jessteronimo

What Can I Say? I'm Really Busy

So, yeah, you probably noticed that I fell off the grid for a while. It isn't because I don't care about writing anymore. When people say, "I'm really busy," that can mean different things to different people. I've found that they don't often mean it the way I do. I mean it more than most.

For the last few months, I've essentially been working three jobs plus some side jobs--and I'm not getting paid for most of it. In fact, I'm paying for large parts of it. I have a full-time job that always promises to challenge and bewilder. We've had a harder year than usual, and I've been contending with problems and situations that tend to hyjack my daily work, which puts me into a lot of overtime. Then, in the late spring, my father's business experienced some significant challenges that he wasn't staffed to contend with and overcome, so I stepped in to help turn things around. It's been a real struggle, especially because it's long distance (he lives about 3 hours from me). I've found that it's damn near impossible to stop a speeding train without a crash, but it won't stop me from trying. I continue to teach and study karate for several hours three days a week. The classes are getting bigger, and the other instructors are getting flakier, which puts a strain on those of us who are there consistently. And I recently helped my sister's business with setting up some IT infrastructure when it moved offices, a process that didn't go as smoothly as I had hoped. And I've been helping various friends and family with other things that have popped up. I've been so busy, I didn't even notice when my domain name expired! That's crazy!

In short, I've been spending every waking moment working on something for someone else. It's more than old. I'm beat, fried. It needs to stop, and soon. Or I will simply fly apart.

Quid Pro Quo

A few months ago, my daughters schemed up a way to get stuff they wanted from their dad in exchange for stuff he wanted from them. (I was left out of this game, presumably because I get what I want out of them all--or maybe I'm just not around enough to play.)  The girls created coupons that could be redeemed when they saw fit. For example, one coupon says that they can start their schoolwork an hour later than normal. Dad has a balancing coupon that says they need to start an hour earlier. So if they cash in their hour later coupon, Dad can redeem his hour earlier one the next day. Or they can be unrelated. For example, the girl's coupon might say "Make me dinner" and Dad's might say "Go to bed early." And Dad has override abilities, of course, for when things are getting out of hand--or he brings Mom in--but they've all agreed to be reasonable and play by the rules to prevent discord and total anarchy. Well, I saw one of my youngest's coupons that she turned in, and it made me chuckle. It read: "Leave me alone!" I wonder what Dad's balancing coupon said!

Then Cometh the Flood

The other day, Ben and I were watching a movie together on his iPad in our living room when my brother-in-law, who lives in our basement apartment, came dashing up the stairs and darted into our family bathroom. A few seconds later he came back out and informed us that our bathroom was flooding. Horrors! Apparently the handle had gotten stuck, so the valve wasn't closing off. The water overflowed from the tank onto the floor, and then, because there's a heater vent near the toilet, it started flowing into his bathroom downstairs. An hour and several towels later, we finally mopped up the last of the spill. By then, all soggy and exhausted, we'd lost interest in our movie and went to bed instead. Good times!

Road Rage Gone Wrong

I turned the corner wide, like I watch everyone else do every single morning when turning that particular corner. But because I wasn't used to the visibility in my new car, I didn't see the little Mazda Miata that was in the lane in merged into--who had to swurve out of my way. Now, I know what you're thinking, but I really am a good driver. I felt really bad about this lapse, so when we got stopped next to each other at the next stoplight, I mouthed "sorry" to him as he turned to yell at me. He suddenly started gesturing more angrily (sans the "bird," thank the Light). I kept mouthing "sorry," quite unable to do anything else. I certainly wasn't going to ignore him when I was in the wrong. The light changed, and I was relieved that he sped off with a parting thumb's down sign. But then we got stopped next to each other at the next light, and he rolled down his window. Now I was getting frustrated. Okay, here we go, I thought angrily. I rolled down my window, and as he leaned over in his seat to get in better shouting distance, I called out, "So sorry!"

He froze with his mouth hanging open, clearly stunned that a fellow driver would readily admit to wrongdoing. "Oh," he called then, "I totally thought you were telling me it was my fault!"

"Oh no!" I called. "I know what I did wrong. Very sorry!"

"Well... okay then," he called back, followed by, "Have a great day!" And he sped away again, all happy.

As I watched his lights leave me, I thought that that whole exchange would have been easier if I had a custom horn that shouted, "Ooops! Sorry! My bad!" But then of course, we'd have to have the other custom horns, the ones that say things like "Hang up and drive!" and "That is NOT driving, you MORON!" and "Get out of my way!" and far, far more, um, expressive sayings. This would undoubtedly get out of hand rapidly. So I guess gesturing and talking through windows will have to cut it for now, and the road rage will continue. I can't wait for robotic cars!

Attacks from Inanimate Objects

I caught the movement out of the upper right corner of my eye and looked up just in time to see the large, full, heavy binder tumbling off the top shelf of my work desk hutch just before it hit me in the face. It didn't hurt a whole lot, but the corner of the binder left a tiny red scratch beneath my right eye. The malicious book must have hit harder than I thought, though, because it also left a little surprise for two days later--a black eye that is just starting to be visible. Swell!

Heavy

Since my coworker got sick and can no longer take the mail to the post office each day, I've been taking it. Some days the load can get pretty impressive. I usually put it on the seat next to me so I can access it easily at the post office drive-through. So I'm driving to the post office today when a deafeningly loud alarm starts sounding, causing me to jump, stomp on the brakes, and pull over to investigate. Turns out that the mail bin weighed so much that it set off the passenger seat belt warning alarm!

Rorschach Test?

So, a few weeks ago, I got this cool new check scanner at work so I don't have to run to the bank every time I get a check to deposit. I'm scanning this client's check today, and it shows the black-and-white image of the check being submitted to the bank before transmitting the deposit. I glance at the check image on the screen, and for all the world, it looks there's a random bikini top picture hanging out next to the address line! I had to grab the check to see what it was really supposed to be. Sunglasses on a dancing blue M&M character? Oh. Okay.

I must be working too hard. I should be by a pool instead!

 

Musical Mess

Unlike most people, I like to clean. This weekend I was making a lot progress cleaning and scrubbing my way through my house. Things were starting to shine again, and I felt great. I was having so much success that I got a tad overzealous in my dusting efforts. I accidentally knocked a sturdy glass vase into a fragile glass vase that was positioned behind it. I watched in slow-motion horror as my delicate glass vase tipped over and crashed into a porcelain figurine of a cherub sitting next to it. As the glass shattered into a few large, clean chunks, the porcelain cherub lost its wings before it fell six feet off the top of the bookcase to the floor below. One wing shot sideways, but the rest of the hollow porcelain collapsed onto itself in a heap. Then the cracked fragile vase rolled to the edge and followed the cherub, meeting the figurine in a tinkling crunch that ended in painfully tiny shards. My family members came running, of course, to learn what had made the sounds CRASH-CRASH-*pause*-THUMP*pause*-CRASH! At first I thought I'd cry, but as they described what they'd heard then seen, we all began to laugh, and everyone helped clean up the musical mess.

A Short Conversation

Slee-eep in heavenly peace...

"Why are we listening to Christmas music in March?"

"Because it's Josh Groban."

"You're right. That's a perfectly good enough reason."

Invasion of Another Kind

I keep finding medium-sized red-and-black ants on my desk. Man, is it creepy to find wiggly little critters crawling across my shiny new laptop. I can't find the source of their invasion, but I will. Oh yes, I will! And when I do, you can call me The Exterminator! Muhahahahahaha!