Daily work (by Astrology.com)
It's going to be one of those days! Work today is going to be tough, even aggravating. But hang in there, and you'll be rewarded in the evening hours. If you don't have plans after work, make some.
Okay, I guess I'll clean the cat boxes and get on the elliptical trainer while watching Keith Olbermann.
Lately my horoscope has been eerily accurate.
I did have a lovely long, cellphone-battery-draining discussion with my son, and I'm still thinking of moving to Asheville or that area. I have not dismissed the idea entirely, I still want to do it. Quarterly reviews are nigh, and I am not shy about telling El Jefe my thoughts. I came this close to quitting today, over egregious stupidity and throwing our department and me personally under the bus. I don't take that shit lying down, trust me, I took it to the top. I am fine, thank you. The ones who tried to push me under the bus, they may not be feeling so good.
But dammit, I am tired. I have had a hell of a five years. Every time I see some twit in Iowa citing "911" as a reason for her fragile emotional state, I don't know whether to laugh or cry. In the past 5 years I, in no particular order:
Spent 2 years as the sole caregiver to my mostly bedridden dying husband of 24 years.
Planned his funeral with a funeral director who thought I was talking about my father.
Got called at 4 a.m. to sit by his side while he died.
Changed jobs twice after he died.
Job One sucked. It shoulda, coulda been good, but the Big Corporation sucked, so the job sucked.
Job Two is far better financially, but also far more responsibility. And it's the insanity of developer world.
Sat out hits from three hurricanes alone in 2004.
Fought with my homeowners' insurance for months and negotiated the price of a new roof. (see above)
Remodeled the kitchen.
Ran back and forth across the state countless times because my father was dying for the last two years.
Made the final run to his bedside last June.
Made funeral arrangements again.
Since then, have been slogging across the state to deal with my highstrung and needy mother, while working 50-60 hours a week in a job that bears absolutely no resemblance to the job I was hired to do.
Any one of those things is enough to cause stress and health problems and all that crap. I did ALL of them.
I'm tired. I'm just ready to find a slower pace and do something different, but I also don't want to be bagging groceries in my golden years.
Yeah, I could look for, and probably find, a husband to "take care of" me, but damn, I'm so picky and snotty and after having done all of the above, I am not about to tolerate somebody who is not as smart and tough and capable as I am "taking care of" me. I am ten feet tall and bulletproof. I am fearless. I don't take to being taken care of. I would love to find a man who can put up with me, but I will not compromise all I have done for myself to put up with him, so he better not be some sorry-ass loser looking for a wife to take care of him. Which pretty much shoots down the dating market I've seen so far. Unless you are Indiana Jones (or Harrison Ford - come on dude, Calista is too young for you) I am out of your league. And in Florida, we have far more K-Feds on Viagra than Indiana Jones-es.
I'm ready to get out of Florida. I just need to figure out the escape plan.