More Baby Dreams

I had another baby dream last night. Yes, I had a baby in this dream, although I don't recall doing anything bad or ignoring it. It wasn't the main part of my dream. I also dreamed that an old friend of mine, who now has step-daughters, but no biological children, came to visit me and she had a baby girl. We haven't really been friends for the past 5 years or so, but at one time we were very close. We made good "single" girlfriends, but once permanent men came into the picture it seemed to dissolve. I miss our friendship from time to time and at other times I feel anger toward her for being so willing to forget our friendship. I read an article recently about how women "ice" or dump each other, and I sometimes feel this is what happened to us. She pretty much "iced" me after I met my husband. I don't think she liked him, for whatever reason. I feel she should have trusted my judgment a little more. But c'est la vie. It is what it is.

NOT that there's anything wrong with that...

I always cringe when I hear this line, just knowing it is about to be followed by some offensive, red-necked, ridiculous notion, likely having to do with homophobia, racism, or sexism or something equally repulsive. And not wanting to be a hyprocrite, I have to admit that I've used this line as well. But tonight, I had to listen to the drivel of one of my union "brothers", at a union function, where we are being educated about social activism, who insisted that we not refer to each other as "brothers or sisters", as is union tradition. Why? Because sometimes union folks ... umm ... intermingle ... or that is ... sleep together and that's incest and that's just gross. No, this married man insisted, we are not siblings but cousins, because that's just a turn on. Yeah. This is the drivel I listened to tonight. Oh, that and about how these days he just couldn't tell if someone was a "brother" or a "sister" and he was afraid he might get beat up or ostracized for it. Because you know, HE considers himself the victim. The victim of political correctness. Or, as reasonable people call it, basic human respect. No, no people. HE is the victim, because he's just not sure what he can and cannot say in these crazy days. Well...I know just what to say. Get yourself educated or please, crawl back into your cave, you redneck, backwoods, small-town, closed-minded asshole! Well, I can say it in my head at least.

In Love

I'm in love. With who? My husband. Yeah sure, him too. He's great, don't get me wrong, I couldn't ask for a better life partner. But no, I am in love with a girl. My niece actually. She is 10 months old and the only child in our family unit. And she is GORGEOUS!!! Since I don't have kids myself I think this is as close as I can come to feeling that unconditional love one is supposed to have for their own children. I just can't imagine her not being in my life now that she's here. I will try to post a picture, but yes, I know that I am completely biased about her beauty, so don't even bother to tell me otherwise. You WILL be deleted! lol! ;)

In Dreams

For the majority of my life, starting in my early teens, I've had dreams with a recurring theme. Well, I have several recurring themes, but the one I had last night was part of one of the most prevalent themes. They are about being pregnant or having babies. Usually about babies. Babies that are mine in these dreams. Now, I am in my late 30's with no kids, and none planned. I only came to this decision in the last couple of years. I've never had any burning desire, like some women do, to have kids of my own. I've always been of the attitude that, if it happens, great, if not, I wouldn't be devastated or anything. I quite enjoy the freedom of lifestyle I have to do what I want when I want. At any rate, last night I had another one of these baby-centred dreams. They usually go something like this: Somehow I find myself with a baby. I don't recall any childbirth or pregnancy, yet here is this baby and I know it's mine. Then, I promptly forget about said baby and go on about my business, all of sudden remembering the child sometime later, thinking that I should probably go find that baby and feed it something or change the diaper. That is, if I can figure out where I left the baby. Maybe next to my keys somewhere? And there's never any sense of emotion or panic. I really find myself fairly unconcerned, just mildly curious. Like you are when you wonder if you've fed the cat lately. Yes, totally bizarre, I know. In real life, I'm actually a pretty nurturing person. I have many children in my life through friends and family and I'm always VERY careful to remember where I leave the kids! ;) And to feed them. And change diapers. And all the other stuff that goes along with caring for kids. And yet I continue to have these bizarre baby dreams. In one dream, I actually put a baby away in a drawer, just like it was a pair of socks or underwear, and remembered it later. Last night I had another one of these dreams. I believe it was the most bizarre yet. In this dream I had two baby girls. They both died. Of what, I don't know. I do recall feeling very terrible about this, and wondering what I was going to do with them now. Then, all of sudden, I had another baby. This one was a boy. Then, I picked up one of the girl babies and she sputtered with breath and came back to life. I was extremely happy that she was alive. I don't remember much about the dream besides that. In these dreams, the babies aren't necessarily the main thing that is happening. They are kind of additions to whatever else is going on. You know, the ways dreams transition inexplicably from one situation and place to another. Just part of the inexplicable transition. I clearly remember one of the first dreams I had with the baby theme. I was about 15. I was swimming in a lake, beneath a dock of some sort and somehow knew I was pregnant. I was nowhere near to having had any sex at that age. I was extremely socially immature when it came to dating and relationships. I could barely speak to a boy, let alone date one or anything else. So pregnancy was a literal impossibility at that time in my life. I don't really know what to make of it, or why it keeps occurring. If anyone has any insight please, let me know. I know pregnancy is symbolic of waiting or expecting something to happen, good or bad. But having these babies and not seeming to care about them? I mean, wtf? I bet you are feeling relief that I've decided NOT to procreate about now eh? lol! ;)

Sigh of Relief

Well, I got through the last few days which were long, exhausting days of hard work. Hubby's event was a rousing success though, for which I am very grateful, especially for him. He worked very hard on it and it was quite spectacular and we had nothing but compliments on how well the event was run. We left home Wednesday afternoon and after driving 6 hours north (with my many pee breaks thrown in!) arrived at our destination at 10pm. We worked all day Thursday to prepare for the event, doing admin work and setting up the hall which including a lot of decorating and preparing for the guests. The event itself was Friday from 4-10pm. We got up early Friday and went to put the finishing touches on the venue and prepare for our clients and guests to arrive. And they did...all night! Attendance was fantastic and it turned out to be a very profitable and successful project for us. After it was over we had to tear down and clean up. At 12:30am Saturday morning we left for the drive back down south. We got home at 6am. After a almost non-existent 3 hour sleep, I got up at 9:30 am because I had to go host a baby shower for a very close friend of mine. It had originally been scheduled for the prior week before, but she changed the date and I didn't clue in that it was the same weekend as Mac's show until it was too late. Oh well. All I really had to do was do the games and help her open and document her gifts. Luckily her Mom and Aunt did the majority of the work with the food and decorations. Then home for a 2 hour nap. Saturday night was the last night of our local fall fair so we went there for a couple of hours. Mmmm...mmm elephant ears! :) Sunday was sleep in day with a bit of housecleaning thrown in. Today, I managed to get through another day in the mailroom. It was actually much better than last week. They put me in a different room along with a couple of other people and I was nowhere near the female supervisor. Only saw her a couple of times. There was actually a different guy supervising today. Apparently he'd been on holidays last week. It was much more relaxed today with no real pressure to work faster. My arm didn't get too sore and I found a more comfortable position to sit in, so my back didn't bother me as much either. Well, the two Aleve Liquid Gels I took probably helped somewhat. All in all it was much better. Now I get to relax a bit. Mac is out of town for the afternoon so I have a few blessed hours to myself at home. Big breath .... and release. AHHHHHHHHH! Lovely. I am going to do some reading and homework tonight for my courses and revel in the knowledge that I have a nice relaxing week ahead with no commitments looming, but a couple of coffee/luncheon dates that I'm quite looking forward to. Next week is my weeklong conference at a resort 4 hours north by the lake and I am anticipating that time to do something just for myself. No mailroom next week. The next couple of weeks are looking just fine!

Risky Business

I am so annoyed today. I hate feeling this way. I am annoyed with my husband. More specifically, his business. I resent being sucked into doing work for his business because he can't handle it all or do it all himself. I never wanted to be a business owner. That was his dream. To not have to work for anyone else because he can't deal with "authority". He is VERY good at what he does, in terms of being a great salesman. But he is terrible at being a business person. He is disorganized, can't do any of his own administrative work, has terrible time-management skills, doesn't write anything down or keep proper records of anything. Won't even keep a calendar. He writes notes in his cigarette packages. He can barely work email. But, he can sell. So, who do you think gets sucked in to doing all that other stuff that goes along with having a business. The wife. And yes, I thoroughly resent all that extra work and stress being heaped upon me. I resent having to do HIS work. I especially resented it when I also had a full-time job that was both stressful and physically demanding. And I still resent it now when it gets in the way of things I want to do. This week we have to travel 5 hours north for his latest project. It is something that he does annually, that, while profitable, is also a HUGE pain in the ass to run. He gets so stressed out about having to organize this project every year. He stresses about his competition, his clients, the advertising and all the other stuff that comes with organizing an event. And yay, I get to go with him and share in the stress. And deal with his clients. Have I mentioned how much I dislike working with the public. Yeah. Great. I hate my attitude towards the whole thing. I keep thinking if only I just change my attitude, look at it from a perspective of love and how much I love him and appreciate him working so hard to try to be successful and prosperous for us. He has projects that are profitable. After many years of building them up. But he also has a side that likes to gamble and take risks. And he has had many projects that have lost us a LOT of money. I mean, several thousands of dollars. When I was working full-time and making over $60k per year, there was a time when one of his projects bombed so badly, that even with that income, I could not afford to pay the hydro or cable bills. I was making more money than I ever had in my life, and feeling more poor and destitute than I ever had. I broke up with him then. It was a pretty bad time in our relationship, to say the least. But I realized then how much he loved me. We even did counseling. And I now have a much bigger say in the type of projects he takes on. We are still recovering financially, and in some debt, but manageable debt now. But that resentment lingers. When I am feeling particularly resentful I throw it in his face how much I wish he would just get a real job, with a real, regular, stable income, some benefits and work outside the house. He could. He's got real sales skills and he is often offered jobs. But he really wants to be his own boss. And I can understand that. And I try, hard to support him. But I don't want him to be MY boss!

The Daily Mail

I've been out of work for a few months. Since April 18th to be exact. Just past my birthday. Happy birthday to me... It's been okay because I had a good paying job and managed to put some money aside and had a couple of small, unexpected winfalls which helped get us through. And due to having been unionized, our collective agreement provided for a top-up to our unemployment insurance from our employer for the first six months of the layoff. So I've taken advantage of all this and made a conscious decision to take the entire summer off, as you may have read in my previous posts. Well, said top-up is soon coming to an end. I can't believe I've been out of work for almost 5 months. It seems like just yesterday... I decided I better do something about earning a little extra money to supplement my unemployment insurance, which lasts until the end of the year. I can earn an extra $100 per week. Anymore than that and unemployment will deduct the difference from what they are giving me. Now, I am not feeling one iota of guilt about collecting my full share of unemployment. I have been working for 2o+ years and contributing to the federal employment insurance fund, and this is the first time I have ever had to make a "withdrawal". And it certainly was not of my own choosing. So screw it! I'm taking the money and the time! At any rate, I decided to take a part-time job. I am sorting mail one day a week. It is for the company that bought out the business I worked for prior to the job I just lost. Lost yet? The company that downsized me 5 years ago. Ironically, I was the mailroom supervisor! Ha ha! How's that for karma! Now, to be clear, it wasn't at the same mailroom. My company was absorbed by this other business and I (along with about 100 others) was deemed "redundant". How's that for a blow to the ego? After more than a decade of dedicated "professionalism" I was no longer necessary. Thanks and buh-bye now. So, today was my first day in the mailroom. At minimum wage, no less. Apparently the supervisor thought I was working too slowly because she walked over to me after lunch, with a bin of envelopes and told me that "it is now 12pm and you should have this bin done at 1:30pm. That is a 'feasible' goal." Yes, feasible. That's the word she used. Not reachable, not attainable, not realistic. Feasible. Trying a little too hard to find an intimidating word, in my not-so-humble opinion. I did not respond. I just grabbed a handful of envelopes and starting working a little faster. At 1:20pm she walked by my desk, jiggled nearly empty bin and said brightly "Good job!" I thanked her outwardly. Inwardly seething. Fuck you, you cow. She is one of those women who are loud and abrasive and think everything they say is highly amusing, yet tough. One of those women who are inwardly intimidated by being in charge and need to outwardly show how they in turn, can be intimidating. Or maybe that's just my ego talking. The one who is no longer in charge of the mailroom. I don't feel that opening mail is at all "beneath me". I dislike class distinctions and am trying hard to overcome my own ingrained prejudices in this regard. How am I any better than anyone else? No matter what label we as a society might put on them. Homeless, alcoholic, bum, tacky dresser, bad hair-do, religious fanatic, neo-conservative. The thousands of small and instant judgments we make on others each day. Each hour. Now, having said that it's not beneath me, one of the first people I ran into today was a lady who used to be one of my mailroom employees at the old company. Five years later, she is still on contract and awaiting a permanent position. Unbelievable. But, at least she's no longer in the mailroom. Not that that would be a bad thing, but she is so smart that she needed to grow and learn new things. She is a lovely lady! So, what's my point? I feel like I'm rambling now. Oh well, it's my blog and I'll damn well ramble if I want. Hopefully I'm not inheriting my maternal grandmother's Alzheimers. Oh yes, my point is that, Ow! I hurt tonight. My carpal tunnel was antagonized by the repetitive motions of opening the envelopes and the little chair they provided was like some kind of a torture contraption for my back, which, after 9 hours ran a serious race of hurt with my arm from the carpal tunnel. Fuck work. Time to re-read my copy of The Secret. I'm going to try attracting the lottery again!

Eating Worms

The girl was in her spot in the corner. A little cubby created by two adjoining outer walls that met just beyond the main doors to the school, which kept her partially covered in the inclement weather. And partially covered from the others. That was her spot. Everyday at recess and lunch. Forced to go out and "play", rain or shine, sleet or snow. Friends or no. Some of the bigger girls would try to be nice to her sometimes and talk to her. Her older cousin's friends. They were nice. They protected her from the older boys who liked to taunt her. "Red, green, blue, yellow, pink, purple UNDERWEAR" was the refrain one fine day when her dress had been blown up by the wind, revealing said undergarments. The girls protected her. That day. They were in grade 8. Joanne, however, was in grade 7. And she didn't like the girl. On another fine day, one of the grade 8 girls approached the girl. In her corner. She asked the girl if it was true. Is what true? Thought the girl. But she didn't vocalize this question. She never did. She rarely spoke aloud. "Is it true that you ate worms?" asked the grade 8 girl, with a look of utter disgust on her face. I did not eat worms! Exclaimed the girl. But only in her internal dialogue. In reality she made not a sound. She simply stared blankly at the grade 8 girl. Who had once been nice to her. The grade 8 girl backed away from her with that look of disgust quickly morphing into one of horror. Then she ran to her friends. The other grade 8 girls. Who had once been nice to her. Within moments they all turned to stare at the girl. In her spot. Within moments they all sported that same look of disgust. And horror. And in the background, Joanne looked on. Giggling. And pointing. And laughing to her friends. And soon everyone in the schoolyard, including the teacher on yard duty, stopped to gape at the girl. In her corner. Staring blankly at the tear-soaked asphalt beneath her.

Out of the Closet

I've recently discovered the blog of a relative and it holds some big revelations. One of the biggest being that she is a lesbian. Even though we have never been close and she doesn't know it, I am completely supportive of her. I'll be honest, it's her beautiful writing I'm drawn to though, in reading the blog. Her sexuality makes no difference to me at all. I hope it all works out well for her and her children and partner. I am optimistically hopeful that her immediate family are supportive of her. I don't doubt that they love her, but there's that deeply ingrained Catholic indoctrination to complicate things a little. I don't want her to worry that I'm going to reveal anything to anyone. That's her business to do at her own time in her own way. She can breathe that sigh of relief. It's just one more person in her real life that she can start living her life more honestly with. It's my hope that once she comes out fully that she will feel more comfortable opening up to others. She's written about having a wall of privacy around her. Yes, I've felt it certainly throughout the years. It's palpable. And not unfamiliar to me because I am of similar nature, although perhaps not to the same degree. There are many issues in her writings that mirror my own life. So many ways in which we are alike. I too have had a lifelong weight problem. I too can be far more expressive and honest in my writing than I ever could in conversation. Conversation has never come naturally to me. In fact, I don't think I spoke a word during all of kindergarten in school. I've learned to adapt over the years, but even now, certain situations shut me up completely. Small talk has always been my nemesis. For some reason I just never feel like anyone will really care about anything I have to share. I've always been hyper-sensitive to even the most gentle of criticism. I still am. The most shocking thing I've read in her blog was not about her sexuality though, but about the sexual abuse she suffered as a child by a shared relative. And I believe her. Not because it happened to me too, it didn't, but because there is one particular incident that I recall that made me feel "uncomfortable". It never crossed any lines, but it was distinctly uncomfortable. So much so that I remember it clearly to this day. But it's something I wish my mother to never know about. She'd never believe it anyway.

Gift of Time

I've been out of work now for a few months, laid off from my last job and have enjoyed the summer off very much! For the most part I've had plenty to do. There have been boring days, but I have tried my best to be appreciative of being given the gift of time and taking advantage of this blessing, even if it just means spending time by myself. Which doesn't happen often when you're husband works from home. So yes, it was a lovely summer all around. But it's that time of year now which always seems be more of a new beginning than even New Year's. Though I haven't gone back to school for many years now, it's still that rite of passage that we go through in childhood, right up until college. Then it starts for the next generation. So, I've been contemplating the best use of this gift of time I've been given this year. I can probably get away with working only a few hours a week until around Christmas or the new year. Until then, what to do, what to do? So, I've come up with a list for myself of the things I will be concentrating on this fall. And I am excited about it!

1. Repeat several times daily:

• I am grateful to live a charmed life in a friendly universe!

(Gotta love the power of attraction!)

2. Repeat several times daily (picturing Jesus’ face in front of the person’s):

• God is the Love in which I forgive You (Name).

3. Repeat several times daily (picturing Jesus’ face in front of mine):

• God is the Love in which I forgive Myself.

4. Begin studying A Course in Miracles (which I have started and no.'s 2 & 3 are two principles I'm practicing).

5. Successfully complete two community college courses. (These start next week, but I've already begun reading the texts.)

6. Attend three weeks of educational conferences. (Already booked).

7. Work 12 hours per week through the temp agency. (Registered last week.)

8. Work out 5 days a week for 30-45 minutes. (Been doing this on and off most of the summer, but mostly off the last couple of weeks.)

9. Eat a salad at each lunch and dinner and a fruit at each meal. (Yeah, this is a tough one for me. I tend to eat all healthy for periods of time, then revert back to mostly junk. Working on it.)

10. Meditate for 10-15 minutes each day before bed. (For some reason I've been finding this difficult for the past several months.)

It's not very often in our adult life when we actually get the gift of time and resources to be able to do things for ourselves, so I am determined to make the most out of it, while still having time for me. Wish me luck!