The Subtle Art of Avoidance

For the most part, this little four day weekend mini-vacation has been rather successful. No calls from work (so far), weather that has finally turned pleasant, and near completion of a project.

There were a couple of project to choose from, but a gentle nudge from David moved me in the direction of painting my bathroom. OK, so I started it two years ago… and your point is? Since I am getting tired of looking at the paint cans (for two years) and having no towel bar… OK, I see his point. David’s bathroom was painted shortly after we moved in. At the time, I was not yet working and it was just a couple of months after having a heart attack. The difference this time is amazing. What took a couple of weeks two years ago, has taken me three days… so far. Two primer coats to cover the Oh-my-God-is-it-still-the-sixties-orange, and application of a nice caramel colored semi gloss have been completed. That would have been it had I not chosen the “fancy Earth Elements signature series” that requires one more coat. The thought of going all around the nooks and crannies of that bloody bathroom again is about as painful as my muscles from the required squatting, stretching, and general twisting necessary to paint the most difficult room in the house.

I am one of those strange people who actually enjoys painting – I find it therapeutic. Normally, I even enjoy the smell of paint… normally. This is the worst smelling paint I have come across – ever. It has a strong odor of ammonia that gets in the nose and won’t go away. In the air-conditioned jungle humidity of South Florida, you don’t even have the option of opening the windows… until last night. Looking at the forecast, we decided to close the bathroom door to avoid any humidity and open the windows to get that God awful smell out. Blissfully, the temperature went down to 69 degrees for the first time since… I don’t remember when. Today is clear, dry, and tonight it is supposed to get down to the low 60’s! Oh joy, oh rapture, oh bliss, can it be true??? It is even supposed to be so dry that – get this – we have a severe weather alert for low humidity. Anything less than 45% humidity is considered a fire hazard. I can hear you people in the southwest laughing, but it is true – only in Florida…

So why am I rambling about all of this? It is called AVOIDING. The thought of straining my sore muscles, going around the same room one more time (hopefully) and unleashing that God-awful odor has me thinking twice about continuing the project. I know, I know, just one more coat…

Did I mention it is a beautiful day and I have one more day that I don’t have to go to work?

Stress Release

If you watched the video, you will understand why I am off from work. Tension can only build up to a point where you have to let off some steam. I don’t think it was an overreaction, do you?

Fortunately, there are those who understand my distress. When I sent my “out of office” email auto response to my web guy (AKA my friend Tom, AKA designer of the Mr. Bitch t-shirt, AKA look at the link to the right of the blog that says “Tom”), I received this revised version:

I will be out of the office until Tuesday, October 28. I don't care if you need anything from now until then. Figure it out for yourself. THEY CALL THIS BEING PROACTIVE - do YOU know what PROACTIVE IS??? or are you still on B in the dictionary?

If it is ABSOLUTELY an emergency call 911 or 411 or - whoever the hell else you want to call but DONT CALL ME because I simply don't give a shit.

Good luck - hope not to see you again.
Mr. Bitch

Clearly, I have expressed my feelings about my work associates directly and accurately. But you probably ascertained that from the video.

So with that, I bid you all a happy and stress-free weekend.

Fundbeggar Event #7

… but who’s counting…

I feel I have been run over by a steamroller. Every muscle in my body is aching as if I have the flu – but I don’t. I feel like I have a hangover – without the benefit of alcohol. What would cause this malaise? Welcome to the world of the Fundraising Event.

Our little non-profit does a couple of these a year and I hate them. I don’t think I expressed that strongly enough. I HATE THEM… even that doesn’t express it, but you get the picture.

If I didn’t give a crap, these events would be easy. I would let the person who is supposed to handle this (ie – this is not my job) go down in flames through their own destructively nonchalant approach. But the mission of a cancer care support organization that is free to its members is too important to let the organization fail. So I ask the “did you do this,” “how is this being handled,” “what is the process” questions as my boss is getting nauseous about what is left to the last minute – or completely forgotten.

This is where my hospitality experience kicks in. No matter what – at all cost, an event should look effortless and seamless – Especially when people are paying $150 a ticket in this economy. Fortunately, we pulled one off again, but at the cost of frazzled nerves and MY sore muscles (not to mention money). When you spend an entire day preparing, and then hold the event while unconsciously tensing your muscles until 12:30 am… ouch. I’m getting too old for this crap.

One very good but somewhat surreal aspect of the evening was having David there. Since he left the organization last year, I have slowly and eerily taken over the exact role he had – right hand and confidant to the CEO (different CEO) and the person who holds it all together and makes sure it all gets done properly. It was equally surreal for him, returning to the place he continues to have a great passion for but was unceremoniously removed from. I can’t imagine how it must have felt for him, but I give him great credit for attending and making polite conversation with the people who were responsible for him losing a job he loved – through no fault of his or lack of competence, quite the opposite – his great skill and value to the organization continues to be irreplaceable… chalk it up to political bullshit. In spite of all this, David’s presence last night was the brightest spot of the evening for me.

So tomorrow I count the money and Tuesday I report to the board of directors on how much of a financial success or disappointment the event was. If it was not a financial success (and I seriously doubt it was), I have the option of political suicide by throwing the (recently former) board chair’s wife under the bus for all of the ways she undermined the event financially (long story). Or I could just give them the numbers and let them figure it out. I’m going with plan B unless pressed…

So, in summery… I’m tired, I’m sore, I’m cranky, and I get to try and clean up the financial mess in a bad economy. Sucks to be me… but it could be worse – I could be having my own financial meltdown with the growing ranks of the unemployed down here. There… I ended on a positive note. See… I’m smiling. OK, enough smiling; those muscles hurt too.

Transformation

Somewhere in the warm mists of time
I lost my way
I found my way
With strange purpose and by design…

And I don’t know where to find me

A stranger wakes with me each day
The mirror lies
The stranger dies
And with a price that can’t be paid

I head out cold in spite of me

Can you hear it
When your name is whispered softly
Or do you turn a deafened ear?
Can you bear it?

Can you see it
When it’s laid down right before you
Or do you close a blinded eye?
Can you bare it?

Somehow in the harsh light of day
I lost old time
I found new time
With precision and disarray

I reach out but can not touch me

Intentions fade and slowly grey
The mirror sighs
The stranger lies
To live and die another day…

And I speak yet can’t define me

Bless the Space Between Us

A Blessing for One Who is Exhausted


by John O'Donohue - (1954 - 2008)

When the rhythm of the heart becomes hectic,

Time takes on the strain until it breaks;

Then all the unattended stress falls in

On the mind like an endless, increasing weight,

The light in the mind becomes dim.

Things you could take in your stride before

Now become laborsome events of will.

Weariness invades your spirit.

Gravity begins falling inside you,

Dragging down every bone.

The ride you never valued has gone out.

And you are marooned on unsure ground.

Something within you has closed down;

And you cannot push yourself back to life.

You have been forced to enter empty time.

The desire that drove you has relinquished.

There is nothing else to do now but rest

And patiently learn to receive the self

You have forsaken for the race of days.

At first your thinking will darken

And sadness take over like listless weather.

The flow of unwept tears will frighten you.

You have traveled too fast over false ground;

Now your soul has come to take you back.

Take refuge in your senses, open up

To all the small miracles you rushed through.

Become inclined to watch the way of rain

When it falls slow and free.

Imitate the habit of twilight,

Taking time to open the well of color

That fostered the brightness of day.

Draw alongside the silence of stone

Until its calmness can claim you.

Be excessively gentle with yourself.

Stay clear of those vexed in spirit.

Learn to linger around someone of ease

Who feels they have all the time in the world.

Gradually, you will return to yourself,

Having learned a new respect for your heart

And the joy that dwells far within slow time.