O IS FOR OBVIOUSLY

Leading up to the summer of 2016, my then boss at the time use to brag that he was the 9th Canadian to put his name on the list for the purchase of a Tesla electric SUV. 

Well, the photo shown here was the day it arrived at the office. 

I disclosed that a close friend of mine (also a P. Eng.) was envious at his purchase and he offered to take my picture in front of it for me to share with him. He even offered to let him come to the office and take it for a drive.

After it was all said and done, I praised the ding dong on his new car and his ego couldn't help itself. 

He said, "If you work hard, set goals, and put in long hours, I can get an even better one next year!"

OBVIOUSLY, I was an full blown idiot. Why?

This photo was taken in July of 2016, and I allowed his chauvinistic, misogynistic behaviour, to gaslight me until I walked out the door never to return; nor look back and be treated as such ever again.

That life changing day for this cat was September 11th, 2021.

I may be smiling in this photo, but for years I would wake up in the night and suffer panic attacks.
Again, obviously, I WAS an idiot.
Past tense!
TAKEN: JULY 2016

COTTAGE RAMP UP!

Only yours truly could be lucky enough to take their first summer vacation since 2012 and be blessed with rain all but the first day thus far. 

The crappy part is that the single sunny Saturday wasn't even taken as a day of rest, instead it was spent repairing and reinstalling the ramp attached to our floating dock system.

Notice the first step onto the ramp is missing?
TAKEN: AUGUST 1st, 2020

I think any repairs or renovations bring out the true personality of you and your life partner, which is probably why smart peeps pay someone to complete their chores to simply avoid the aggravation; automatically slotting us into the “sucker for punishment” construction category.

I’ve joked here numerous times that I married Canada’s Worst Handyman, which is exactly that, me teasing. If I was on the outside looking in, I would see that neither of us are lazy, nor less committed to accomplishing what we set our sites on.  We just approach any project we do in very different fashion. 

I like to have a firm plan from the start and my husband likes to jump in without even understanding if he has the right tools and material to finish.

I hate to be interrupted when I am in a task-oriented mode and he absolutely loves an extra five trips to the hardware store while the work is in process. Drives me bat shit crazy!

 

So, over the years I have learned that when we have a plan, there needs to be at least a three Saturday buffer to ensure we start without having to stop. To some it might read like micromanagement on my part, but I consider it as a solid investment in both efficiency and productivity... and the solemn promise from this cat not to argue whilst the task's being completed.

As you can see from the photo I am sharing, last Saturday has the top step from the deck onto the ramp missing. We never had a step there before, the ramp was always attached higher up. But by dropping the ramp and anchoring it differently, the hope is the ice won’t pummel it into submission again next winter.

Who wants to bet me that I don’t get a step installed this summer unless I do it myself?

Hey, I'm not trying to be a bitch here. 

I just have decades of historical data to prove I know the outcome of said bet hands down!

#yagottaslaughaboutit

FOR THE RECORD

My motto in life?
Kill the assholes with kindness!
TAKEN: April 1978

I don’t care who you are, when your feelings have been deeply hurt, there is nothing more exasperating than being told you’re overreacting.

As a matter a fact,  I am a firm believer that the only reason they play that super stupid lame card, is because on the surface they want the brutally honest conversation to stop. Simply because they've realized, deep inside, what they did to you was wrong and you are speaking an absolute truth.

Have I ever mentioned the fact that I’m often teased in passing that my cheerfulness is silly, or labelled as something it isn't?

Part of me thinks those being aggressively passive and judgmental about my very fashionable rose coloured glasses are that way because they've never met anyone like me; which is someone that would rather instill confidence over conflict.

I am honest when I write that I wake every day in hopes of making someone else’s day better. I think that may have  something to do with my being bullied as a child, in that I learned very early that my extroversion categorically opened my mind and spirit to a commitment to never stop setting goals nor letting others tell you that you didn't have great worth.

As a result, I have always worked to give my best. Which may read an an oxymoron seeing as over the years I've written here that the best I could do was barely crawl out of bed...Yet even then, I always did it and smiled.

As I process all of this, my biggest discovery this post is that once you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change. Which is the realization I had yesterday, and is naturally attached to what feels to be a bit like a broken heart.

Glass half full? It isn’t the first time my ticker has been less than stellar, and it most certainly won’t be the last. As a matter a fact, a wise and amazing friend sent me a text message this afternoon that read… ”Remember you are worthy of all the great & amazing things in life.”

She continued with, "these things and people far surpass the other people & events around you that can create inconvenience & negativity.”

To which I replied: "Agreed... The loss is theirs & bigger than they can ever imagine!”

Once again, I have my big girl panties pulled up and I am moving onward & upward.

Thanks again for reading.

MY DARK REALITY

My 7am walk in the rain with the streetlights on.
TAKEN: SEPTEMBER 25th, 2018

So, it's official. I won't be heading into the sunshine at the fall back time change, as those strict savings were allocated toward lowering the purchase price of a new vehicle. Though I could have juggled and managed both financially, I'm keeping a stiff upper lip (whilst pouting profusely) by refusing to travel on previously earmarked savings or credit.

As a possible pick me up, I will report that I've decided only to listen to Bob Marley that week on the custom Bose sound system my new ride's equipped with, which could be deemed as a small concession, as the 'Port Carling-mobile' was a must have purchase.

'Must have’ ...an interesting approach to an item, isn't it?

Matter a fact, I was just talking to a couple of guys on my team last week about certain personality types and their somewhat incessant need for instant gratification of material purchases. That casual dialogue, led to a neat conversation about the understanding of want vs. need in the lifestyle spending department: In that I wanted to go to Jamaica in November, yet I was in need of another vehicle. 

Here's the skinny. When I walked to carpool this morning in the rain, the street lights were on, warning me that hell is on the horizon for me.  Hell may be a strong visual to inflict here but you can’t understand an others personal struggle with a lack of natural light until you’ve experienced its direct effect. Never the less, if I want to cross the pond for the first time for my next birthday, concessions had to be made and I had to come to grips with the dark reality that there will be very little fall sunlight. 

Let’s face it... I’m no spring chicken. For decades, money’s been squirreled away for that rainy day that'll most likely resemble this morning. In a perfect scenario, my attitude will be as positive as ever.

I'll be the life of the party, rocking out to AC-DC’s Shook Me All Night Long, gripping my walker, nursing a recently healed broken hip from break-dancing; in one very kick-ass mature lifestyle community.** 

Glass half full? 

It will be paid for... and I'll be revered by all, for still truly remembering the 1980's.

**: This kick-ass community may or may not be located in Jamaica!

WHO'S A RICH GIRL?

On a very last minute whim I went to the local casino last Friday night.

For close to a year, a coworker'd been randomly inviting me to join her so I finally decided to tag along. Not to gamble,  rather to be entertained in the auditorium, the way I have always envisioned the intent; watching one of my favourite bands perform... Styx.

A crazy fun road trip to get there, we pulled in and the valet parked her very sexy SUV. Once inside the lobby, I felt a sudden gush of seasonal sensory overload. So much so, that my brain didn't know what to do. I wasn't sure if I should focus on the festive decorative tribute to Christmas in November,  or the very large volume of varying patrons buzzing about the lobby taking pictures of the tribute to Christmas in November.

My angst was immediately minimized when she proceeded to swiftly check into her complimented suite, where we enjoyed a lovely glass of red wine (or two) then matter-a-factly headed into the casino before the show.

It was quite crowded but nowhere near as loud as I’d remembered. As my french buddy 'Mauve' pulled up a specific machine and began ‘entertaining’ herself, I watched in awe. Quickly on a roll, at points she was up more than the value of a month of my wages.

Hanging low in the tall grass, I carefully sipped a glass of wine, ultimately feeling bad for watching the clock and interrupting her to let her know it was time to proceed to the show. After all, I suspect everything for her was free with their intent being she keeps her butt in a leather chair as long as possible; NOT the folding kind located in the auditorium.

We made it to the show and Styx was fantastic. When it finished we worked our way back toward the great indoors. We stopped and purchased some swag and she went to great lengths to make sure we had our picture taken to commemorate our crazy fun experience. Wandering back into the casino, I asked that she show me the premise on how she chooses a specific machine and how she determines how much to ultimately spend.

Not wanting to be a total stick in the mud, after her sharing her insight, I wandered a couple of rows away to try and hit my groove.

Ready to be completely entertained, I selected my poison carefully. I inserted my twenty dollar bill into the super slick suction pit that I swore was labelled... 'That puppy ain't never coming back.'

After what felt like an nanosecond, I cashed out my dime slot chit before I had lost my entire investment. I couldn't help but smile as I glanced at the focal aspect of my picture showing my take and announcing...

'She's a Rich Girl.'

Here's the skinny.

Though I enthusiastically donated a massive $19.64 toward my evenings entertainment, a couple of days later I realized a much more powerful thought about my out lay of cash, which is.... Your most cherished and valued wealth is  what you invest in great friends. 

Not only a great friend, this cat's a Super Hero.

Seriously... She's a Super Hero and she has a business card to prove it.

Trust me. I've seen it. Twice!

THE ART OF PATIENCE

Well, my almost year long quest for a clean bill of health had me starting my work day in my home office this morning. Closing in on the end of what feels has been a bit of a mini marathon, I am glad to share that I'm feeling fan-tab-u-lus!

Because I had an appointment, I didn’t have to meet the carpool this morn. Yet, as I do every morning, I woke up on schedule to a steaming pot of fresh perked coffee and let the pups out to do what we all of do when we wake up in the morning.

Still dark outside, I found it odd that I had to almost coerce Dot back into the house with treats. As soon as the sun rose she wanted back out, so just before 8am I let her go. At her age, there’s no need to tie her as she always stays within earshot; or so I thought.

Working away I lost track of time. As my tummy rumbled for sustenance, I realized I hadn’t heard a peep from Dot. Not coming when called, I ventured into the back gully, all gussied up in the ugliest bathrobe & drop dead bedhead imaginable. What I found was my pup no longer able to stand. She'd clearly remained on high alert for her arch red nemesis for more than 3 hours, which easily displays the art of patience. 

Spottie Dottie on high alert for Big Red!
TAKEN: OCTOBER 11th, 2017

I have been thinking a lot about patience lately. Specifically certain people around me, and their lack thereof it. Is it a symptom of midlife and old age? Because mine seems to be increasing, opposite of my husband whose is steadfastly plummeting. Five/six years ago I use to tune it out. A couple of years ago I use to point it out. Now a days I just tend to roll my eyes, laugh about it, and carry on.

The funny thing is the topic of patience comes up once in a while in our carpool chit chat sessions and the Sweeny-Meister always wonders why I don’t let it affect me. I usually have a response that gets a true belly laugh out of her but when the laughter ceases, my final summation is always the same: why would I bother?

I truly believe that I am at the point in my life where I pick my battles and the truth of the matter is I simply no longer have any desire to fight. Though strong in spirit and a full blown extrovert, I’d rather be alone than be around unnecessary drama.

Honestly, if I look deep, I think of patience as that trigger that proves I'll never stop hoping. I truly do have such hope. So much like Dottie, I'm unwilling to give up. Even though, more often than not, my heart knows the truth.

... That I'm simply nothing but an absolute idiot. A fiercely patient, absolute idiot.

Thanks for reading.