5 years ago this week I was preparing for what was to be the biggest day of my life. December 11th was my wedding day.
Last year at this time I was preparing for what was to be the saddest and hardest day of my life. December 11th was my divorce day.
Off the bat, those two days are dramatically different. For one I was with so many of my family and friends rushing around trying to get everything together so the first day of the rest of my life would go perfectly. For the other I spent it with far fewer people, but still preparing for a new “first day” of the rest of my life. The emotions felt on the 2 days were so vastly different, yet they are forever linked in a way that I cannot even begin to comprehend still at this point. December will always be about new beginnings for me.
I try so hard to see how far I have come in the last year of my life, but I cannot look back without feeling the pain of the date. You see, I picked December to get married because it has always been my favorite time of year. Christmas, the birth of Christ, my own birthday, the birth of a new year on the horizon….so many exciting times are in the month of December. I always felt it was the perfect time for a wedding….the birth of a new relationship. Now, I enter the month of December and I cannot help but feel a sense of loss. How ironic that I was assigned a court date for my divorce of December 11th---that my marriage certificate and following divorce decree have the same date on the top. My family told me this was a good thing, a fresh start. That doesn’t help the pain.
So, here I am a year later, at the beginning of a month that has always meant so much to me. It is no doubt going to be difficult. It is 1 year that I have been divorced. I will be entering my last year of my 20’s single and living at home. It will be my first Christmas morning waking up without my Grandma sitting there smiling at me with her cup of coffee in hand.
I have come a long way, and I am saying my prayers that I stay positive and I have faith that I will because I have good support and love around me. I am also taking a couple moments this Holiday season to appreciate the fact that it is ok to cry. I don’t often do that, trying so hard to be the tough one. This year I am not going to wallow by any means, that doesn’t do anyone any good, but I am going to let myself grieve for the things that I have lost. I am going to be thankful for the things I have to look forward to as well…..God has a lot in store for me, I just know =)
Monday, December 7, 2009
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Hearing Test Day
Today we had to take a hearing test at work. There is this little van like vehicle parked outside the plant that we have to walk into and sit in a "sound proof room." I put that in quotes because if you were actually in the room you would know that you can hear the semi's passing by and the low hum of a machine running somewhere, probably keeping the van warm seeing as how it is only October but already almost snowing in lovely Ohio. No, I am not bitter at all, nor do I harbor any hatred toward Mother Nature for taking my Fall away and throwing me right into an early Winter. Sarcasm, my dear friend, I love you. But, as usual, I am getting sidetracked.
So, I am kind of a control freak. Slightly OCD some might say. I mean, I don't know what the problem is with wanting things done a certain way and having things in order all the time and making sure that you have an even number of things and that you check 5 times that you lock the car door when you get out and that the utensils are always perpendicular to the table and that people DONT TOUCH MY STUFF......whew, ok, whatever, that is all normal! But, as I watch my father on a morning like this, I know where I get it from. Ok, I have know all along, but I get reminded. He has spent the entire morning walking around with the schedule making sure that eveyone stays ontime for their test. Mind you, the schedule has been printed out and posted for over a week and we are all adults fully capable of reading a clock. But, around walks my dad, putting people in "the box" (which is in the van) and then "in que" (which is in the waiting area getting prepped so there is no lag time between). I mean, I would totally be doing the same thing, but this morning, it just makes me laugh at his anal retentiveness. He even is bumping people if he can't find them fast enough to put them "in que." God, I love that man.
I get in the box for my hearing test and the woman asks politely, "Name please?" When I respond Jenna Waltz, we get into a short discussion about name changes (because last year when I took the test I was Jenna Gibson---sounds very porn star like, I know, I've been told). She tells me a story about how she followed protocol a few weeks ago, and when a woman came in who was not on the list she asked if she changed her name from last year or if she was new. This womans response was not, "Yes, I got divorced, my name is different," as mine was. This woman responded, "Yes, last year I was Chuck." Wow, ok, not quite what you are expecting, lol. So right after this, the woman puts the things over my ears, gives me the button, and closes me into the little room. Now, I am supposed to hit the button once every time I hear a buzz, left ear first. Well, my head is racing with thoughts of the woman who used to be a man so I totally forget what I am supposed to be concentrating on the buzzing in my ears not the voices in my head. So after what feel like 3 minutes of silence I realize that I haven't pressed the button at all. OH NO, THEY ARE GOING TO THINK I AM DEAF!!!!! Really, I am just crazy and listening to the voices in my head! So, in a feverish attempt to "catch up" to the buzzing, I start pressing the little button like I am in the hospital and attached to a morphine drip that I just can't get enough of. Both are pointless because well, the morphine drip is set to only dose every like 10 minutes no matter how many damn times you push that little button and the stupid hearing test I have already probably failed because I was drifting off into Jenna land and forgot I was supposed to be concentrating. By the time we were testing my right ear I was thinking so hard about the buzzing that I was forgetting to breathe. When the door opened and I was done, I thought I was going to pass out from a lack of oxygen. Needless to say, when I get the results in a few weeks, my dad will pull me into his office and ask why I don't hear the buzzing that was there yet I hear buzzing that didn't exist. Do you think he will understand my explanation about Jenna land being a happy place to drift off to in the middle of the work day? No, probably not. How about the voices in my head? Again, maybe not. Hmmm, I have a couple weeks to come up with a good excuse.
The moral on this one folks: Stay in school. HAHAHA, I don't know, nothing to do with the story, but, well, it's always a good message =)
So, I am kind of a control freak. Slightly OCD some might say. I mean, I don't know what the problem is with wanting things done a certain way and having things in order all the time and making sure that you have an even number of things and that you check 5 times that you lock the car door when you get out and that the utensils are always perpendicular to the table and that people DONT TOUCH MY STUFF......whew, ok, whatever, that is all normal! But, as I watch my father on a morning like this, I know where I get it from. Ok, I have know all along, but I get reminded. He has spent the entire morning walking around with the schedule making sure that eveyone stays ontime for their test. Mind you, the schedule has been printed out and posted for over a week and we are all adults fully capable of reading a clock. But, around walks my dad, putting people in "the box" (which is in the van) and then "in que" (which is in the waiting area getting prepped so there is no lag time between). I mean, I would totally be doing the same thing, but this morning, it just makes me laugh at his anal retentiveness. He even is bumping people if he can't find them fast enough to put them "in que." God, I love that man.
I get in the box for my hearing test and the woman asks politely, "Name please?" When I respond Jenna Waltz, we get into a short discussion about name changes (because last year when I took the test I was Jenna Gibson---sounds very porn star like, I know, I've been told). She tells me a story about how she followed protocol a few weeks ago, and when a woman came in who was not on the list she asked if she changed her name from last year or if she was new. This womans response was not, "Yes, I got divorced, my name is different," as mine was. This woman responded, "Yes, last year I was Chuck." Wow, ok, not quite what you are expecting, lol. So right after this, the woman puts the things over my ears, gives me the button, and closes me into the little room. Now, I am supposed to hit the button once every time I hear a buzz, left ear first. Well, my head is racing with thoughts of the woman who used to be a man so I totally forget what I am supposed to be concentrating on the buzzing in my ears not the voices in my head. So after what feel like 3 minutes of silence I realize that I haven't pressed the button at all. OH NO, THEY ARE GOING TO THINK I AM DEAF!!!!! Really, I am just crazy and listening to the voices in my head! So, in a feverish attempt to "catch up" to the buzzing, I start pressing the little button like I am in the hospital and attached to a morphine drip that I just can't get enough of. Both are pointless because well, the morphine drip is set to only dose every like 10 minutes no matter how many damn times you push that little button and the stupid hearing test I have already probably failed because I was drifting off into Jenna land and forgot I was supposed to be concentrating. By the time we were testing my right ear I was thinking so hard about the buzzing that I was forgetting to breathe. When the door opened and I was done, I thought I was going to pass out from a lack of oxygen. Needless to say, when I get the results in a few weeks, my dad will pull me into his office and ask why I don't hear the buzzing that was there yet I hear buzzing that didn't exist. Do you think he will understand my explanation about Jenna land being a happy place to drift off to in the middle of the work day? No, probably not. How about the voices in my head? Again, maybe not. Hmmm, I have a couple weeks to come up with a good excuse.
The moral on this one folks: Stay in school. HAHAHA, I don't know, nothing to do with the story, but, well, it's always a good message =)
Monday, October 12, 2009
PIB Octoberfest
Parking for Jet Express: $20
Fare for 7 people (kids are free) for Jet Express to Put-in-Bay: $182
Lunch at the Boardwalk because you realize you have to pay just to get into the tent to see what food/drinks are offered and you think its not worth it so you decide to eat at the Boardwalk which is there every day anyway: somewhere in the $150 range
Price for 2 people to enter the tent to get good German pastries and perogies for those craving something from Octoberfest: $8
6 Perogies: $15 (yes, you are reading that correctly)
Cost of PIB sweatshirts that are not 75% off or something because it is the end of the season but Billy has to have them: $20
Cost of 3 lbs Jenna will put on because of the amount of chocolate she ate when all she wanted was 1 chocolate covered pretzel but went to purchase and was told there was a $10 minimum purchase when using a Credit Card (and yes, I was usuing my Debit Card because I never have cash). I proceeded to buy 5 chocolate covered strawberries, 2 peanut clusters, and 2 chocolate covered pretzels to meet the minimum and ate them all within the next 5 minutes. So, total cost: a week of running =)
Cost of Billy and Uncle Jimmy's face's when they realize that Octoberfest is not what we expected and that they spent a ****load of $ to have lunch on the Island and walk around in the cold when we could have been watching the Browns first win in real time in the warmth of the condo: Priceless
All in all, it was a super fun day because of the company of family and the memories created. We laughed and shared stories and talked and just plain had fun. But I guess you had to be there to witness the craziness of realizing that the day was not what you were expecting.........Ahhh, the fun of family =)
Moral here....even when life throws you a curveball, you take a swing and you still might hit one out of the park. IE: You never know what you are going to get, but you still can have fun anyway and you might come away with a winner of a day!
Fare for 7 people (kids are free) for Jet Express to Put-in-Bay: $182
Lunch at the Boardwalk because you realize you have to pay just to get into the tent to see what food/drinks are offered and you think its not worth it so you decide to eat at the Boardwalk which is there every day anyway: somewhere in the $150 range
Price for 2 people to enter the tent to get good German pastries and perogies for those craving something from Octoberfest: $8
6 Perogies: $15 (yes, you are reading that correctly)
Cost of PIB sweatshirts that are not 75% off or something because it is the end of the season but Billy has to have them: $20
Cost of 3 lbs Jenna will put on because of the amount of chocolate she ate when all she wanted was 1 chocolate covered pretzel but went to purchase and was told there was a $10 minimum purchase when using a Credit Card (and yes, I was usuing my Debit Card because I never have cash). I proceeded to buy 5 chocolate covered strawberries, 2 peanut clusters, and 2 chocolate covered pretzels to meet the minimum and ate them all within the next 5 minutes. So, total cost: a week of running =)
Cost of Billy and Uncle Jimmy's face's when they realize that Octoberfest is not what we expected and that they spent a ****load of $ to have lunch on the Island and walk around in the cold when we could have been watching the Browns first win in real time in the warmth of the condo: Priceless
All in all, it was a super fun day because of the company of family and the memories created. We laughed and shared stories and talked and just plain had fun. But I guess you had to be there to witness the craziness of realizing that the day was not what you were expecting.........Ahhh, the fun of family =)
Moral here....even when life throws you a curveball, you take a swing and you still might hit one out of the park. IE: You never know what you are going to get, but you still can have fun anyway and you might come away with a winner of a day!
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Oh Grammer How I Hate You
So I was looking over my posting this morning and was horified at all the misspelled words and grammatical errors. Wow, so sorry to my mom and sister who were probably thinking that they have filed we horibly. Or probably not because I doubt they will ever take the time to read this. Anywho, I am embarrassed for myself and will need to edit better before I punch that little orange "publish post" button at the bottom. Thank you.
Oh ya, P.S. I totally am borrowing a shirt from Pammy's closet today =) I love her =)
Oh ya, P.S. I totally am borrowing a shirt from Pammy's closet today =) I love her =)
Friday, October 2, 2009
"C" is for cookie.....
I may have done something bad.
Ok, I am fairly confident I was mean.
Yes, I am certain I was evil.
As you might have guessed by the title of this blog, I like fashion. That might be an understatement.....I live for shoes and purses. If stilletos did not exist there would be no need for me to breathe anymore. I love everything about shoes: the way they look on your feet, the way they make you feel, the way they make a womans legs look fantastic even when she is only 4'10" (I mean, not that I would know from personal experience what it is like to be that short). And shoes always fit. On a "fat day" you can still put on your favorite pair of sparkly black Nina heals and feel good about yourself. Even your best pair of jeans can't revive a "fat day." Walking through a shoe department for me is like looking at all the things in the world that have the possibility of making me happy all lined up pretty with lights on them saying "Look at me Jenna, life isn't so bad, put me on and everything will be ok." Ahhhh.....sweet sweet dreams of Macy's shoe's........Oh shoot, wait! This was about me being evil! Crap! Sorry, got side tracked!
Ok, Focus! Whew, that was close, almost totally lost it for a moment. I'm back now, and my guilt is restored to my moment yesterday where I was evil. So, me, total fashionista =) Now, I am aware that I am not perfect. Do I make mistakes, yes. Have I left the house looking totally disheveled, absolutly. However, I try very hard to always always look my best. As my good friend Gina would have to agree with me, you never know when you are going to run into people you may know or the man of your dreams.....and you don't want either to see you looking like you just rolled out of bed and threw on whatever was on your floor onto your body. (AKA, no going to the B-ville Starbucks without your prom dress, HAHAHA, right G). So, needless to say, I try to always be cute.
This has somewhat led to me becoming the "fahion go-to-girl" in my household. I guess watching every episode of "What Not to Wear" and idolizing Stacy and Clinton will get a girl a good name with the fam. A few years ago I was even shopping with my mom ( I think we were at Dillards) when one of the sales ladies asked if I was a personal shopper. Woo Hoo, bonus points for me! So, anyway, I am used to things being borrowed and my advice being solicited.
Yesterday morning shortly after 6am while I was snoozing (yes, I am a snoozer, you never want to sleep with me, I hit that dang button like 5 times in the morning) my mom shouted up to me, "Can I wear your new blue coat today, I am wearing a blue outfit and I think it would be cute." I think I vaguly remember groaning a yes. It is at this point that I must interject 3 statements. 1) My mom is gorgeous. Like really, beautiful. She is a very put together 50 something lady. I am sure many women are jealous of her and I only hope to look as good as she does when I get to be that age. 2) She 90% of the time looks fantastic and has a great sense of fashion. Her clothes are cute and a lot of the items (if I was small enough....keep dieting Jenna, you can do it) are things I would borrow. 3) She is "matchy matchy" While I would borrow a lot of her things, I might not necessarily put them together the way she does. For example: she insists that blue jeans go best with blue shirts. And that is she is wearing a red shirt she needs red shoes, and a red purse, and red earings, and a red ring, and a red necklace, and a red scarf and a red coat.......you get my drift. Oh, and the over-accesorizing is a little much. Now I have tried to insist that you can infact wear a black shirt with blue jeans and throw in, oh, I don't know, red shoes for shits and giggles, but this is all a little much to grasp. We are taking it slowly and following the advice of CoCo Chanel and removing one article of jewelry before you leave the house so that you never over do it. Ok, but I am getting sidetracked again, I just needed to give you the backdrop.
So, after snoozing half of my morning away I come downstairs to see my mom in what I can only describe as the worst outfit she owns (I am so sorry). She is hip and I love her dearly so I am sorry this is public knowledge now, but yes, the worst outfit she owns. It looks like something an 80 year old woman should be wearing. And I have thought that from the day she bought it. It is a pair of bright blue pants with a matching blue buttom up top that has some embelishment on it. And today she is wearing it with a blue scarf, blue shoes and some blue jewelry. Its bad. I take one look at her and say, "THIS is what you are planning on wearing my BRIGHT BLUE coat with?" She sweetly smiles and says, "Yes!" (Oh no, this is wear I am feeling bad again). Horrified, I shout out, "No, I cannot under and circumstances let you do that! You cannot borrow it. I cannot let you leave the house, in my clothes looking like COOKIE MONSTER!!!" She just stared at me. I continued, "I will not have people think I helped you pick this outfit out, and when you tell them it is my coat that you borrowed they will think I helped and I want no part in people thinking I okayed you looking like Cookie Monster. Mom, you can't be serious that you think this is okay!?!?!? Really? This is not okay!!!!"
I'm officially a bitch. I mean, I kind of thought that I might be, but this just sealed the deal.
I got to work, called my sister and told her the story....ya, she agrees, I'm a bitch.
I mean, I don't deny that I'm totally right in my opinion, it was terrible, and she really did look like Cookie Monster. I was waiting for Elmo and the gang to pop out at any minute and start to sing me a song about life lessons or something. But that didn't happen. All that happened was that I got home from work, apologized to my mom (who did infact wear the blue coat to work---she told me she was actually going to wear another completly fabulous coat of mine but couldn't find it, thought I hid it from her, so she wore the blue one out of spite), then felt bad that I was so harsh in my judgment. I should have expressed my distaste in a better way than calling her Cookie Monster (even if the shoe fit, LOL).
Life lesson for the day: There are nice ways to say what you are feeling without making it at someone else's expense. Even when you are trying to help, make sure you are not hurting someone's feelings.
Ok, I am fairly confident I was mean.
Yes, I am certain I was evil.
As you might have guessed by the title of this blog, I like fashion. That might be an understatement.....I live for shoes and purses. If stilletos did not exist there would be no need for me to breathe anymore. I love everything about shoes: the way they look on your feet, the way they make you feel, the way they make a womans legs look fantastic even when she is only 4'10" (I mean, not that I would know from personal experience what it is like to be that short). And shoes always fit. On a "fat day" you can still put on your favorite pair of sparkly black Nina heals and feel good about yourself. Even your best pair of jeans can't revive a "fat day." Walking through a shoe department for me is like looking at all the things in the world that have the possibility of making me happy all lined up pretty with lights on them saying "Look at me Jenna, life isn't so bad, put me on and everything will be ok." Ahhhh.....sweet sweet dreams of Macy's shoe's........Oh shoot, wait! This was about me being evil! Crap! Sorry, got side tracked!
Ok, Focus! Whew, that was close, almost totally lost it for a moment. I'm back now, and my guilt is restored to my moment yesterday where I was evil. So, me, total fashionista =) Now, I am aware that I am not perfect. Do I make mistakes, yes. Have I left the house looking totally disheveled, absolutly. However, I try very hard to always always look my best. As my good friend Gina would have to agree with me, you never know when you are going to run into people you may know or the man of your dreams.....and you don't want either to see you looking like you just rolled out of bed and threw on whatever was on your floor onto your body. (AKA, no going to the B-ville Starbucks without your prom dress, HAHAHA, right G). So, needless to say, I try to always be cute.
This has somewhat led to me becoming the "fahion go-to-girl" in my household. I guess watching every episode of "What Not to Wear" and idolizing Stacy and Clinton will get a girl a good name with the fam. A few years ago I was even shopping with my mom ( I think we were at Dillards) when one of the sales ladies asked if I was a personal shopper. Woo Hoo, bonus points for me! So, anyway, I am used to things being borrowed and my advice being solicited.
Yesterday morning shortly after 6am while I was snoozing (yes, I am a snoozer, you never want to sleep with me, I hit that dang button like 5 times in the morning) my mom shouted up to me, "Can I wear your new blue coat today, I am wearing a blue outfit and I think it would be cute." I think I vaguly remember groaning a yes. It is at this point that I must interject 3 statements. 1) My mom is gorgeous. Like really, beautiful. She is a very put together 50 something lady. I am sure many women are jealous of her and I only hope to look as good as she does when I get to be that age. 2) She 90% of the time looks fantastic and has a great sense of fashion. Her clothes are cute and a lot of the items (if I was small enough....keep dieting Jenna, you can do it) are things I would borrow. 3) She is "matchy matchy" While I would borrow a lot of her things, I might not necessarily put them together the way she does. For example: she insists that blue jeans go best with blue shirts. And that is she is wearing a red shirt she needs red shoes, and a red purse, and red earings, and a red ring, and a red necklace, and a red scarf and a red coat.......you get my drift. Oh, and the over-accesorizing is a little much. Now I have tried to insist that you can infact wear a black shirt with blue jeans and throw in, oh, I don't know, red shoes for shits and giggles, but this is all a little much to grasp. We are taking it slowly and following the advice of CoCo Chanel and removing one article of jewelry before you leave the house so that you never over do it. Ok, but I am getting sidetracked again, I just needed to give you the backdrop.
So, after snoozing half of my morning away I come downstairs to see my mom in what I can only describe as the worst outfit she owns (I am so sorry). She is hip and I love her dearly so I am sorry this is public knowledge now, but yes, the worst outfit she owns. It looks like something an 80 year old woman should be wearing. And I have thought that from the day she bought it. It is a pair of bright blue pants with a matching blue buttom up top that has some embelishment on it. And today she is wearing it with a blue scarf, blue shoes and some blue jewelry. Its bad. I take one look at her and say, "THIS is what you are planning on wearing my BRIGHT BLUE coat with?" She sweetly smiles and says, "Yes!" (Oh no, this is wear I am feeling bad again). Horrified, I shout out, "No, I cannot under and circumstances let you do that! You cannot borrow it. I cannot let you leave the house, in my clothes looking like COOKIE MONSTER!!!" She just stared at me. I continued, "I will not have people think I helped you pick this outfit out, and when you tell them it is my coat that you borrowed they will think I helped and I want no part in people thinking I okayed you looking like Cookie Monster. Mom, you can't be serious that you think this is okay!?!?!? Really? This is not okay!!!!"
I'm officially a bitch. I mean, I kind of thought that I might be, but this just sealed the deal.
I got to work, called my sister and told her the story....ya, she agrees, I'm a bitch.
I mean, I don't deny that I'm totally right in my opinion, it was terrible, and she really did look like Cookie Monster. I was waiting for Elmo and the gang to pop out at any minute and start to sing me a song about life lessons or something. But that didn't happen. All that happened was that I got home from work, apologized to my mom (who did infact wear the blue coat to work---she told me she was actually going to wear another completly fabulous coat of mine but couldn't find it, thought I hid it from her, so she wore the blue one out of spite), then felt bad that I was so harsh in my judgment. I should have expressed my distaste in a better way than calling her Cookie Monster (even if the shoe fit, LOL).
Life lesson for the day: There are nice ways to say what you are feeling without making it at someone else's expense. Even when you are trying to help, make sure you are not hurting someone's feelings.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
August 29th, 2009
A day that I cannot yet write about except to share this poem that was shared with me. It is beautiful and made me both smile and cry. Thank you...
In the Next Room by Canon Henry Scott Holland
Death is nothing at all: I have only slipped away into the next room.
I am I and you are you;
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
Call me by my old familiar name.
Speak to me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no difference in your tone:
Wear no forced air or solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, Just around the corner.
All is well.
In the Next Room by Canon Henry Scott Holland
Death is nothing at all: I have only slipped away into the next room.
I am I and you are you;
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
Call me by my old familiar name.
Speak to me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no difference in your tone:
Wear no forced air or solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, Just around the corner.
All is well.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
July 3rd, 2008
AKA: DAY 3 OF WORKING WITH MY FATHER.
To start, let me say that at this time I was 27 years old. Mature. Living on my own (married, yes, but had been separated for almost 3 years….a story for another day). College educated. Mature. I had been working in sales for 4 years. I was ready to take on the new task of stepping into a position at my dads company with the vision of learning manufacturing and eventually using my sales knowledge to go out into the world and expand his business. I was thrilled. I was excited. I was going to conquer the world my dad needed me to. Did I mention I was mature?
Ok, yes, I was frightened, but that’s not what this is about….this is about the first 3 days. I had just left the housing market, which we all know was doing so fantastically! So, needless to say, I had a lot of time on my hands before. I was now going to be in an office for the first time in my life and learning from my dad. Still, I walked in knowing I was going to be amazing. I mean, after all, I was the boss’s daughter and confidence is half the battle, right? So, I went in at 8am (after an hour drive and 2 cans of Red Bull) ready to kick ass. From there it becomes a blur. There were phones ringing, calls to transfer, computer systems to learn, accounting? whats accounting?, payroll systems, employee paperwork, invoicing, and lions and tigers and bears OH MY! I was replacing a woman who had been with my dad for almost 10 years. She knew what she was doing. Being the “boss’s daughter” I felt like I had to make a good impression and learn everything right away, so I worked my tail off those first days trying to quickly learn everything this woman had done for 10 years. I literally (sorry Michelle and Amanda if you are reading this, literally has to be said here, LOL) felt like a chicken with its head cut off running around the office. I wanted it to seem like I could manage it all with no problems. Answering this call, copying this order, learning this program, entering this PO, calling this truck….did I pee yet today?
So, it finally got to be about 4:45 on day 3, which lucky for me was also the day before a Holiday and I had a 3 day weekend coming up. OMG, I can pee whenever I want, without asking my dad if I can take a break from learning what a t-bar thingy is! (BTW, it's some accounting thing that I can draw, but does it make sense to this day…only kind of, shhhh, don’t tell my dad). I had just finished doing a task and I was supposed to go tell my dad when I was done. I had to go potty real bad and I was starving, but I figured, go tell dad you’re finished, it’s 4:45, he probably just going to tell you to take it easy for the last few minutes of the day then you can use the restroom, grab a Twix bar and catch up on People.com (I am sure so much has happened in the 3 days I have been out of the loop!). So, I walk into my dad’s office, announce that I am finished, and smile when I see him look at his watch to realize that it is 4:45. No time to do anything else. WRONG. He promptly jumps up and says, “Great, lets quickly learn one more thing for the day!”
WHAT! Are you nuts!? Do you not see the glossy look in my eyes that says I cannot possibly hold any more information!? Do you not see my tummy looking full because I haven’t peed all day because there has been no time!? Do you know that I might fall asleep right now because the last time I had to wake up at 6AM to go anywhere was high school!? DO YOU NOT KNOW THAT I WANT A TWIX BAR!? DADDY, GO GET ME A TWIX BAR!!!!!!!!
Those were the calm, rational, mature thoughts (I mentioned I was mature, right?) running through my head at that moment. Your internal monologue screaming “Daddy get me a Twix bar!” is definitely a sign of maturity =)
What did I do? I smiled, and said “Great, let’s go!” Then a week later I told my dad the story when I was out to dinner with him and my mom and he simply looked at me, patted me on the back, and said “Welcome to the real world hun, it sucks.”
The moral of this story is, there are times you have to suck it up and hope that your internal monologue is working and you don’t vocalize what you are thinking. But, there are also times where we have all wanted to look at our bosses, no matter who they may be, and just simply yell “SHUT UP AND GET ME A TWIX!”
To start, let me say that at this time I was 27 years old. Mature. Living on my own (married, yes, but had been separated for almost 3 years….a story for another day). College educated. Mature. I had been working in sales for 4 years. I was ready to take on the new task of stepping into a position at my dads company with the vision of learning manufacturing and eventually using my sales knowledge to go out into the world and expand his business. I was thrilled. I was excited. I was going to conquer the world my dad needed me to. Did I mention I was mature?
Ok, yes, I was frightened, but that’s not what this is about….this is about the first 3 days. I had just left the housing market, which we all know was doing so fantastically! So, needless to say, I had a lot of time on my hands before. I was now going to be in an office for the first time in my life and learning from my dad. Still, I walked in knowing I was going to be amazing. I mean, after all, I was the boss’s daughter and confidence is half the battle, right? So, I went in at 8am (after an hour drive and 2 cans of Red Bull) ready to kick ass. From there it becomes a blur. There were phones ringing, calls to transfer, computer systems to learn, accounting? whats accounting?, payroll systems, employee paperwork, invoicing, and lions and tigers and bears OH MY! I was replacing a woman who had been with my dad for almost 10 years. She knew what she was doing. Being the “boss’s daughter” I felt like I had to make a good impression and learn everything right away, so I worked my tail off those first days trying to quickly learn everything this woman had done for 10 years. I literally (sorry Michelle and Amanda if you are reading this, literally has to be said here, LOL) felt like a chicken with its head cut off running around the office. I wanted it to seem like I could manage it all with no problems. Answering this call, copying this order, learning this program, entering this PO, calling this truck….did I pee yet today?
So, it finally got to be about 4:45 on day 3, which lucky for me was also the day before a Holiday and I had a 3 day weekend coming up. OMG, I can pee whenever I want, without asking my dad if I can take a break from learning what a t-bar thingy is! (BTW, it's some accounting thing that I can draw, but does it make sense to this day…only kind of, shhhh, don’t tell my dad). I had just finished doing a task and I was supposed to go tell my dad when I was done. I had to go potty real bad and I was starving, but I figured, go tell dad you’re finished, it’s 4:45, he probably just going to tell you to take it easy for the last few minutes of the day then you can use the restroom, grab a Twix bar and catch up on People.com (I am sure so much has happened in the 3 days I have been out of the loop!). So, I walk into my dad’s office, announce that I am finished, and smile when I see him look at his watch to realize that it is 4:45. No time to do anything else. WRONG. He promptly jumps up and says, “Great, lets quickly learn one more thing for the day!”
WHAT! Are you nuts!? Do you not see the glossy look in my eyes that says I cannot possibly hold any more information!? Do you not see my tummy looking full because I haven’t peed all day because there has been no time!? Do you know that I might fall asleep right now because the last time I had to wake up at 6AM to go anywhere was high school!? DO YOU NOT KNOW THAT I WANT A TWIX BAR!? DADDY, GO GET ME A TWIX BAR!!!!!!!!
Those were the calm, rational, mature thoughts (I mentioned I was mature, right?) running through my head at that moment. Your internal monologue screaming “Daddy get me a Twix bar!” is definitely a sign of maturity =)
What did I do? I smiled, and said “Great, let’s go!” Then a week later I told my dad the story when I was out to dinner with him and my mom and he simply looked at me, patted me on the back, and said “Welcome to the real world hun, it sucks.”
The moral of this story is, there are times you have to suck it up and hope that your internal monologue is working and you don’t vocalize what you are thinking. But, there are also times where we have all wanted to look at our bosses, no matter who they may be, and just simply yell “SHUT UP AND GET ME A TWIX!”
Monday, September 28, 2009
Change
The last year and a half of my life can easily be described in one word, “change.” I have changed careers, homes, and relationships. I have put myself on a journey to get healthy and change my lifestyle. Most recently I have had to experience what it is like to lose a family member.
There have been many moments where I have been sitting with friends laughing at experiences, or crying about what has be dealt my way where I have thought “I can help someone else learn from this.” Thus the idea of creating this blog….it is meant as both a way for me to vent what I am feeling when I’m angry, tell stories when I’m laughing so hard I have to pee (yes, sometimes it happens, if you are a women you understand), and just talk to anyone who wants to listen. I hope to be both inspirational to others and to learn something from myself. Because after all this change, let me just say, I’m slightly lost.
I might start by looking back at some things that have happened and tell those stories because some stand out as funny and I think they would be enjoyed. I might just post some things that I find inspirational. I’m not really sure yet. This is my first time trying something like this. If you have thoughts, or suggestions or comments or anything, please, let me know =)
Until next time, I leave you with this….
Hebrews 11:1 Faith is being sure of what we hope for and confident in what we do not see.
There have been many moments where I have been sitting with friends laughing at experiences, or crying about what has be dealt my way where I have thought “I can help someone else learn from this.” Thus the idea of creating this blog….it is meant as both a way for me to vent what I am feeling when I’m angry, tell stories when I’m laughing so hard I have to pee (yes, sometimes it happens, if you are a women you understand), and just talk to anyone who wants to listen. I hope to be both inspirational to others and to learn something from myself. Because after all this change, let me just say, I’m slightly lost.
I might start by looking back at some things that have happened and tell those stories because some stand out as funny and I think they would be enjoyed. I might just post some things that I find inspirational. I’m not really sure yet. This is my first time trying something like this. If you have thoughts, or suggestions or comments or anything, please, let me know =)
Until next time, I leave you with this….
Hebrews 11:1 Faith is being sure of what we hope for and confident in what we do not see.
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