It's my day off and the Girls have been at G&V's all week... I'll be heading that way Friday or Saturday, haven't made up my mind which.
I just finished mowing the too-tall grass in the backyard and I believe the girls and I will be having a Zen-grammar lesson when they return home. It will start with me pointing at the trashcan...
Okay my little grasshoppers, what is this? That's right, a trash can...
A THING
And what kind of noun is it? Correct! It's a THING!
(Yes, they'll get that, we own the Schoolhouse Rock DVDs, including the song below)
But! What if I told you this lowly trashcan TRANSCENDS the confines of being only one type of noun? What if I told you it can be BOTH of the other kinds of noun too?
A PERSON
You see, this trashcan is our FRIEND. Mr. Trashcan opens his mouth and eats all the stuff we don't want, and holds it until we can take it out front to his big brothers, who also hold it until the nice garbage men come and take those nasty unwanted things away.
Isn't that nice of Mr. Trashcan? AND!
A PLACE
This trashcan is a place, a place you MUST learn to make a destination in your lives. This trashcan is THE PLACE you immediately go when you are out in the backyard and you've just finished say
a bottle of bubbles,
Or a Popsicle,
Or a bottle of water...
You should then realize your hand now holds an EMPTY
bubble bottle,
Or Popsicle wrapper,
Or water bottle...
Think "TRASHCAN! That's where I need to be!"
And don't OPEN that hand until you get there; do NOT allow any of these items to fall into the grass where Mr. Mower can get hold of them.
This trashcan is the PLACE to go. Do not continue playing. Do not head for the swing, or your little club area, or anywhere else. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200. Go DIRECTLY to the trashcan.
Got it, Grasshoppers? Tomorrow we'll be learning about the noun-hood of Ms. Kitchen Sink.
This lesson falls under the MMPP (Mean Momma Prevention Plan) along with running and getting my nicotine gum for me whenever I ask.
The Master Counselor sends his apologies for not doing anything particularly amusing today to blog about. (Aside from just BEING the MC, which is amusing in and of itself.) This is a balancing act... clients say and do lots of funny things during the day, but I can't blog about them (confidentiality, you know). Luckily, the MC is fair game. Unfortunately, he knows this and has been on best behavior.
Wait, its not particularly funny, but I was the victim of an MC quirk today.... and I managed to go almost all day without any nicotine gum as a (happy?) result. On satellite-office days, I ride with the MC to work: it's in another town, and he drives right past my street to get there. He told me yesterday he'd be here between 9:15 and 9:30 a.m. to pick me up today. Silly me, I forgot that 9:15 is 8:45 in MC-speak. Actually, I didn't forget, I just hoped I'd be wrong. I was dressed and ready when he got here, but I hadn't stocked my purse with gum yet. I made it through the day fairly well on placebo gum, but I'm on my second piece with nicotine juice since I got home, and I've only been here a couple hours. And Fantasia still plays in my head...
In other news... Remember T.L.C., the one who comments in my posts? You know, the ONE who comments on my posts? (ahem) Anyway, she has a new address for her blog, and I've linked to the new one down in the" Blogs I Follow", so you'll be able to see when she's posted something new, and get there more easily. Our styles are nothing alike, but she posts some insightful stuff, you should check it out when she gets it really up and running. Just sayin'.
The rest:
Oh, and have you guys noticed my playlist has commercials in it now? BOO. Still, I worked on that playlist too long... I'm keeping it.
Now I believe there comes a time when everything just falls in line...
Oops, I was singing aloud wasn't I? (#3 on the player.) Actually very apropos for the REST of what I wanted to write about: 3 years of blogging. Yes, I know my archive says 2, but I have a year's worth of blogs from the previous year posted on that first day here.
As most of you know, this blog began during my first year of widowhood. I look back at some of those posts and almost "see" the cloud that hung over me during that period... even in the cheery posts. I "see" that cloud (in some periods, even darker) over the second year... but I don't "see" that cloud anymore. I'm finally used to presenting "me". I can finally do that without feeling a need to qualify my identity with his. I don't feel a lingering depression that just won't go away... dare I believe, maybe it finally did.
I like getting out of bed in the morning. I look forward to discovering what each day holds again. I look forward to life "as is" instead of "what life was supposed to be." And that's the difference between THIS post and all the "I think I'm better" posts along the way.
However, I will say... when I read over those old posts, especially in the "What Happened" posts before Deat's death, I see a woman who looked to the Lord more for guidance than the woman I see in the mirror does now. And I'm not pleased with that. Luckily, God knows I'm ADD. He keeps revealing to me how those "Oooh, shiny!" moments, the ones that contradict having the courage of my convictions, that send me off-course, could become really painful if I keep following them. He keeps adding people to my life who remind me I need to stay close to Him. New seeds have been planted.
I also find myself being more careful, more selective, about what I say now. I suppose then, it was "more okay" to be vulnerable: I wasn't good at being anything BUT vulnerable. I'm going to try to go back to sharing what's actually in my heart... but for those of you who enjoy it, don't worry, I'll be laughing at the crazy things I observe, too. I was writing to a new blog friend about the start of JustKellyHere the other day, and I think what I said there sums it all up nicely:
I was much more honest and open in my blog in the first year or two... mostly because dealing with my grief was kind of THE POINT of the blog. Back then, hardly anyone knew it existed... Writing those posts was very healing for me. I really wasn't sure who "Just Kelly" was... It's interesting to me to go back and read those posts: they're me, but not me. I guess that means I figured it out. And that's kind of the point, too. .
Stole this from Capricorn Cringe from a post way back in her blog. I'm reading 3 year old posts from her blog so I can ignore the laundry pile RIGHT BESIDE ME waiting to be folded...
Ugh, I just reminded myself... guess I have to go now... (pout)
In other news... (See how I did that? ADD is so handy sometimes.) Tomorrow is the LONG day of the work week so I'll be carefully observing the MC for something blog-worthy. Stay tuned!
I didn't plan to blog today. I had lots of plans for getting other things in my life accomplished... Except...
This week has been crazy hectic. To explain:
Prior to my tenure with him, and in all his brilliance, the Master Counselor devised a counseling program that is unique to Kentucky. I can't say more than that or risk revealing his identity. (If I told ya, I'd have to kill ya, mostly, because he'd kill me.) I am very impressed with said program... but I wasn't impressed with the forms for documentation. Well, I take that back... considering the difference between my technological experience and his, I was VERY impressed with the forms he created... they just needed a little tweaking for consistency's sake and to make them easier to edit later.
So, I set about creating a "style" for his documentation and redesigning the forms a bit... it was just going to be something to piddle with when I had free-time between other assignments. I figured it would also benefit me in that I'd learn more about his program and real-world counseling documentation in the process.
Let me say something right here to further explain why this project is so important to me: The MC pays me even though he didn't have to. I need the hours and experience I get in his office in order to graduate. He even pays me for the hours I spend observing while he counsels clients. To say I feel an extreme debt of gratitude to the MC is an understatement; this project represented my chance to bring something of real value to him.
The MC liked my initial work, but other chores needed to take precedence... until last Wednesday. On Wednesday morning he announced that a government agency (who shall also remain nameless) would be coming in one-week hence to inspect the program at the satellite office... and he wanted all his documentation forms and program introductions in the new style... (No pressure Kel, just do your thing! Gulp..)
So we've spent hours and hours editing, revising and revamping. I couldn't wait to see what the inspector would think of them... Except...
When I asked the MC Monday if I could observe the inspection he said he thought the fewer people present at the inspection, the better; and his partners in the program would be there as well. No big, except I really wanted to go. We spent yesterday at his satellite office and had a really good day, so (hoping in his good mood, he would change his mind) I asked again, and got the same answer. (Oh well, rats.) This morning I went in to his main office early to help him put the finishing touches on his files and et cetera before the meeting.
The MC looked at me and said, "I've been thinking, it must be really important to you to be present for that inspection to have asked me twice. If you can be quiet and defer ANY question they have to me, you can go." ... Except...
I looked down at the VERY casual t-shirt and blue jeans I was wearing and thanked him but told him no, I was really under-dresssed. (RATS! RATS! RATS! RATS! RATS!!!!) He left for his meeting at his satellite office at 11:00 this morning, and took all the files with him so I have the afternoon off. He's probably in the meeting right now. Those inspector folks will have no idea of all the hard work we put into those forms in the last week, and probably won't care how about how beautifully formatted they are... but the suspense is killing me just the same.
Meanwhile, back in school... I have a major take-home exam due for my second Assessment/Diagnosis class tomorrow afternoon. On Saturday, Dr. O. handed out the info-packets that included all the information we'd need to put together the Mock Diagnostic Report that would be our Final Exam. He was one info-packet short. Since I knew some of the others in my cohort wanted to start on their's right after class, I said no problem, I'm planning to head to my parents' house right after class and won't get started on it this weekend anyway, just email it to me and I'll print it out. I only half-jokingly said "email it NOW" to make sure I'd have it. Dr. O, said he couldn't at the moment, but assured me he'd email it as soon as he got home... Since The MC turned me down on Monday and Tuesday, I planned to do it this afternoon... Except...
It's not there in my in-box. If I don't get an extension on this assignment I will kill him.
My other possible project I had planned for this afternoon was to get the laundry caught up again... Except...
Also on Saturday, I was ALMOST caught up on all the laundry, the washing part anyway. I only had one more load washing to go into the dryer; and one last load to go into the washer, so I asked my babysitter to put the load in the dryer and get the other load started in washer while I was in class... I'd put the last load in the dryer, catch up all the folding and putting away in a couple hours: the girls and I would head to P-town after that.
When I got home from class, the washer was full of water and not doing a thing. I ran upstairs and checked the breaker box: no problems. I checked the breaker on the power strip where the extension cord from the washer was plugged in, it was blown... yaay? No. Trying to turn on the washer blew it again. Sigh. Unplug the breaker, plug the extension cord directly into the wall... nothing. Check the breaker box again, no problems. Try the power strip again... nothing... but the light on the dehumidifier that was also plugged into the power strip was still on.
Call Daddy, see if he knows why I'd get this series of electrical indications. Daddy says he thinks my problem is not with the electricity but the washer itself. He also says, "I'll be there in a couple hours" (Daddy is 73 years old. He taught me tons and tons about home repair when I was growing up. He didn't NEED to drive 100 miles to look at my washer. I suspect he knew he didn't need to, but I also suspect it made him feel good to show me he loved me enough to drive 100 miles to look at my washer.)
Meanwhile, I keep checking everything out. I could hear the motor "start" to work, then stop. The tub would turn, but begrudgingly. Was there something down in between blocking it? I disassemble the whole cabinet so I can check, can't find anything, so I use my wet-dry vac to drain the water, then put everything back together. (Mostly so Daddy can order me to take it apart again when he arrives.) Daddy gets here, we try this, we try that, we suspect the motor is toast but we don't know so I'll have to call a repairman...
I had work and class Monday, and a 12 hour workday yesterday... so said repairman couldn't come until today... and OF COURSE he'd have to order the motor: it will be in tomorrow. He also mentioned that washing machine motors often blow because the washers were plugged into extension cords and didn't get enough electricity to allow them to work properly. (Just like the way MINE is set up) Which I would remedy... Except...
There is no plug anywhere within reach of the only place in my house that I could possibly PUT the washing machine... I wish Daddy had taught me how to be an electrician...
Oh well, I could still spend the afternoon folding some of that huge pile of clean clothes that still needs folding... Except...
(Wiping off a chair) Here, sit down, sit down, I'll put some coffee on. Things get really dusty around here when I don't come in often enough...
I'm sorry I haven't been here to write, it's not because I didn't want to. For the 4 people who check in regularly, I thought about you the whole time I was gone. I was actually DOING STUFF. (Yaay! There was a time in the history of this blog when I didn't want to leave the house!) I composed entry after entry... in my head.
Out and About
I had one about my last visit with Richie and Wendy (shooting pool of course!) but things were busy so I could only memorialize it in pictures (Mostly on Facebook). Richie beat me to death, Wendy is a doll baby, love them both to pieces... nothing big and new, and we didn't discuss anything amazing or earth-shattering. Then again, with great friends you don't have to, it's enough just be together.
Still not digging how I look in these "we took a shot of ourselves" pictures,
but I'll get used to it. It's the shot of the other two I really wanted anyway
Miscellaneous
I considered one about how much I'm enjoying visiting while the girls are at theater camp, how much I love my Theatre Babies, but you already know that... I am planning some mischief with my Gusto Girlfriends (the theatre Moms) but since many of them read this blog, I'll have be careful what I report... stay tuned!
I thought about writing one about Dr. P and what a great professor he is... epitome of what a counselor should be and all that... but for the girls in my cohort and me, giving Dr. P a hard time is one of the best parts of Internship Group Supervision class... so I really can't write a whole blog entry being NICE to him...
Then there was the one about... Never mind.
The MC
The one I most wanted to write is about my new internship for this semester, more specifically, to introduce you to my boss. The Master Counselor is a Vietnam Vet, and a graduate of the same master's program I'm in. Dr. P commented that my supervisor was very good at what he does; so I entered this internship with a teensy level of hero worship going before I even met him. Add to my preconceived visions of him a deep, all-business voice, a blunt no-nonsense approach to nearly everything, plus a wee bit of (admitted on his part) impatience, and I was almost intimidated into submission....
Best description I can give it: He likes some things a certain way, I'm particular about certain other things... we get together and play musical OCD. I would have written an entire blog about him a couple weeks ago, but privacy is also in his list of hang-ups, so I had to ask permission first, knowing his answer would be a big, fat NO. It took me a week to get up the nerve to ask him.
"I promise not to use your name!'
"Oh, well I guess that's okay then"
I had no intention of using his name in the first place. To me, referring to him as "The Master Counselor" is infinitely more amusing. I, of course, am "The Counselor's Apprentice."
(No kidding, every now and then when we're having a round and round discussion, I hear the music that starts at around 2:15 start playing in my head. If I'm not careful, I can see the MC resorting to the action at 8:52.)
However, I think we're getting the hang of each other. I'm there to learn, he's willing to teach. He has a ton of experience... seems to enjoy passing his learning along, and he's stinkin' brilliant. (Don't tell him I said that.) Sometimes I learn as much at lunch as I learn in an entire weekend of classes. I bring some technology experience to the table that's come in handy lately, and he makes an effort to let me know it's appreciated... which means a great deal to me. PLUS... he counsels from a holistic perspective, including the spiritual. I think God stuck me right where I needed to be.
Wish I could write more, but there's a pile of laundry the size of a VW Bug on my bed waiting to be folded. (Well, I won't be folding it tonight, but I wanted you to know it got put off so I could get this much typed out.)
I'll try to get back here soon, promise. Lock up on the way out...
I'm still smoke free. I made it to one month on the second of June, and forgot to celebrate, so I'm doing that now, with a fresh piece of nicotine gum... aaaaahhh.
Observations and Addictive-Thinking Randomness
The cigarette is still a much more efficient nicotine delivery system than the gum... you can "dose" yourself much more effectively to your craving. That said, I don't want a cigarette.
I don't want one because I'm finally out of the "habit" of smoking. I'm still addicted to nicotine, but I'm out of the habit. I have stepped down from 4mg gum to 2mg gum. Smoke-free is an accomplishment, but I have no illusions that my addiction is gone.
The nicotine gum you buy now isn't like the old kind (rubbery and gross). I'm not a huge gum fan, but since it delivers my nicotine, I'm liking it more.
It's interesting that I'm starting this at the same time I'm starting my addictions counseling internship. For example: One of the things you learn when studying addictions is that for the addict, the physical acts surrounding the addiction start to stimulate the same centers of the brain as the drug itself does: the act of procuring the drug, the acts preparing to use the drug. i.e.making the buys; laying out the paraphernalia; for a cocaine addict, making the lines; for an IV user, tying off their arm.
Anyway, the day I bought Kermit, I forgot to bring any of my gum with me. After 3-4 hours at the dealership I started getting antsy, the feeling I'd have when I'd normally ask around if anyone had a cigarette... so I asked around if anyone had any nicotine gum. One guy said no, but he had some plain gum... (gum that happened to be the same size, shape, and flavor as my nicotine gum.) As soon as I started chewing it I felt better, even with no nicotine. Weird, huh?
I still have some of that sardonic bitterness I had when I first quit. However, all those things reformed smokers annoyingly use to try to convince you to quit, telling you about how great it is to be a non-smoker? Um, well, they are starting to be "real" to me.
For example, I can REALLY smell the lilacs in my backyard now. Food does taste better. I can really smell smoke on other people now and I'm relieved that my clothes don't smell like that anymore. I really have more energy to get things done around here (either that, or I just need something to do with my hands since I don't have a cigarette in them, but that works, too).
Gee, I hope I don't start sounding that annoying. I probably will, (Okay, I just did. Anyway...) but I'm already pretty annoying in other ways, adding one more way will be okay if it keeps me smoke-free.
The "coughing up gross stuff" you get warned about? It's not as bad as I've been told, at least not so far. It doesn't happen that often and it does remind me why I don't want to smoke anymore.
Fighting the weight gain is going to suck. I think I've gained 7 pounds!
Ah well, I've come farther with not smoking than I ever imagined I would, let's see how I can do with not eating. Hey, I could start a good exercise regimen now. At least I won't lose my breath so easily.
(Okay, that last note of positive-thinking was annoying, even to me.)
