BloggingDangerously

Tempus Omnia Sanat*

Five years ago we put an offer in on a house and it was accepted.  The following day another realtor called us and said, "You need to see a different house."  So we did.

As I walked through the second house I became more and more nauseous.  My husband, who LOVED the house couldn't figure out why I didn't, apparently, share his enthusiasm.

Finally we walked into the formal living room together and shut the door.

"Well?" he asked.

"I love it." I said mournfully.

"What's wrong?" he asked. 

"Now we have to get out of the other house." I told him.  And then I started worrying - more like obsessing - for 36 hours.  I lay awake all night.  I threw up.  I had chest pains.  And then my husband called the first realtor and told her that we'd changed our mind and it was done.

This summer when I thought we had bedbugs the same thing happened.  I couldn't eat.  I couldn't sleep.  I had heartburn.  I had chest pains.  And then I found out we only had crabs and I rejoiced.

And this week there's been a family issue happening that's really bringing me down - despite the corporate success and I'm trying to remember that in 5 years it will be resolved and I don't need to obsess about it.  Whatever will happen, will happen whether I make myself sick about it or not.

So let's do a little exercise.  Take a minute to think of something that's been taking up too much of your emotional energy that you can't control and remind yourself that at some point, it will be history, and making yourself sick about it is NOT helping your ability to deal with it.

Okay, now remind me.

#wineparty, 9pm eastern.

* Time Heals All

 

A Massage with a Happy Ending... (Sponsored)

Massage Envy, the pioneer and national leader of professional, convenient and affordable massage and spa services, has partnered with the Arthritis Foundation to host Healing Hands for Arthritis, a one-day national event to build awareness and raise funds to fight arthritis. On World Arthritis Day, October 12, 2011, Massage Envy will donate $10 from every one-hour massage and facial to the Arthritis Foundation. Prices range from $39 - $69 for facials and massages depending on location.

Kit:  I LOVE Massage Envy.  All I asked my husband for last year for Christmas was a gift certificate to Massage Envy and that's what I got him for our last anniversary.

In fact, our anniversary is next week and I'm going to make him an appointment on October 12th as a present. 

When else have you been able to feel so WONDERFUL about doing something so good?

Seriously, you should get a massage. It's the selfless thing to do.

But wait until October 12th, okay?

 

I DID IT.

It was hard for me to celebrate my birthday last month because last year I had committed to myself to make a huge change in my life and it hadn't come to fruition - and I was disappointed.

Last year I had looked at my career and my family's finances and decided that - despite the fact that I had been with my previous company in excess of 12 years - and despite the fact that I had a lot of great relationships in place and was very secure - I needed to make a change.

You see I want big things for my family.  I want to build a new house where we can grow without feeling cramped.  I want to take my children to new places.  I want to be able to send them to college.

And I don't want to live my life fearful that the next unexpected expense is going to give me a stroke.

So last year I decided that I was going to get a new job.  And I did.  And it promised great riches.

And it didn't deliver.  For a long, long, long time.

Until today.  Today I closed a huge deal.  And it's not going to change my life.

But it just might change my blood pressure.

So thank you.  Thank you all for being with me for the past year and for encouraging me when I got a little ranty and for distracting me when I got a little anxious and just for coming here and spending time with me every day.

You rock.

And so do I.

And now I'm going to take a LONG.EFFING.NAP.

The Crazy In My Head: The Myth of Bird Shit

The other day I was standing on a sidewalk with 4 coworkers waiting to make a presentation to a potential client.  Suddenly one of my coworkers jumped back - but it was too late.  His sporting pinstripe suit and shiny black shoes were now sporting a shiny streak of birdshit.

"It's good luck." one of my other coworkers said.

Bird shit?  That sounded like bull shit to me.

Like on my wedding day, when 125 of my closest friends and acquaintances were scheduled to celebrate with me on a grassy knoll overlooking the Cape Cod Canal - and it poured.  And my sister-in-law to be comforted me with, "It's good luck!"

Luck?  It's lucky for her I didn't want to enter the family with a left hook.

I wonder why we call these episodes of decidedly bad luck, lucky.  Is it to cheer up the recipient?  Is it to ward off the portent of bad luck with the promise of good?

And while we're on the subject of luck - why isn't there more good luck in the world?  It's WAY more often that I come home to find out that my car NEEDS a new transmission than to find out that my car WON a new transmission.

My internet never accidentally gets faster.

I never get a check I wasn't expecting.

My mortgage company never calls to tell me that I OVERPAID.

Traffic is never better than I expect.

I never get anywhere EARLY.

And when I get shit on by a bird, I never call it lucky.

Wait Until She's Changing MY Diaper

This morning my 6year old asked me, "Mommy, what's slavery?"

"It's when one person OWNS another person and makes that person do work for them and doesn't pay them."

Before I could get into the social injustice part she looked at me, nodded and said, "Oh, so you and Daddy are our slaves?"