A long week

Its Saturday, 1:21pm. I'm in the same place I am every Saturday. Work. I'm done in 4 hours and 39 minutes. This week will be done. Over. Finito.

I thought last week was a long week. I planned a two day event for last Friday and Saturday and I really thought the days leading up to it would be long. Surprisingly, this week was longer. I don't know if its the "letdown effect" after such a busy, intense week or what. I was depressed this week. I couldn't shake my frustration, my bitter mood. I would wake up crabby, spend my day fuming, go to bed and lie awake angry.

But why? Its weird that when I'm angry or upset, I am mad at myself for being angry and upset. Why am I complaining about my job? At least I have one in these times. Its not a bad job either. My "office" overlooks a golf course, I am surrounded by beautiful flowers, I get free lunches, a clothing allowance, and I do work with some great people. So with all these blessings why the depression and frustration?

Its for the same reason that we get upset, marriages break up, people fall apart. Money. Here at my job, I am considered a department head, ok, co-department head. I oversee 3 areas and just finished planning a fundraiser that is outside my job description. I raised over $20,000 for this group. A for-profit, non charity. Yet, I (and my co) make the least of any of us. By over $10,000. By over $70,000 than my boss. I shouldn't know that, but I do. And it upsets me every day.

It upsets me because I feel that I am a team player. Maybe this blog makes me a non-team player. I have worked long hours, helped out in other areas (I served tables one day! I am waaay to klutzy to be a server). I worked months where others were off. Granted, I don't make the big time decisions. I buy clothes, sell memberships and do my best to make our members happy.

But I am so sick of living paycheck to paycheck. I have no savings, no backup fund. If I take a trip I either save all year for it, or have people give me money for Christmas and my birthday. If my grandfather passes away (he's in excellent health, but he's 94) I have no money to get home. I have a credit card, but I have to go into debt to go home. New shoes are a luxury to me. A new book is, some months, a luxury.

I'm not asking for much. I don't need a boat or an SUV. I don't want to buy designer clothing. I don't need a flat screen TV or a new laptop. I just want to live without worry. I want to be able to give my friend Katie a nice wedding present in August. I want to start a house fund for Josh and I.

Granted, I have credit card debt that is my own fault. I have a car loan and student loans to pay off. These are not the responsibility of my employer. But, dang it, when is it my turn to have a few nice things? When do I get paid for what I bring to my place of employment. I keep telling myself that I am young and I have time. But I am impatient.

If you value what I do, and by extension, value me...could you put a higher monetary value on it?

I'm not very good at this

Blogging that is. How long has it been since my last post? Weeks at least. But I only came up with one new reason that I am becoming my mother: I am now all about sunscreen. I used to try to be as tan as possible, believing it made me more attractive. I have since realized (ok...I have since found my first wrinkle) that I really would not like to look old before I have to. I'm knocking on the door of 30 and I will proudly wear my brand new big floppy hat. Even if Josh laughs at me.

I was a non-blogger for a while because I was super busy at work. I'll spare you the details, but I planned a 2 day event and the past two weeks I was swamped with last minute details, registration, and anal-retentiveness. I didn't have time at work to even check my personal email, let alone Facebook or Runners World. I would get home at night and just be on the couch with Josh.

I also (pun intended) got sucked into the Twilight series. I fought the hype as long as possible, but my "little sister" Brittany was reading it and I figured if it was good enough for a 10 year old, it was good enough for me. Long story short, I'm starting book 3, Eclipse, tonight. I will not, however, become a "Twilighter" or "Meyer-ite" or whatever they call themselves. I reserve my nickname worthy fandom for So You Think You Can Dance.

Which brings me to: Evan is still in! And his brother Ryan...has MADE IT TO VEGAS again, for the fall season. It is really sad that its the first day of summer and I'm happily planning my fall television viewing schedule.

Well, if any post was random, it was this one. But I just wanted to write. Now I need to read. Bella and Edward and Jacob are calling...

I am getting old

"I used to tease my mother about this until I realized it is hereditary" Jen Lancaster in Such A Pretty Fat

I am getting old. So old. Today's "I am old" moment came when I celebrating my impulse buy of a value pack of toothbrushes at Target yesterday. "What amazing foresight I have" I praised myself while brushing. At that exact moment, my lameness was staring me in the face, pink Oral B and all.

When did I go from celebrating staying up until 3am after drinking 8 vodka cranberries to celebrating a Friday night Target run?!?! I read the above quote from Jen Lancaster last night and it really resonated with me. I decided to make a list of how I am turing into my mother (and also father).

1. I cannot make a left turn while driving until there are no cars coming from either direction for at least a mile. Granted, I was in an accident in late April where a left turner pulled out in front of me, but I was like this before.

2. I now say to every child I see, "You have grown so much! How old are you now?" I used to HATE when my mom did this. I was so embarrassed at her inability to remember the ages of every student in the Glenville-Emmons school district. C'mon, Mom, there's only 500 kids in grades K-12! Now, they all grow up too fast and dress like whores (another topic for another day).

3. All I drink is soda in the Coke family. While Mom is a "Classic" drinker, I am a "Diet". This actually happened when I was 12. I should have seen the rest coming.

4. I buy toilet paper every week. Whether we need it or not. I refuse to run out. If there is a catastrophic disaster...my butt will be clean.

5. I can't handle the music the kids listen to these days. (But I do have a CD player in my car that I actually use)

Hmmm...maybe thats it for now. But at 28, it may be 5 too many.

Things my mother does I have thus far avoided:

1. Mixing all my liquid soaps together so I can use every. last. drop. I don't like mixing brands or scents. I will waste the soap.

2. Buying pepper so often I have 5 canisters of it in my cupboard. This is an inside joke (and not an exaggeration) from the time I was home and organized her cupboards. I only 2 in my cupboard.

3. Taking baths. I do take ice baths after long runs. They are 12-15 minutes long. Not 75-85. In a single bathroom home, this can present problems.

That's it for now. I'm sure I'll think of more and update this throughout the day.

Two posts in one night!!!

I went from having nothing to say to deciding that my unhealthy obsession with So You Think You Can Dance merited a few more paragraphs. I had even turned the computer off!

In less than 16 minutes I will find out if Evan has made it on. He was one of my favorites from last year when he auditioned, but didn't make it on. He dances like Gene Kelly or Fred Astaire. Graceful, happy, makes your heart go SQUEEE! My fandom rests on this decision. (Ok, it really doesn't...but I'm sort of dramatic when it comes to my reality TV watching. Tyra dramatic. Not Speidi dramatic).

I mentioned in my first post that I YouTube the videos the next morning. I neglected to mention that I then make my part time staff of college aged gentleman watch them with me. And force them to enjoy and then banter with me about the merits of each dance. Vincent Delpino is in Spain right now and I'm sure he is wishing he could come back next week so he doesn't miss the start of the actual competition. On second thought...I really hope he comes back. He probably warned the new girl, Julie, that SYTYCD loyalty is a condition of employment. As far as I know, non-dance fans are not a protected class in the United States. But you really can't ask that in a job interview. How are they supposed to take me seriously?

Me "What are your favorite reality shows?"

Potential hire, "The Hills, Trainwreck, I mean, Daisy of Love, anything with a Baldwin brother grasping at the last straw of fame"

Me, "I think your interpersonal skills could use some work. I can't have my part time employees discussing people with less talent than me and that are somehow way more famous than me with the club members"

Remember...I really don't want to be famous for causing a scandal . Especially a scandal based on work place harassment stemming from television preferences.

AAAHHHGGG!!!

Its the moment of truth!!! Evan or his brother?!?! How in the name of Mary Murphy did it come to this?!?!?! Why not both?!?!? If I wasn't so busy typing my inner monolouge I'd be starting n onion letter to Nigel Lythgoe! They could be in a traveling production of Xanadu and I'd buy front row tickets. It would almost be as exciting as when I saw future American Idol contestant Constantine Maroulis in the traveling production of Rent.

Here it comes....

ITS EVAN!!!!!! I'm so happy...yet so sad. Can someone break their leg? Is Ryan the first runner up? If for some reason another contestant cannot fulfill his duties as the Top Ten guys does Ryan step in???

I can hope.

Does a blog count if you haven't told anyone?

I started this blog on Monday (or was it Tuesday?). I haven't told anyone yet. Its that fear thing again. I'm afraid to find out that I'm not that interesting or that no one really cares that I won a radio contest (true story) yesterday or that I made BoyToy save me from a pack of geese today (that story may or may not contain some hyperbole...but there were a lot of geese and I was trapped in my car).

What to write about today...I woke up, I went to spinning, I went to work (for 11.5 hours), I came home and ate soup. Now I am watching So You Think You Can Dance. Quite possibly my all time favorite show. I even YouTube the dances the next day.

See? Nothing that important, but I wanted to keep going, to keep writing. Try to get to those moments when maybe I say something that will resonate with my friends. Or maybe simply make them smile. They would LOVE the geese story. Though it would require me admitting my irrational fear of geese. I'm even more afraid of pigeons. And squirrels.

In the beginning

So I'm finally starting a blog. I've been thinking about it for a while now. Mainly as a therapy too. I could talk about my day, my life, my successes and my failures. I lay in bed at night and dream of writing. I want to tell my story to people. What holds me back?

Fear, mainly. The fear that someone will tell me what I all ready (already?) know. That I'm nothing special. Just a girl. The girl you see in the grocery store. The girl you see at the gym. Nothing really makes you pay attention. Except for when she runs into the display of cantaloupe or trips on the treadmill. She never learned to do makeup or hair or anything glamourous. She struggled with bulimia, she became a marathon runner, she destroyed relationships, she made some awesome friends, she was happy, she was sad, she was angry, and she was disappointed. See? Nothing special.

And what to write about? I have friends who blog about running and their marathon training. But that would require me to know my split times, do speedwork, or wear a watch. I could write about how one finds oneself a bulimic when she was only trying to lose some weight. But I am so much more than that - and thankfully, my life is much more than that. I could write about my job, the times I love it and the times I hate it. Anyone could write about that.

So I decided simply to start. To write SOMETHING. It will be random. Some days running will be discussed. Some days I'll talk about work. I'll keep a list of "things I ran into and how many bruises it gave me". I'll also try to write about the moments where an inner monolouge would have been nice. I'll try not to make it too long. I'll try to make you laugh.

People really don't need to read this, its mainly just for me to dream about writing and share some things I can't say out loud. If you are reading, thank you. Please keep all grammar comments to yourself. (Someday I will learn the difference between all ready and already. I didn't go to college for 6 years for nothing!)

Here goes nothing...