And I don’t want to be.
When I completed my college career, I spent a good deal of time applying for and interviewing for jobs in various fields. Like so many other freshly minded college grads, I had only a vague idea of what my life’s path should be.
And by vague, I mean “no idea whatsoever.”
And so, I hopscotched my way through as many of the human resource departments in as many companies as I could think of, applying for a “job” and not having the slightest clue what my work-a-day world would soon look like.
OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder)- Everybody’s personal excuse for trying to get things done their own way.
I like things my own way.
I am not unique in that obsession. I have worked long and hard to reach this state of obsessive compulsive existence — as I’m sure many of you have, as well.
I consider myself to be more organized than the average person. The old adage applies to me — “A place for everything and everything in its place.” No where does that hold true more than when it comes to me and my dishwasher.
That being the case…
My mother’s extraordinary wisdom was often doled out in small doses.
My mother was a brilliant woman. Oh, she was not highly educated. She did not run a Fortune 500 corporation. She did not control a multi-billion dollar stock portfolio.
She was none of those things typically classified as “brilliant.”
She was, to coin a well-worn cliche, “street smart.”
My mother learned about life by living it. She was raised in a poverty-level family with twelve children (two of whom did not live to reach adulthood) and an often drunk father who couldn’t always hold down a job. …
That vaguely accurate mechanical gadget is not your friend.
Let me start off with this disclaimer — I am not overweight. I have never been overweight. I don’t fear becoming overweight any time in the near future.
That being said, I have grown to hate my bathroom scale.
I am a strong believer in:
They have much more in common than just being five letter words starting with the letter “G”
Grief is a universal experience and emotion. It comes to us all in one form or another — sometimes over and over again.
The circumstances that result in grief seem to mount steadily as one goes through life. It might start as simply as a sadness over the death of a pet goldfish as a child and grows to the point where the loss is a beloved person in life (it doesn’t much matter whether the death was “to be expected” at the…
It may be time to rethink my alliances.
I come from a long line of house plant nurturers. My grandmother would cultivate any living green thing (I think some of them were actually weeds) she could bring into her home. She seemed to have a knack for making vegetation thrive.
This passion fell to my mother in a natural course of events. In fact, my grandmother once gave my mother a single leaf from her philodendron plant to root and grow in her own home (she was successful in creating that new plant). …
. . . Or, why repetition will not lead to a stronger argument.
I am a relatively quiet talker. I keep my voice at a civilized, normal decibel level. I state my case as succinctly as I can — and then I stop speaking!
I’ve noticed lately that I am in a distinct minority.
In fact, I’ve noticed a clear uptick in both decibel level and the apparent need to repeat a thought or opinion until the speaker has badgered the listener (and anyone else within hearing range) into submission.
There is so much noise in this world that, for…
How did I ever let this chaos take over my life?
I have a password to access my computer. I have a password to access my phone. I have a password to access my e-mail. I have one or more passwords to access every app, website, social media site, banking site and any other function imaginable.
I am password rich.
I am also password crazy.
I came to realize this recently when I needed to update my profile on a shopping website. It turns out the password I use to shop on this site is not the same one I…
In the not-so-famous words of my sainted mother, “It is better to be silent and thought a fool than to speak and remove all doubt.” (This quote is not original with her, I’m sure — but she used it with great regularity.)
Therapists and counselors of all types love to preach the value of “open communications” when instructing couples, family members and assorted relationship groupings of all types on the best way to maintain or re-establish harmony in their relationships.
It seems as if every issue should be resolved with a few hastily spoken words that will clear the air…
My cluttered desk created a cluttered mind.
I am, by my most basic nature, an organized and structured person. I put away my laundry. I open and distribute my mail (mostly to the trash bin) as soon as I bring it in from the mailbox. I push in my chair (and those around me that are in disarray). I pay my bills, write my checks, push send on crucial texts and e-mails — all with the good intentions of being on top of my game.
All the time. Every day. It is my mission in life — indeed, I pride…