Got the report back on my mammogram. The girls have a clean bill of health for another year. So that's one thing taken care of.
Got an email from the mortgage company: too much money in the escrow account (again) this year, so they're mailing me a refund check, and about two and a half times the size of last year's. Presumably they will adjust the monthly cha-ching to bring the numbers into better alignment.
I was part of two presentations at work today, and both of them went well. The first involved our annual Code of Conduct training. I read a paragraph and told everybody not to rob banks or dig a pit for their neighbor. The second involved sharing an application from Who Moved My Cheese? My compatriot addressed workplace issues. I talked about my life experiences. I'll attempt to reconstruct that here.
When I was a little girl, all I wanted was to be a wife and a mother. I did reasonably well in school, went off to college and wasted a year of my life, married and divorced, went back to school while married to FirstHubby and went from academic probation to Dean's List in one semester, joined the Church, married the children's father, had five years of happiness and fifteen years of struggle, got myself free from that, was happily single for fourteen years, met Beloved, waited for him to turn weird but he didn't, got his cancer diagnosis after we had dated about a year, looked up and said, "You send me this really great guy, and he's got a death sentence?" He was brave enough to marry me, and we had a great year.
I started out very much like Hem (one of the four characters in the book). I wanted my marriage and my 2.5 kids [affectionate laughter from my coworkers] and the white picket fence [sketched a box with my hands]. And what I got was change. Lots and lots and lots of change. And I've learned to be a lot more like Sniff and Scurry.
Pretty sure that everybody in this room has some sort of challenge or struggle right now, because nobody's life is perfect. I don't remember the rest of my comments clearly, because I switched into church-talk mode, and I was speaking by the Spirit, and when that happens I tend not to remember the actual words that come out of my mouth. But I had the room spellbound for two or three minutes, and my compatriot came to my desk after the meeting was over and said that it had been absolutely perfect.
Which was about the only thing that was, at work today. It wasn't a bad day, but I'm still a little slow from Monday's procedure. (That's my story, anyway.) I slept better last night than Monday night, which was a plus. And I got most of my To-Do's done and Monday's and Tuesday's mail read and worked. But SemperFi seemed a little impatient with me, and I may have barked at him. Just a little don't mess with me warning growl.
I did not plan my wardrobe well this week. I have two green shirts, and I wore one yesterday and the other one today. Tomorrow is St. Patrick's Day. I don't want to wear Monday's shirt again. I definitely don't want to recycle today's shirt. So I went to CJ Banks and Lane Bryant and Torrid (even though I'm more Tepid) in hope of finding a new green shirt. There was one at CJ Banks, but I didn't care for the fit. So I guess it's green earrings and a green necklace tomorrow.
I hit In N Out on the way home and have inhaled my cheeseburger. Think I will have a slice of pie, then wash my hands and work on The Albatross.
I've lost another 4" DP in the car. I had my knitting pinched in my right hand, waiting for a stoplight, and one needle got loose from the live stitches and disappeared into the black hole which ate a 4" 0000 needle a couple of months ago. I went through all kinds of gymnastics once I got home, feeling around under the seats, lifting up the floor mats, etc. When I got inside, I upended my purse on my bed, because my purse had been right under my knitting. Thankfully, I have a new package of DP's in this size (one of the needles I'm using came from it), so it will be a simple matter to finish the sock.
Needless to say, I will not be risking my Blackthorn needles by knitting in the car with them. Oye to the veh!
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!