Day To Day Crap


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After a long week, cuddle time is essential. She was resting against my chest while I rocked her, when I took this.

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I believe selling to be about meeting your needs and not my goals. As such, I’m always looking for better ways to meet your needs.

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While my classes are online making every day a potential school day, Wednesday seems to be the week day I get the most done.

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Bank drive thru from the inside.

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Flip flops off, work shoes on. This is my stash kept at work. I can drive in the flats so I wear them in.

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I feel like instead of a blog post I should make a proper list of all the things I need to get done.

As I sit here typing this on my phone, no less than 3 hours after it was due to drop, we’ll make item 1 on that list:

Write some blog posts to schedule to drop. I always write ahead. I can rearrange if something comes up that is time sensitive.

Fill out Luke’s application to school next year. Not technically due yet but on my desk and needs done eventually. Don’t want to last minute it.

School work. Not that I would forget, but if I’m making a to-do list school will forever be on the list now.

Speaking of school, group meeting Friday! Forgetting would be bad since I run the damn thing.  I don’t mean it when I say “damn thing” just fyi.

Work event Saturday after work. Need to be sure to remember. We are sponsoring, so I’ll be out talking to people.

I didn’t get my laundry done last weekend so I need to catch up this weekend.

Start a new book with Lucas.

Finish my current book. It is so boring though. Important, but boring.

Evaluate my financial goal plan. Make sure I’m on task. Something is due soon. I think it is the refinance of the car. Must be sure!

Take a look at the passport process. Fill out the application. Does it require money? Probably.

Postpone the passport process awhile longer due to lack of funds.

Try and find time to sleep. Haha! Good one!

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None of these are long enough for a separate blog post all their own, so they are having a lesson in sharing.

Speaking of sharing, my boys share a room.  And almost every morning they wake up ready to brawl, waking the rest of us with the sound of their fighting.  I say “almost” because once a week they wake up in separate homes.  One with my mom, the other here.  So I’ve decided to take a creative approach.  Mind you, I think so far out of the box that my box doesn’t even exist.  What the hell is a box?  This box you speak of, does it hold candy?  Only then am I interested.  Or, maybe if it were a box of puppies.  I digress.  So I’ve decided that from now on, every morning that they wake up and immediately start fighting, that night they have to share a bed.  My husband finds this twisted.  I argue the horrors of sharing a twin bed might shock them into getting along.  Oh, and we’ll go top bunk since it is much harder to fall out of when your brother tries to shove you to your own side.

Hey!  Speaking of falling out of the top bunk:

The NASA technology is gone, now there is just a brace in its place for the next 1-2 weeks.  But only when he plays.  It’s still healing but he needs to be able to let it move when he isn’t being rough and tumble.

On a different note, Guess who is getting a perfect 100% in the first college class she’s taken in over 5 years?  That’s right, this bitch!  It started easy but once you see it possible, you keep it possible.  If you tell yourself you’ll settle for a pass, you’ll only pass.  When you tell yourself you are an A student and you will pull in A’s you get A’s.  I’m telling myself I am capable of perfection. (I’ll settle for A’s.  What do you think I am, crazy?  Yeah, don’t answer that.)

My husband told me he broke the hair clippers, basically meaning I can’t shave my hair off anymore.  And that’s how I got blood stains on my hands.  Then he told me he fixed them so I brought him back.  Slightly zombified.  Slightly.  Or, it’s possible he only seems like a zombie because he threw out his back?  This paragraph has no real purpose other than OMG I finally can get rid of this hair that is way too long.  I spent a week thinking I could maybe grow out my hair.  HAHAHAHAHAHA.  No.  It’s touching me. (I’m not crazy, I’m eccentric.)

Any job letter of reference that starts out

Jane Doe can rappel down skyscrapers with a single bound.  More importantly, you can trust Jane’s set-up so that you too can rappel down skyscrapers, in a single bound of trust that she can get you safely to the bottom.

is a winner.  You want me to write you a letter of reference.  I’m qualified.

I’m a touch slap happy.  We just survived the 1st of the month in banking with an entire 7 employees for the entire branch.   We’ve been known to consider ourselves short on the 1st with a full 12 employees.  Tired doesn’t cover it.  But I’m flying high because I took on a role of leadership over something we were trying to logic out.  I presented the plan, ran it, and it worked like I knew it would.  Flying.  High.

Hey, speaking of leadership.  I would have had a chance to get a promotion that I turned down.  Again, not crazy.  First, starting school and being promoted within weeks of each other does not lead to perfect scores in school.  Oh, I’d still pass, but at what cost?  Sanity is a fragile thing.  And that box is currently upside down as it is, as “this side up” points to the floor.  Oh hey!  There’s my box!

But also, this promotion had I been given it, would have taken me from my branch.  It isn’t like I won’t ever leave my branch, but we are days away from being down to 2 tellers.  One of which, not me, is pregnant due to pop in less than 2 months.  Full line, FYI, is 6-7.  Me leaving before we hire at least 3 more would cripple the branch.  And I can’t do that to my team.  I can’t.  If I had absolutely nothing left to learn from them, it would maybe be different.  Hell, my boss would push me out the door.  She’d rather that than hold me back.  But I still learn something new there daily.  Plus, we have a new teller supervisor(!!!!!!) starting next week.  I am so excited to work with her.  She will be amazing for our line, branch, team.  She use to be a trainer.  She trained all of our personal bankers in fact.  Moral is high just thinking about her joining our team.  It’s her job I’d be taking at the other branch.  It’s a position I’m after in general.  But I’m excited to learn from her first, and then move on.

Finally, and the boss lady only told me about this after I decided not to apply, the other branch is so slow.  I mean so very, very slow.  There isn’t even anything to clean or organize.  I’d last about 2 weeks before they’d have to lock me away because I tried to put the ceiling tiles in proper order based on how many dots or bumps or specks of dust they have.  Hint: it’s so clean there is no dust.

But what matters is that the boss lady told me about the position because she thought I’d be perfect for it, and confessed she got depressed at the idea of losing me.  And not just because I’m a warm body running a window.  And when she told the other manager to expect my application, and then told me I should email the other manager if I wasn’t going to apply after all, the other manager actually put up some fight.  I don’t know what boss lady told her, but my heart if full of warm and fuzzies.  Perhaps my ego too.

Perhaps my ego needs those warm and fuzzies.

Perhaps my boys will be grateful they have adequate jammies as they spend a few night crammed into a twin sized bed, learning how not to fight.

Perhaps I can pull a perfect 100% in every class straight through my bachelor’s and my MBA.

Perhaps you too can rappel down skyscrapers in a single leap of faith in Jane’s rope work.

Perhaps her name isn’t really Jane Doe.

Perhaps I am even more eccentric than you anticipated.

Perhaps.

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