Tag Archives: working

Friday Noms

Well, just one nom actually, from the lovely Laura, but there might be more noms… how would I know, since WordPress has decided I shouldn’t have posts while I sleep. Meh, say the happiness engineers, why should we bother putting posts in her feed between 10pm and 6am? She’s not going to read them while she’s in dreamland, lol! Funny guys (guys being a gender inclusive term in this case). 🙄

Anyhoodle. Thank you, Laura. I appreciate the one nom. I was going to say one measly nom, but that makes me sound ungrateful plus also might get the whole vax debate started up, though why there should be a debate GOD ONLY KNOWS. What a bunch of idiots, amirite? If you don’t want to vax, move to Antarctica. Problem solved. ❄️

I’m supposed to tell all y’all 7 things about me now, as if there are even 7 things left you don’t know (well, there are, but I can’t post them), so I’ll just jabber on a bit and see where it goes. Beware of rambling. 😛

1. I’ve been thinking this week that I don’t have enough time and energy to finish my novel now that I have actual side work that pays. I don’t have hours of free time at night and on weekends to write the way I used to. And I’m not giving up paying work. 💰

2. I have written novels, so it’s not a matter of proving to myself or anyone else that I’m capable of doing it. They’re for sale and have been for years. They don’t sell though, since I’m a nobody with no marketing resources. 🎻

(Please don’t give me marketing advice in comments. I’ve read tons of it, and it’s all way too time intensive for me with minimal payoff. I already have paying work I am not willing to take time away from.)

3. The fact that my novels (and books of short stories and poetry) molder on Amazon year after year, bringing in only a measly dollar or two here or there, doesn’t give me much hope for the success of the next one. Sure, I still enjoy the process of writing because I’m a writer, and I’ll always write when there’s nothing else going on, but then when there’s no money or feedback? Sadness. 😢

4. If I can’t make money from writing, the next best thing is to get people to read my stuff. And I have that right here! Thanks to this fabulous community of supportive WP peeps (along with a few otters), my little blog poems and short stories get read all the time now, which is a great feeling. ❤️

5. I’m tired of feeling stressed every week that I didn’t get “enough” done when I work 7 days a week now, including most nights after my real job when I get home. This doesn’t include chores, shopping, etc. Yes, mostly everyone else does all this too, but there’s no need for me to feel like a failure because I didn’t work on my novel. I can simply take it off the list. ✅

6. Ironically, since the time change, I’ve gotten more sleep… and it’s nice. I don’t feel physically better at all, but it’s so great not to be exhausted and achy. So, perhaps that’s what’s prompted this line of thinking. I just don’t want to feel obligated to write for two hours after working after work. Wtf? That’s nuts. And I don’t want to get up at 4:30am and write. Wtfff??? Who does that?? (Well, I did, many years ago.) 😴

7. What I really should do, if I had any sense (lol) is to prioritize exercise, so I could live long enough to finish all my unfinished writings after I have more time once I retire in 12ish years. Danger, danger… adding more things to list! Assuming, that is, I make it to retirement without getting hit by a truck, drowning in a tsunami, or being bitten by someone’s pet cobra that escapes and comes boinging up in my toilet bowl.

Could happen. 🐍

K. That’s 7, arbitrarily broken into paragraphs and numbered. No tags. You’re all awesome and should jabber on about yourselves too. Not you, Becky. 😀

Opposites Attract: Challenges 6 & 7

Generally, I find keeping a list (or multiple lists) to be the most efficacious method of accomplishing my goals. I stay focused on the high-priority items near the top, and I experience a nice feeling of satisfaction when an item gets deleted.

If I grocery shop without a list, I end up being very inefficient, buying things I already have and forgetting stuff I need. I’ll usually have to make a second trip a few days later instead of the next week. Same goes for weekend chores and even longer-term things I want to get done. It’s unproductive for me to “wing it.”

However, I feel very discouraged right now. Due to the time change, I ended up taking a nap when I returned from Los Angeles this afternoon, and now my weekend plans are in disarray. Not only didn’t I write as much as I planned to, but I haven’t finished the work I promised someone, nor have I vacuumed! Obviously, I’m going to do the latter two things, but my nerves are a bit frayed thinking of all the uncrossed-out items on my list.

I like to think of myself as a person with a will of steel who does whatever I decide I’m going to do. But… naps happen. 😴

Song Lyric Sunday: Occupation

The song I’m sharing for Jim’s challenge this week is “The Night Chicago Died” by Paper Lace. Two jobs are referenced: cops and gangsters, so take your pick. I’m on the cops’ side.

The songwriters, Peter Callander and Mitch Murray, were/are British, and wrote the lyrics in 1974 as a fictional shootout, but it got a bunch of Chicagoan panties in a wad, notably Mayor Daley’s, who believed lyrics must be historically accurate apparently. I wonder how he felt about The Unicorn Song? 😂

My daddy was a cop on the east side of Chicago
Back in the U.S.A. back in the bad old days

In the heat of a summer night
In the land of the dollar bill
When the town of Chicago died
And they talk about it still
When a man named Al Capone
Tried to make that town his own
And he called his gang to war
With the forces of the law

I heard my mama cry
I heard her pray the night Chicago died
Brother what a night it really was
Brother what a fight it really was
Glory be!
I heard my mama cry
I heard her pray the night Chicago died
Brother what a night the people saw
Brother what a fight the people saw
Yes indeed!

And the sound of the battle rang
Through the streets of the old east side
‘Til the last of the hoodlum gang
Had surrendered up or died
There was shouting in the street
And the sound of running feet
And I asked someone who said
“‘Bout a hundred cops are dead!”

I heard my mama cry
I heard her pray the night Chicago died
Brother what a night it really was
Brother what a fight it really was
Glory be!
I heard my mama cry
I heard her pray the night Chicago died
Brother what a night the people saw
Brother what a fight the people saw
Yes indeed!

And ther was no sound at all
But the clock upon the wall
Then the door burst open wide
And my daddy stepped inside
And he kissed my mama’s face
And he brushed her tears away

The night Chicago died
Na-na na, na-na-na, na-na-na-na-na
The night Chicago died
Brother what a night the people saw
Brother what a fight the people saw
Yes indeed!

The night Chicago died
Na-na na, na-na-na, na-na-na-na-na
The night Chicago died
Brother what a night it really was
Brother what a fight it really was
Glory be!

The night Chicago died
Na-na na, na-na-na, na-na-na-na-na
The night Chicago died
Brother what a night the people saw
Brother what a fight the people saw
Yes indeed!

https://youtu.be/Gz0Q0uRWqps

Moody Blues & Browns

Color is super important to me (I’ve written about it a few times). When I first began working full-time “9-5” back in Chicago and had to quickly assemble an office-friendly wardrobe, I bought basic mix-match items in blues and browns. I didn’t realize that black was more of a basic until it was too late ~ but I was happy with my colors. They were beachy in winter. Sand and ocean. Rock and sky.

That’s the Pacific Ocean, near where I live now in SoCal; at that time around 1980 I lived near Lake Michigan. But it’s not “just a lake” ~ it’s huge, with miles of beach and waves.

Gradually, I added in more variety to my wardrobe: stripes, black and white, other shades of blue, purple. When I moved to Southern California in 1983, I began wearing a lot of bright colors, lime green especially. Well, it was the 1980s. Then came pink! Omgosh, I fell in love with pink!

Later, I went through a sunflower phase. I started a mad quest to fill my home with as many things as I could that had a sunflower motif. Dishtowels, crewel pictures, and tee shirts for everyone! This is my mommy and me, in sunflower yellow! My girls are in bright, happy colors too. The pic is from around 1996. 😍❤️⭐️

In 2001, I went back to office work full-time, so the lime green leggings had to go unfortunately. I also had lime green boots that I did wear for a while, but a few years ago I reluctantly parted with them too. I do have a lot of black basics now, but I spice them up with splashes of pink or turquoise in scarves and/or sweaters. My wardrobe contains every color for my every mood.

Mostly I like to put different solid colors together in various combos, so I try to stay away from patterns and prints, but I do have some. I’m trying to phase them out though. Unless I find a super fantastic sale or something with a kitty on it. 🐱

So, that’s my colorful story about color. I thought I could somehow work in the other prompt words, but nope. Moving on…

Hope ☔️ [flash 165]

Hope had planned for today so carefully, yet everything felt off-kilter. First, the rain had required that she hire a ride to the station, placing a dent in her meager stash of funds. But she couldn’t arrive at her new employer’s house looking like a wet puppy.

Second, as she had waited for the taxi under the portico, Mikey came out to say goodbye. She’d hoped to avoid him and any unnecessary sentiment, but he went on for a several minutes with another apology, asking her to please stay. She’d stared ahead stoically as the rain poured down, though her heart felt torn, and thank goodness the taxi pulled up.

Third, when she reread the leaflet in the taxi, the position didn’t sound as appealing as it had last month when she’d applied for the job. But it was done. No going back.

The train approached now, sounding its lonely tune, and Hope willed herself to quit feeling petrified and begin her new life.

~*~

Tell The Story Photo Challenge from Crushed Caramel

V4L Challenge 15

New Dating Profile

Honesty is probably the most important trait to me. I’m looking for a lasting relationship, not a fling, so I care about building a trusting friendship with a kind man based upon shared interests, mutual compatibility, and fun. I love animals, nature, cooking, and comedy. Do not respond if all you care about are pics. I prefer to just meet in person and take it from there! – “KittyCupcake”

Cupid reread the profile his mother had sent to him. It was against company policy to respond to personal ads because Love, Inc.’s motto was that love should happen at first sight, when one of the arrows hit a target on the curated list that the software algorithm had provided. But fat lot of good that had done him! He had fallen hard for sweet Chantal and messed up with his workaholism and by forgetting her nut allergy. Now, she’d dumped him.

He was so sad about the loss of Chantal. He’d texted her a couple more times asking how it was going and hoping they could stay in touch, but she hadn’t replied. She was probably having so much fun with Mr. Right that she couldn’t be bothered even saying hello. He sighed. His email box was piling up with work, but he didn’t feel motivated.

Quickly, he dashed off a response to the ad, making up a fake name, and asking to meet tonight at 6pm for a drink. Then he began tackling the afternoon’s pile of office work.

Cupid left the office uncharacteristically early at 5:30pm to meet KittyCupcake. He hoped she’d recognize him from the brief physical description he’d sent. He had no idea what she looked like, and it would be interesting to discover which woman at the bar she turned out to be. If things went well, maybe the drink could turn into dinner.

“Cupid? What are you doing here?”

He turned around to find Chantal staring at him. What was she doing here?

V4L Challenge 11 (ranty)

Why Valentine’s Day Sucks!

First, if you’re wondering (and of course you are) where challenges 9 and 10 are, no worries! You did not miss an exciting installment of Cupid + Chantal. I simply skipped those challenges due to math: the pesky 24 hours per day adding up to 24 yet again. Dammit.

Second, I actually like Valentine’s Day and think it’s a lot of fun to celebrate love cuz gawd knows we spend way too much time focusing on stuff we dislike, amirite? The day doesn’t have to be sad if you don’t have a romantic sweetie ~ it can be about other loves. Children, friends, pets. You can even buy a treat for yourself, or for me. 😍

However! I totally get why people hate Valentine’s Day. It’s stressful to be forced to demonstrate your feelings on demand ~ some people just don’t respond on cue, and I respect that. They don’t want to spend money on schmaltzy cards or buy pink teddy bears, jewelry, flowers, candy, etc. because it’s the fourteenth day of February. Whyyyyy? How is that meaningful? Unless it’s the anniversary of that particular couple’s first date or other special occasion, I can see people (especially men) feeling resentful of the expectation to produce tangible evidence of their relationship commitment on this random date.

What’s even more annoying is that women will go along with the above paragraph and then still be upset if the man ignores Valentine’s Day as they had previously agreed to do. She had probably agreed mostly to make him happy, but then when the day arrived she thought well he could have at least gotten me a silly card and a cupcake. That wouldn’t have taken so much time or cost very much. Then he’s mad that she’s upset. True story. 💔

I personally don’t like the pressure to make a huge fancy deal out of Valentine’s Day cuz that’s a lot of work, and who needs more work? I resent the idea that (when I did have someone), I was supposed to buy a gorgeous new outfit and look spectacular on Valentine’s Day, or else I’d disappoint my guy. Naturally he was supposed to make reservations somewhere nice, or else we’d have to plan to cook something special together. So much work! Especially on a weeknight. Ughhh.

But it seems like everything has to be extreme these days, all or nothing, love or hate. Why can’t we (if we have a romantic partner), celebrate Valentine’s Day in a fun, low key way? Do something special but not annoying or expensive? Maybe plan it for the weekend afterward if February 14th is a work night. If we don’t have a partner, there’s no reason to hate the day when we can treat a relative or friend to a little gift, or even ourselves. Gifts can be of time too.

Sure, it would be ideal to express our love every day of the year, to buy a gift exactly when we felt the genuine urge, not when ads told us to, or to give the special people in our lives extra time and attention at any random time just because. We certainly do not need a pink and red hearts day mostly concocted by greeting card companies to nudge us, right? But let’s get real. People who say that stuff mostly aren’t that loving. They’re cranky curmudgeons who don’t randomly make pretty, glittery cards for people or bake pink frosted cakes or jump up and say hey I’m really glad you’re in my life!

So pffft on them and their hatey poopery. They bag on Valentine’s Day because they like to be cynical about all things all the time. They don’t want to shop or create something handmade or give you extra time. They feel awkward about expressing positive, good feelings. Mostly I’m talking about the men I’ve met, since I’m more forgiving of women who are sad on Valentine’s Day because men are so hatey about it. But don’t be sad! We can buy our own candy now.

Sorry… but I guess I just don’t think that Valentine’s Day sucks. There are so many ways to celebrate love. 💖❤️💗

V4L Challenge 5

A Day in the Life of Cupid

When we last left our intrepid hero, he’d been comforting his girlfriend at the hospital on Valentine’s night after buying her drugstore candy with nuts in it to which she was allergic. But now it’s back to work for Cupid. He’s Project Manager at Love, Inc. and his days are hectic. Today is no exception.

Cupid arrived at his office early at 8am, hoping to get a bunch of work done before the crew came in. He’d bought an egg and cheese muffin and a large coffee to fuel himself up for the tasks ahead.

First, he remembered to text his girlfriend and ask her how she was feeling after the candy ordeal last night. She didn’t respond right away, but that was probably because she was busy at work too. They’d only had two dates so far, plus the funny hospital mishap, but Cupid had a good feeling about their potential. Chantal was a really sweet, understanding person.

Just as Cupid started to plow through his pile of unread emails, the head arrower stopped by his desk.

“Sorry to bother you, boss,” the HA said. “But I thought you should know that the new batch of arrows are at least twenty percent defective. The rest of the crew is experiencing the same.”

“Darn it!” Cupid said. “I recommended we stay with Universal Arrow, but was overruled because they wanted to cut costs.”

The HA nodded. “These are definitely inferior.”

“Thanks for letting me know. I’ll make a report.” Great, thought Cupid. Another task for the to-do list. But this one was high priority.

Cupid shot off a report about the defective arrows to his Operations Director and then returned to his other tasks. But he was soon interrupted again.

“Excuse me,” one of the new arrowers said. “But I ran into a problem on Valentine’s Day. My target was hit again an hour later because she hadn’t disappeared from the list. The same thing happened three more times with different targets as I discovered just now when I compared notes with a coworker.”

Cupid’s naturally calm and cheerful demeanor faded into anger. He realized immediately this was due to yet another boneheaded cost-cutting measure some of the Directors had insisted upon. His Director was a good guy, but had voted in favor of the measures regardless in hopes of getting concessions from the other Directors in return. “Politics,” he had said to Cupid at the time.

Now Cupid said to the arrower, “I’m sorry that happened. It’s the new software. We’ll alert them to the problem and hopefully it can be a simple fix.”

“Thanks,” she said. “I’ll tell the others. It’s really sad when we set up a promising situation and it all falls apart because of some technical glitch.”

Cupid agreed with her. He called Hearts Aflame, the new software company, and put in a help ticket with Quality Control. They promised to give his issue their fullest attention just as soon as his number came up in the queue. It was 37.

Next, he attended a luncheon seminar slash sexual harassment program that all Project Managers were required to attend quarterly. It lasted two hours and they received free chicken pesto sandwiches, sodas, and handbooks on how not to be jerks, and then they watched a movie on how to deal with any jerks on their crews. Now it was 3pm and Cupid still had at least a full day’s work left.

At 7 he decided enough was enough and went to the gym. He felt like skipping it, going home, and flopping on the sofa, but thinking about his hot new girlfriend motivated him to go. He did a quick workout, showered, and headed back to his pad. It was after 9 and he was wiped out. As he nuked a frozen burrito, his phone dinged with a new text. Chantal!

Hi, sorry to do this over text, but I’ve met someone else. Thought you should know. It just happened all of a sudden like a bolt out of the sky. Take care. C

💔💔💔💔💔

Job Search [flash 194]

A Guy Called Bloke tagged me to write about this charming picture.

After filling out her fifth application of the day, Nora looked up to see a familiar face. “Hey, Ben. I thought you were at Zinco.”

Ben shook his head. “Nope. We all got laid off last week. They eliminated our unit and now the Ones do the purchasing as well as customer support.”

“That’s all I hear,” Nora said. “Companies only want Ones because they can focus on the screen exclusively.”

“Plus they no longer have a sense of smell to distract them either. They subsist on protein shakes.” Ben shook his head. “I was considering a retrofit, but I really like to eat, especially pizza.”

Nora gasped. “I wouldn’t consider it! That’s disgusting. Changing yourself like that. You wouldn’t be you.”

“Yeah. But I’m worried about money. At least you have a husband.”

Nora went home that night, feeling sad for her old friend. But Ben was right: she had a husband and so wasn’t nearly as desperate to find a job.

“Hi honey,” she called out. “Why are all the lights off?”

“I have a surprise for you, Nora,” her husband said. “I’m going to be able to get that promotion now.”

~*~

Okay, now it’s my turn to tag peeps to write about a picture. I tag:

Teleporting Weena

Laundry and Dishes

Sadje

Here is your picture. Happy writing!

Shards [flash 99]

“A job’s a job,” Angie muttered as she began stuffing garbage bags with magazines and candy wrappers, soda cans and wadded up napkins. At least she had on heavy duty gloves; these hoarder houses were the worst. In the corner of the family room were smashed flowerpots and picture frames as if the owner had flung them there out of desperation or frustration. Mindful of the shards, Angie picked one up and under the cracked glass saw a woman not much different from herself with two little boys. This was once a family. This was once a whole life.

~*~

Prompt from the Carrot Ranch