June 26, 1999
Temporarily Oozing

"All you do is write about yourself!" ~ Comment from a non-fan of *FootNotes* ~ 

(You're absolutely right. I'm sorry! I should prolly be writing about New Jersey Governor Christine Whitman. Or Lorenzo Lamas. Or Fernando Lamas. Or The *DALI Lamas.* Or Dali Parton. But then I would have to call it "FootNotes: A Cyber Journal All About OTHER PEOPLE" ... wouldn't I?)


One of the sales reps stopped me in the hallway yesterday afternoon, as I was hauling another armload of ancient files down to the storage room. I wasn't thinking about anything in particular, except maybe how pleased I was that it was Friday, and how I hoped to leave early enough to catch a decent bus, and whether or not I still had a viable lemon chiffon yogurt left in the office fridge. I was probably smiling. I might have been humming, even. (I've got that Republica song from the car commercial stuck in my head again ... "Ready to gooooooo." It could be worse, of course: it could be that godawful Hot Chocolate gackage from the Burger King commercials.)
At any rate, Bob the Sales Rep Guy looked at me and said "Wow  ... you seem so much more relaxed today."

And he was right. Compared to the frazzled witchy mess I was a week ago  --  before Franz left for his vacation  --  this week I was that "veritable cork of calm, bobbing in a sea of chaos" that David is always urging me to be. Serenity oozed from my every pore. I floated up and down the hallways, oozing and smiling beatifically and sharing my dried mangos with everyone. I cleaned and organized my office from top to bottom. I cleaned and organized FRANZ'S office from top to bottom. I took the HR Director to lunch, and I brought candy and fruit for the office manager's birthday, and wrote tons of nauseatingly twinkly *thank you* e-mail to everybody. ("Thank you for the new box of Kleenex! Your kindness is sincerely appreciated! I love you!")

Every morning when I got to work, I switched on AOL Instant Messenger so I could i.m. with Christine in the Accounting Department and --  I admit it  --  so I could monitor my sister's progress in TicTac. AIM ran unobtrusively in the background all day, while I went about business as usual. (Even though my AIM connection apparently didn't sit well with a disgruntled -- albeit confused -- new reader, who assumed I was lollygagging on AOL and wrote to chide me. "I have to say I wonder how you have so much time to be online during the day when you just got this BIG promotion and supposedly have so much work to do ... Doesn't seem like someone with all the responsibilities that you have could be online so much during the day? Is your nose growing?" Oh well. At least she's figured out how her Buddy List works.)

When little Connor James finally made his much-anticipated entrance into the world on Wednesday morning, I walked around the entire office proudly announcing that I was an Auntie Secra.  Then I spent my lunch hour on the Internet, trying to pick out the perfect *Welcome Baby!* bouquet.

All in all: it was a really nice week. And yes, I am MUCH calmer and happier, today, than I've been in awhile  ...   ever since I was precariously plunked atop The Totem Pole. And no, I don't mind gloating over the improved frame of mind a little. And no, I don't expect it to last forever. Franz comes back from vacation in July, and who knows? Maybe he'll hate the changes I've made. ("You color-coded my what???") But while it does last, I'm going to enjoy it. I just wish there were a way to save some of this tranquil feeling. It would be extremely handy to have a little stockpile of calm, squirreled away for the next Nightmare Day.



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I haven't seen a photo of my new nephew yet -- hint hint hint -- but the Ex-Hub called last night to report that he'd stopped by to meet the new arrival, the day they were released from the hospital. (Side note: I stopped referring to the Ex-Hub as "The Anti-Husband" a year or so ago. It was about the same time our divorce was finalized and we started liking each other again.)  I asked him what the baby looks like. 

"He's cute, and he's little, but he wasn't DOIN' nothing," reported the E.H. helpfully. Which pretty much sums up his view of babies in general. Apparently I'm going to have to wait another two weeks,  when we fly to TicTac for our Summer Visit (and Mandatory *New Boyfriend Inspection*) to judge for myself.

Unless, of course, a miracle occurs and someone sends me a photo before then ... hint hint hint ...



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Speaking of the upcoming trip to TicTac. Yesterday I received my first 100% Exec Ass paycheck --  the last paycheck I got was half-Receptionist salary, half-E.A., so it doesn't count  -- and while I'm not gonna be running right out and purchasing that ThinkPad 770 any time soon, it was distinctly pleasurable to rip open the little white envelope and see those new, slightly improved numbers. It means that the past four weeks of hell were worth it, for one thing. It means, also, that things like rent and child support and groceries are no longer a matter of eeny, meeny, miney, mo.  ("Do I eat this month? Or take hot showers?") It means, also, that from this point forward I can use this amount as a starting salary anywhere I choose to work. (Unless of course I "choose" to work at Taco Bell.)

It means, also, that I can afford to buy my OWN copy of "Cool and Strange Music Magazine" this month.

And it means that now I've gotta actually go and purchase our airfare to TicTac. Like today. Which is what I'm supposed to be doing right now, instead of dinking around on my website. Except that going to the Travelocity website and researching FLIGHT SCHEDULES feels a little too much like WORK today. 

Go figure.


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Special *hello* and *thanks* to:

Feef ... for the "Vaginas Are Way Cool" T-shirt. David thinks it's adorable, if a little snug. *I* say he prolly shouldn't wear it over his BATHROBE.

Bottlenekk ... for the lovely postcard from Venice. As always, it was worth every cent I had to pay for "postage due."

Shell Pile ... knock 'em dead tonight. Or just knock 'em temporarily unconscious and then steal their lunch money.

Mr. Caves ... for your your epic "Reasons To Hate Flying To Europe" e-mail. ("Next morning. Hung Over. Negotiate with two taxis to drive us to a remote mountain border crossing into Montenegro. If the post is manned by the Montenegran Police we will probably get through. If it's the Yugoslav Army we will probably get arrested.")

Brucie ... for that e-mail you wrote to The Other 50% of The Castle's Population.

Kim of Fresh Hell... for a wonderful e-mail which I ... uhhhhh ... accidentally deleted. (Insert sheepish *I'm Such A Doofus* emoticon here.) Write to me if you read this. Let's start all over again.

New Jersey Governor Christine Whitman: "Oh I dunno. 'FootNotes: A Cyber Journal All About New Jersey Governor Christine Whitman' sorta has a nice ring to it, don'tchoothink?"

Debi and Tim ... don't worry. "Sleep" will be in the lexicon again. Someday. In the meantime, how do you spell relief? "G-R-A-N-D-M-A." :0)

And especially ... Connor James. The world is a better place because you're in it, Pumpkin. See you in two weeks. Save an oopy diaper for your Anti Secra.


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