORT-literally!
Meanwhile, I feel battered emotionally by someone I have kept contact with over the years, solely in the hopes that she will be drawn to the things of the Lord. I know I'm not a perfect example of Christianity. HELLO? I'm more than a hundred pounds overweight! Somewhere I have idols that are quite obvious.
I wanted so badly to lash out with the pain and defensiveness that I felt. In fact, I still feel it. I spent the whole night at work feverishly praying for forgiveness and the right attitude. I'm still not there. I have moments of forgiveness and peace, but then I fall back into defense mode and wanna go kick her tail. What? I'm human, and she attacked me publicly! But, for her sake, and for the sake of her friends, who were right on board for the Diane-and-all-Christians-out-there bashing session, I apologized for offending her and removed the offensive material.
Maybe tomorrow I will stop being mad about it.

Are You Kidding Me??

Some people are just born stupid. Some of us are a little naive at times, and some of us are more than their share of, um, scatter-brained. I refuse to admit where I fall on this scale, in the effort not to incriminate myself.
Okay, fine. I admit I am quite scattered, and have to run back in the house (or send a kid, as it is easier, and doesn't require me to unbuckle my already buckled seat belt.) for something I forgot, that I will likely need while I am away from home. This might include my cell phone, Zune, sunglasses, jacket, water bottle, the other person still getting ready, etc.
I frequently set things down upon arriving home and forget where I have put them, prompting a frantic search when I am attempting to go somewhere the next time. Keys, phone, purse, jacket, water bottle, etc...
And then there are the times when the kids, in their effort to "clean" their zones, will pick up said items, and stash them in the oddest places. Most of the time, they don't even remember where they have stashed the cannot-do-without item, and there is a full-alert lock down until the item surfaces.
Thus my morning began yesterday.
I woke up at noon, and while I was sleeping, Shawn and a handy-man I know had begun the project of re-flooring the kitchen/living room. (details on that later) I have worked with this handy-man on many occasions with my mom, so I feel very comfortable around him. So I got up, and was a little surprised to find that he had brought along a helper. The job is really big, so it made sense, but the guy was a stranger to me.
ANYway, I introduced myself and explained that I was sleeping until noon because I work nights, so he didn't think I was lazy, or something, when Shawn came back in to tell me that we needed to go pick out grout.
I threw on my shoes, grabbed my purse, and checked to make sure I had my phone, so the kids could call me when one of them was touching the other, which is when they feel the need to call me.
No phone.
Now, where did I lay that thing when I came in this morning?
Hmm. I'll call it.
*Picks up house phone and dials the number*
"Hi, this is Diane...."
Straight to voicemail. Great.
Then it hit me. I'd been having problems having to re-boot it, because I never powered it off, so I decided to power it down this morning. I set it right next to the stove, on the clean kitchen counter. And left it there. Where it wasn't anymore. Suddenly, Shawn remembered seeing it there. The kids adamantly denied stashing it somewhere, but we looked in all the usual places, on top the microwave, on top the refrigerator, in the bathroom, on my night stand, on the piano, fireplace, charging station, in my purse, in the refrigerator, pantry, microwave, my purse again...
It was just gone.
Then I realized there was one person in my house I didn't know, and I told Shawn, "I don't know that guy."
Shawn said I had to ask the handy-man if there was a chance...
So I did.
"Um, I have to ask you a really hard question, and I really don't want to ask it. Is there any chance your helper picked up my phone?"
"I don't think so, but I'll ask."
*Pokes his head out the door*
"Hey, have you seen her phone?"
"What does it look like?"
*I poke my head out and say*
"It's an iPhone in a red case."
"Nope, haven't seen it."
"It was on the kitchen counter. Are you sure you didn't see it at all?"
"Nope."
At this time, I was pretty certain, but short of searching him, there was no way to know anything, so I continued the search, and left the handy-man with his helper. I could hear the handy-man through the door, but not what he was saying.
Moments later, the helper came back in the house and went into the bathroom. I waited. When he came out, Shawn and I went in to check. We each opened a drawer. Then I saw it. Stashed in a candle on the counter.
Um, no.
Needless to say, he was escorted off the property, in complete denial of the deed, and my trusty handy-man came back with his son-in-law, whom I have had the pleasure of working with and trust, and the job was resumed.
The end.

The Cruise in Retrospect

If I had to express how I feel about the cruise, I'd simply say this.

I had a fabulous time.

I was pampered.

I was cared for.

I was relaxed.

I rested.

I enjoyed myself.

That said, I could take or leave the cruise scene. I enjoyed not being responsible for food, cleaning, or childcare for a week. But we don't drink, we don't gamble, we don't care which man has the sexiest legs or the best belly flop. We don't enjoy suggestive humor all that much, and we were never really into the Beetles. And who knew that karaoke is really just an excuse to get drunk and make an idiot of yourself?!?!

We don't have money to island hop in search of the best deal on diamonds or tanzanite, so shopping isn't really our bag.

Renting a boogie board and some fins is more our speed. Playing frisbee on the beach is fun and relaxing. Watching Caleb roll around in the surf and sand is entertaining, and taking Hailey to have her hair braided by an island local suits us just fine. Touring an old military fort is educational, and shooting the breeze with the family is great.

Snuggling in a hammock grove with my sweetie is cozy, and the combined sounds of the ocean and the swaying palm trees is enchanting.

Riding ATVs up mountains and back down through sub-tropical forests is awesome, as is sampling the various native fruits and foods of a certain sulphurous island. Snorkeling around a tropical reef on a rainy day is amazing.

The color of the sea is positively alive. I am addicted to it now.

I am pretty sure that I could live comfortably on the beach where Mary and Harley got married. I hope we get to return and revisit some of our destinations someday. Meanwhile, I have tons of pictures to enjoy and remember.

Free from Fraud

She is a fraud.

A faker.

She dons her facade like a cloak for the night and fools everyone.

But they are beginning to suspect the truth.

That she is not what she seems.

Her feigned strength is fading, and she falters.

How long will it be before she fails?

Before she flings far the trappings of the role she has mistakenly assumed?

And embraces freedom?

To be who she was made to be?

To function fully as she was fashioned?

When good cleaners go bad

My mom flips houses. You know, buys foreclosed rejects, fixes them up and
POOF
sells them for a profit. So whenever she has a house that needs fixing, I usually jump in and help out. It gives me a little extra income and helps her get finished more quickly.
Win-win.
So yesterday, when I was there painting cabinet door faces, I realized a few of them were pretty dirty. The kitchen and bathroom sinks are currently disconnected, and the only water source is the outside hose. I had Hailey bring me a wet rag and the bottle of pine-sol. Pouring a bit of pine-sol on the rag as needed, I scrubbed the doors, then painted them. It wasn't until about an hour later that I realized something was wrong. I turned to look at Hailey and the room swam. Determined to finish, I quickly swiped paint on the remaining drawer faces and stood to clean up. I could barely walk! I didn't even TRY to clean my paint brush. Signing out, the list was blurry. I got in my car, thinking that if I could just get home, I could go to bed. Nothing doing. I was violently nauseated. I drove about three blocks before I pulled over and called for back-up. After being rescued by family, and resting the remainder of the evening, I looked online for some answers. Apparently, there are people who sniff pine-sol ON PURPOSE! Sheesh! But dizziness is a common side effect of breathing the fumes. I guess painting and cleaning in a closed room was a bad idea.

And now, back to our regularly scheduled program

Last night was my first night back at work, after a six week medical leave of absence.
I have to say, it was a little surreal. Everyone was surprised to see me, although no one seemed happy I was back. It was just matter of fact. She's back. Moving on.
My manager was out, but I was able to get into the facility, so she (or someone) must have put me in the system. Hopefully the fact that I couldn't clock in or out won't be a problem.
Thankfully, my doctor limited me to two hours of standing/walking at a time, so I was only there for a little while. After the first hour my foot felt like a hot branding iron was being applied directly to the bottom of it. The second hour was spent carefully watching the clock.

Meanwhile, I got my brochures and business cards from the printer, so I will be sending out tons of them tomorrow. I'm working on building a website now. Hopefully, I'll start to see some business soon.

The Impatient Patient

Wah! I am a whiney baby when I'm hurt. I don't like being in pain. I have no idea how my sister copes, having real issues with pain. My own issues are so temporary, compared with hers.
But, there you have it. I am a big, whiney baby.
The good news is that I am surrounded by people who are extremely merciful.

I ended up not getting to go to the orthopedic specialist. Turns out when you hurt yourself at work, it's considered an on-the-job injury. (even if you weren't doing your job when it happened)
Dancing isn't exactly in my job description.
I figured that since I got hurt doing something non-work-related, that it would be wrong to file for workman's compensation. Instead, I got in big, fat trouble for not reporting the injury immediately.
Well, I would be in much more trouble if I didn't have a very understanding manager. (a VUM, if you will) Apparently, it is against company policy to not report an injury. In fact, it's such a no-no that I learned I would be given a warning letter, which would stay in my file for a year, meaning I can't bid on any other jobs for that time. But my VUM appealed to the OSHA director with my reasoning, and it seems that they may decide to give me grace, since I thought I was doing the right thing.
Meanwhile, I was given a list of approved doctors to visit, and saw one of them the next day. She concurred with Dr. Wilcox's diagnosis of a torn plantar fascia, but decided to just give it time to heal. I have to go back in a week and let her re-check. I still have to stay off it; I'm not allowed to drive; I have to ice it for 15 minutes every hour and take the medicine Dr. Wilcox had already prescribed.
But I have to say, I really want to chuck the crutches and just WALK to the bathroom when I need to potty. I am tired of watching TV. I would really love to just read a book, but I can't go to the library. The anti-inflammatory drug I am taking knocks me flat, and gives me a headache.
But I am home. I have seen my kids a lot. I have held my doggies. I have slept during the night. I have had really great friends bring me dinner. I am being well taken care of. I have no reason to complain.

Raining and pouring, etc.

Several weeks ago, I fell and hyperflexed my knee. It has been a miserable recovery, but I am almost there. Unfortunately, due to some frivolity on my part, I cannot walk, yet again, because I tore the plantar fascia on the bottom of my right foot.

The ER doctor has referred me to an orthopedist and I'll be checking in with him early next week. We shall see. I have no idea how long I'll be out of work, but I am under orders to not bear weight on it, prompting me to hobble around on some very fashionable crutches.

Epic Fail

I have mentioned before that I don't like people who don't do their job. And particularly, one person in particular gets on my last particular nerve, but I'm REALLY trying to keep a good attitude about it. Last night, (still today to me, because I haven't been to bed yet) she was in rare form. She doesn't do anything and she treats me like I'm an idiot. I have a very strong suspicion that she doesn't like me, which is fine, because the feeling is mutual. But we do have to work together, so I try to be nice.
But God has been on my case about my attitude. I can't do anything about her actions, but I can do something about my REactions. So tonight, whenever I would feel the frustration building, I would sing a song I learned as a child, which is basically Philippians 4:8 put to music:
"Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things."
Meanwhile, I am trying to keep my mind stayed on God and how He so richly blessed me all day yesterday.
It started with my manager letting me go home early so I would be well rested for an appointment I had. Then, at this appointment, I took a very tough test and miraculously passed it. I say miraculously, because there's no way I got any of the answers right on purpose. I didn't have time to do the complex math problems, much less decide which multiple choice answer to pick. So, either God directed my hand in the random choices I made, or the correct answer wasn't really the point. They told us to not leave anything blank. I answered everything.
Then I got a message from a friend whose child has outgrown the uniform shirts I needed to buy for Hailey, and wants to bless us with them. Hailey gets some used, but still in good condition uniform shirts for free!
So tonight I was determined to keep my chin up and not let her get to me. I was fine almost all night.
Then IT happened.
Every night we go load a plane near a building with a restroom. Every night, several of us go into this building and use said restroom. Tonight, however, I asked if it was okay for me to go inside and she told me we weren't allowed to go in there. I told her I go in there every night. Apparently, we aren't really supposed to go in, because the pilots don't like to share their nice building with hourlies. So I can't go use the restroom.
She says, "You should have gone before you came out to the plane."
I say, "I didn't want to leave the slide, when I always use the bathroom out here."
She says, "Well, you can't go in there anymore."
So I say, "Well, then, you'll have to take me back."
She says, "I can't take you back now. We have to load the plane."
I lost it.
Testimony~gone.
I got off the people mover and shouted that she could have told me that before she drove me all the way out to the plane, stormed off, threw my bag to the ground, and proceded to tell the rest of the crew just what I thought of being treated that way.
After it was all said and done, I had to apologize for over reacting and being childish. Who knows if I will be in trouble for making a fuss, but I did apologize to everyone individually.
But the thing I was most grieved about was that I was trying so hard to be a witness to these people. I had even had the chance to share the gospel with some of them. But I am still a sinner. We all make mistakes. Thankfully, God's mercies are new every morning.
And guess what?
It's morning!

Clean-up on aisle "Whine"

After a few weeks of back-breaking, sweat-inducing work, I have come to the conclusion...
I'm crazy.
We already knew it, but now it is confirmed.
I thought going to work at night would be a cinch, because I'm a night owl.
Turns out that staying up on facebook and watching the tube until 3 am doesn't exactly condition you for throwing boxes of all sizes and weights for hours on end during the night.
And don't even get me started about the whole heat issue.
There's something to be said for good old fashioned air conditioning.
I said that last night, and Shawn about snorted tea out his nose.
Meanwhile, I had a mini breakdown a couple of nights ago. Years of sleeping for 9-10 hours per night has softened me. No comments.
Now I have to try to function on about 6-7. It ain't working. Meltdowns are inevitable under these circumstances.
I don't eat much, because, when do I eat? I wake up around 2:30. Too late for lunch, and I'm not hungry yet. So I have dinner with the family. Then a snack of cheese and fruit or a lunchable around 2:30 am.
That's it.
So it would be obvious that the weight should just melt right off, wouldn't you think?
Well, you'd be WRONG!
I guess my body is in starvation mode, preserving every drop of precious (note the sarcasm) fat, so I can function during the night.
Whatever.
Meanwhile, back to the breakdown at hand...
I don't know when to do laundry, because I'm basically a walking zombie. I get up, but my brain is not engaging. The laundry is piled up, including the clean laundry, which needs to be folded. The toilet needs scrubbing, I think I could sweep up the hair on my bathroom floor and knit a wig for the dog. (who I accidentally shaved a stripe into the side of... don't ask)
I don't do much around the house anymore. The kids do most of it. It's not fair to them, and they do a kid-level job of it. But I have to be thankful for what I can get these days.
I miss my kids, I miss my bff, who I only have time to text now, I miss my husband, and I miss my dogs.
The end.

Operation kill 'em with kindness

Romans 12: 17-21
17 Recompense to no man evil for evil. Provide things honest in the sight of all men.
18 If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men.
19 Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.
20 Therefore if thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink: for in so doing thou shalt heap coals of fire on his head.
21 Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good.

So tonight I began the operation. I wasn't really sure how it would be received. I turned my body perpendicular to my conveyor belt, and whenever I had a spare second, I reached over to the belt that runs behind where I stand. The packages come down a circular slide onto the belt, where they do not always land with the labels up. It takes a few seconds for each package to be flipped so the lable can be read and the person working the belt can decide where to push them down the next slide. Sometimes, it gets overwhelming because so many packages come at once and you have to flip, read, compute, and sometimes slide them all at the same time. So I decided to try something. I leaned over and flipped every package I could, whenever I could. This way when they reached Kris*, they were already visible. It cut down on his work considerably.
Then I started talking to Chelsea (amazing, tiny, machine girl) about how when she's out tomorrow and all next week, that Kris* and I will have to try to keep up with her job, and how I wasn't sure we were up to the challenge. I made sure to say it cheerfully, including Kris* in the comment, so he'd know I was counting on him. Then I turned on the charm. Whenever we had a quick second, I started talking to him. I asked him if he had another job, how long he'd been there, did he have kids, what was his favorite part of the job, commented that he didn't say much... Just small talk, really. And guess what!?!
Go ahead, guess.
He's been there for 23 years, he has done quite a few things out there, he doesn't have another job, working the one he has is enough BS for him to take, he sleeps in his other time, he doesn't have any kids, his favorite part of the job is the paycheck, and before the night was over he was helping me and Chelsea pick up packages that had been stacked in the walkway when the belts and slides were overloaded!
Now I have someone else to work on. Somehow I don't think charm will work with this one...

Zero

Apparently I have no tolerance for people who don't do their job.

Pay no attention to this plank in my eye, or the laundry needing done, or the dishes piled up....

Shut up, conscience!

As I was saying, people who stand around, looking very busy, while the rest of us bust our whatchamacallits, really, REALLY annoy me.

Don't worry, I'll tell you how I really feel.

I mean, seriously... There's a young lady who works on the same conveyor belt where I work. She runs all over the place zipping packages down the slide to their appropriate places. She runs up and down the belt, sliding packages hither and yon. She's amazing. She's tiny. She's a machine.

The guy who stands behind her, facing the opposite belt NEVER moves from the place he stands. He NEVER offers a hand when she is lifting an obviously heavy or cumbersome package.

I asked the young woman tonight if there was something wrong with Kris* (no offense, Chris, I pulled this name out of the sky). She tells me that he is kinda weird. He does the same thing every night. He comes in, he works until 2:30 and then leaves. No one questions him. Oh, and his daddy is Phred Smyth's* personal pilot.

Oh, now I get it.

So from now on, I am going to try to engage this man. I am going to give him EVERY opportunity to help out when I am in need of assistance.

It's how I roll.

Meanwhile, we have a certain lady on our team who is very similar, in that she does NO work. I find this absolutely unacceptable. But I don't know what I can possibly do about it. Tonight I tried to give her the opportunity to lift a finger and she told me that I was doing fine.

Whatever. I'm gonna pray for her.

And for me.

That I don't push the wrong person and end up in trouble. ;-)

*Spellings of actual names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent.
And also, so that a google search doesn't end me up in trouble with the big guy.

Move over Brad, Denzel, and Johnny Depp!

You have nothing on this sexiest man alive!

Yesterday afternoon, as I was walking down the hall to put away the freshly folded laundry, I heard curious sounds coming from my bedroom.

I opened the door, and there HE was...

Shirtless....

Vacuuming the floor of the room he had cleaned...

Without even being asked.

"What can I do for YOU?"


Mmmm, Mmmm, MMMM!

Now, THAT'S sexy!

Let Me Hold You Longer

It's a weekend of lasts for me here.
I am so excited to be going back to work for a company that has so much to offer. I am eagerly anticipating getting back in the swing of things I already know how to do. I am looking forward to re-training and getting recertified for the many things I did when working there before.
But, lest it seem like I am simply bursting with glee at the changes heading my way, let me tell you. I am filled with trepidation and fear.
I will be leaving my family every day to go do something they do not participate in. I will be entering a world they have never seen and begin to speak of things they know not about.
I will need to organize and plan, which has never come easy for me. I will have to rely on my husband and children in a way I never have. I will be tired and sore and cranky. But I will get stronger. I will probably lose a little weight, even. I will work hard and feel a sense of accomplishment.
Meanwhile, I'm going to go lie down with my son for a few minutes on this last weekend I have before becoming a working mom.
And I will try very hard not to cry.

These boots are made for...

When you start at FedEx, you never know where you will end up. The whole operation is massive, and the hub is acres upon acres.
The job may take you inside, where you move packages, or it may take you outside, where you move containers of packages.
And if you get lucky, you may get to do both.
But whatever the case, the safety shoes you are required to wear will need to last you for a while. It is wise to choose well. I chose a pair of waterproof ones.
Another of my fellow hirees was looking around at the selection, and in my desire to help a girl out, since I've been here before, I suggested to her that she select waterproof shoes, as well.
"What for?"
"Just in case they get wet."
"Well, I ain't working outside!"
I just looked at her in amazement. There is no way she knows where she's going.
I told her she will be outside if they assign her to an outside position.
I don't see her making it.