Thanks "Fred" !

Over the years, I have worked with some truly wonderful people; I'm sure we all have.  This group of people have each contributed of themselves to me, whether they realized it or not; they have shown me how to be patient with others (in the workplace!), how to organize my day and myself, how to work as part of a successful team, been an example of a life well-lived, etc.  You get the picture!

I will be forever grateful to these special people in my life and I thank all of them for how they have helped me grow; both professionally and personally. Many of them don't even know how much they have impacted me. There were those, in my very early working years, that I never stopped to thank personally.  : (  If I knew how to contact them know, I would love to let them know how much I appreciated all that they did for me, taught me, etc.

Please make sure to take a few minutes to let these people in your professional life know exactly how much you appreciate them.  It's always great to hear that something you did had a positive impact on someone else, that what you said really meant something to them, or that they made you stop and think about something in a different way.  Knowing that you positively impacted someone is great validation.  Not everyone needs to be told that they are doing great things, but it's something that deep down, we all like.  It doesn't cost a thing.  It's free, and it's a great way to give someone that little bit of encouragement they may need to get through a really crappy day.

Most recently, there was a man that helped me through some difficult times at my last job.  My manager had insisted that I get a mentor.  I already knew this man; loved his sense of humor, his candor and willingness to share information with me.  These are only a few of the things that I appreciate so much about him.  He knew my manager and he knew how difficult things were for me, and he happily agreed to be my mentor.  Even before I was in the market for a "designated" mentor, he was already mentoring me.  We went to lunch once a month, to our favorite Thai restaurant.  I would tell him what was going on in my hellish corner of the world.  After I spilled my guts, he would always ask me questions.....questions to get me thinking about my situation from all angles.  "What if......?"   "Why do you think.....?"  "Have you tried....?"   He often raised very valid points that I had not thought of.  I was running on pure, unbridled emotion, and he always managed to get me to buckle my seat belt and settle down! 

This man has a high profile and demanding job; however, he always made time for me.  I was able to say exactly what was on my mind, using the exact, unprofessional language that I so wanted to use.  He never judged or thought less of me. (If he did, he was kind enough to not let me see it!)

I always felt better after our lunches or brief chats at my desk.  I don't know if he ever felt any better about his "stuff" afterward.....but I sure did!  It was so incredibly awesome to have another person that I felt 100% safe with and could let my real thoughts and words escape.  There was the usual "open door policy" with managers, HR, my peers.....but that was just pretend.  No one else really wanted to hear exactly how anyone felt, or what they really wanted to say or do.  It was a farce. Except for this one person.

So, today is the day that I thank "Fred" for all that he did for me. You are truly one of a kind!  On those days when I wanted to stick a pen in my eye, or fall on a pair of scissors, I really appreciate you talking me down! (Or up, actually!)  You have been an inspiration to me and you are someone that I will think of often.

Love,
Summer



Patent Pending

So, I think I'm sick.  I'm not 100% certain of this, because it seems to come and go. It started about a week and a half ago, on a Monday night. I was at Target and I started sneezing up a storm, which is very unusual for me.  Then my nose started running.  Handy that I was at Target, right?!  Usually, I get sick and I've just gone to the store the day before and don't have any of the things I need to get over whatever illness I have contracted.  On my way to check out, I stop in the "cold" aisle and look at the drugs on hand and check out the one that's supposed to stop a cold in its tracks if you take it soon enough.  I pick it up, ponder, then put it back down. "No, it's not a cold, I'm sure.  Some funky thing in the air here is just irritating my nose.", I tell myself.  So, I leave the store without it.

Fast forward to today, 10 days later.  This is the damnedest sickness!  I can go a day or two without sneezing, then I spend an entire day doing it.  My throat is sore one day, but not the next.  My nose is running like a fat kid for the last box of Ding Dongs on the grocery store shelf. 

Today, I'm tired of the mucus. "MAKE IT STOP!"  

Every time I get a cold, I think about mucus. Surely, there must be a way to put it to good use; maybe even make money off of it.  It's got to be the most renewable resource this world has and it's environmentally safe.  It doesn't produce thick black clouds that pollute our lungs and surely no wars will be started over it. Talk about the ultimate re purposing project!  So, here it is, my first list of ways to reuse mucus; and don't even think about stealing any of these to make your own millions - I've already submitted the paperwork to get them all patented!

1. Glue: Face it, what mother in the world hasn't found dried mucus (boogers) stuck to their child's bedroom wall? (Or any other wall in the house!)  Once it's there, you practically need a putty knife or chisel to get it off.  This shit will keep anything in place once it's dry.  Unlike Super Glue, if you get a little on your hands, you can just wash it off.  So, the next time your kid needs to build a project with Popsicle sticks, don't waste your money on Elmer's Glue. Just dab the ends of each stick in your kid's runny nose and you're good to go.  The Popsicle stick project will last longer than a styrofoam cup in a landfill. (Kids can't get high sniffing this "glue"!)
2. Breast implants: Since mucus is a fluid produced by our bodies, for our bodies, this is a perfect idea!  Silicone implants that burst can cause a myriad of problems inside the body. But mucus?  No big deal. Worst case scenario, you have a runny boob instead of a runny nose. That's so much more convenient to deal with anyway.  Just slip a kleenex into your bra cup and again, you're good to go.
3. Picture hangers: There are a lot of people in the world that hate to put nail holes in their walls. (I don't understand this, but that's their problem, not mine!) Easy solution, grab a booger or two, place them on the top two corners of whatever you're hanging, press to the wall, and shazaam!  For heavier hangings, you may need to dab a booger on each corner and also evenly spaced around the perimeter, on the back of the frame.
4. Textured ceilings: Seriously, if you blew a couple dozen gallons of mucus onto your ceiling, you'd probably get the same effect as with that expensive stuff.  Once dry, you can paint it any color you want.  No one will know that you used a "green"  product unless you decide to tell them!  Going "green" is the big thing these days, you know?! (This could easily be done for textured walls as well.  Mucus to imitate the venetian plaster look, and boogers to imitate that "sand in the paint" look that was popular in the 60's.)

My patents won't be completed for 60-90 days, so for now, I'm outta here to go blow my nose into a jar, so that I can get a head start on production.

You had cancer? So what?!

Seven years ago, I heard those words that no one ever wants to hear. "You have cancer." Flanked by my mother and good friend, I went out into the hallway of the medical building and found a secluded corner near the elevator. Then I cried. It was the loud and ugly cry that we never want others to see. I remember sobbing and saying "I don't want to die.". My mother hugged me, as she had always done when I was upset about something; but this time, it meant so much more to me. I hugged her back, as hard as I possibly could and I wanted that hug to last forever. If that hug never ended, maybe I wouldn't have to face any of the ugliness that was about to smash into me, head on. I remember looking at my friend, through my tears, and she was standing back from my mother and I, tears rolling down her cheeks as well, just letting my mother and I have our moment.

Over the course of the the next 9 months, I endured a lumpectomy, a mastectomy and then chemo. I think I breezed through it all with far fewer side effects than most others and for that I am extremely grateful. Like most all chemo party-goers, I lost all my hair. ALL my hair! Not just the hair on my head, but also the hair in my nose, my eyebrows, my eyelashes, and, well, uhmm.....also the hair down there. I lost my sense of taste. Very few foods had any taste whatsoever, and for some reason, the textures of some foods even seemed to change. Water for example - it seemed to have thickened somewhat and was almost slimy and tasted very nasty. I could only drink Diet Coke or overly sweetened iced tea. There was no point in eating things that weren't the texture they were supposed to be and and even if I did eat them, they tasted horrible. I survived on Black Forest Cheesecake in plastic tubs from Wal Mart. That was about the only thing that seemed to taste the way that it should and the texture was normal.

During my second course of chemo, sleep became a distant memory.  For days after my treatment, I could not sleep for more than a couple of hours and never before 4 AM.  I would stay up all night long and clean, read, do laundry, etc.  All the while, I would long to be asleep in my bed, but my body would not cooperate.  I did have the cleanest house ever and my laundry was all caught up, but I would have traded it in a heartbeat for 8 hours of sleep.

Having cancer sucked. Even though I'm now a 7 year survivor, it still sucks. It sucks because it will always be there in the back of my mind.  Every time I don't feel well, I think "Is it back?".  For several weeks before my annual mammogram, I wonder "Is it back?"  Every time I get an ache or hurt somewhere, I think "Has it moved to a new part of my body?".   Yes, having cancer is a forever thing, even if they get it all out of you and tell you that you're good to go.

I never asked "Why me?" or felt that God had let me down. Never.  I'm not sure why, but I never did.  Perhaps I really do live by the mantra that there is no point worrying about things if I have no control over them.  This always made my ex-husband angry. (And that secretly delighted me!) Something would happen that would totally piss him off and get him going, and there I'd be, calm as a cucumber! My calmness in the face of his perceived crisis made him even more upset every time!

Why am I telling you all this?  Not to make you feel sorry for me or tell me how brave I was.  I'm telling you this because I HATE it when I see people taking advantage of situations or others because they've had cancer.  Yes, I have compassion for those who have fought this battle.  Been there, done that, and have LOTS of t-shirts!  BUT.....I'm so tired of observing others using this cancer card as a way to benefit themselves.  When I worked for the famous cotton, quilted handbag company, we would receive countless letters/emails from people who have had horrible illnesses, or their mother/sister/ niece, best friend or aunt's sister's neighbor's mother has had cancer.  They all wrote to ask us to please send them a free purse because the person they know has been through so much.  Really, a free purse is going to make this person feel so much better about what they have been through?  A free purse is the perfect "badge of honor" for having lived through such a horrible ordeal? 

This ALWAYS made me angry and it still does, whenever I see someone using the cancer card as a way to get something for free.  While at the cotton, quilted handbag place, I once had a supervisor/director offer me comp time because I had worked some pretty long hours recently.  Now, I was a salaried employee and wasn't expecting comp time for the extra hours I had put in, nor was it the company's standard operating procedure to offer it. I thanked her for the offer and declined.  Then, I asked her why she had offered it to me and she said that she knew I was a cancer survivor and that rest was probably very important for me.  Mixed feelings welled up inside of me.  I thought it was so kind of her to make the offer, but I was also plain mad that she would make that offer to me only because I was a cancer survivor.  I wanted any offers to be made because I earned them, deserved them and because anyone else would have received the offer as well.  I didn't want to start down the road of accepting special treatment because of something that I went through years before.  I never took comp time that was offered for that reason, even though I would have loved some extra time off!  When comp time was offered across the board for all of us, due to whatever projects and extra time worked, I took it and relished it, just like everyone else did.  Because I earned it.

Cancer sucks and it always will.  But I will NEVER use it to get something for free or get special treatment.  The ONLY badge of honor I want after cancer is the badge of being a good person, living a good life and doing for others. I make myself available to others embarking on the breast cancer journey, offering my stories and advice when solicited.  I give of myself and my time more freely. My badge of honor isn't the stuff I got because others felt sorry for me......it's feeling good about the life I lead, knowing that I have helped others when they needed it, that everyone in my life knows that I love them and would do anything for them. My badge of honor is MY LIFE!

The Stepford wives are alive and living in Fort Wayne!

 I used to work for a company in Indiana that makes and sells quilted cotton handbags. Yep, that one!  I worked there for almost 6 years. When I sent my resume and flowery cover letter to them, I had no real confidence that they would call me for an interview, much less hire me; I was merely fulfilling my weekly obligation to the state. At that time, I had been out of work for about 3 months and had reached the point of looking through the Yellow Pages for places to work.  "Oh, I love to rearrange my furniture and buy new knick knacks.....I'll apply to this interior design company, even though I have no formal training!"  I would look through the book page by page and put little sticky flags on the pages whenI found places where it might be fun to work.  I sent my resume to multiple interior design companies, the quilted bag place and several others.

Long story short, I was hired by the quilted bag place and began my new job the first week of January, after a fabulous trip to Florida for Christmas, with my family.  I was beyond thrilled that I was going to be working for this famous company.  Surely my days would be filled with sweetness, fun, rainbows and unicorns!  I felt as though I had found the pot of gold at the end of my rainbow.

As I said, I started in January, so there were still Christmas presents rolling in for our department. Gifts came from our retailers, Sales Consultants, as well as from other internal departments.  Every day, something new was coming in.  Dish towels from Mr. Tablecovering (Name changed!), chocolates from Topay's (Name changed!), catered lunch from the Eastern area Sales Consultants and chair massages from the internal Sales Department.  For the first week I was there, I would call my mother every night to say "You'll never guess what happened today!" and then I would tell her what fabulous goodies came our way that day.  Everyone that I worked with was so nice, and they were all so patient and kind while training me.  No one ever said anything bad or off color....ever.  I would tell my mom that these ladies wouldn't say shit if they had a mouth full of it!  I had previously spent 16 years working at the corporate office of North American Van Lines and was definitely not used to such a thing!  Now, I had been known to swear a little at NAVL and slam a phone down now and then.  It was accepted and standard operating practice in that environment.  During my early months at the quilted handbag place, I decided that I should say as little as possible, so that nothing would slip out and permanently burn any delicate eardrums or irreparably scar anyone in any way.

I had never before worked at a place where microwave popcorn is poured into a large plastic bowl lined with a flowered, cotton napkin.....always, where plastic pitchers of water must also be adorned with a flowery, cotton napkin.....always.  The bathrooms were amazingly decorated and looked just like some executives offices, with the exception of a sink and toilet out in the open. Some even had a nice little table that you could probably pull up and use as a desk, if you needed to be seated for a while and wanted to get some work done!  They were wallpapered, with coordinating wool rugs and upholstered chairs and lamps.  Yes, I said lamps!  These bathrooms were decorated better than my living room. However, this should have been my first clue. Even though they look nice, there's still always some shit in the bathroom!!!

Sure, there were 1 or 2 reps that held the universal workplace title as Her Royal Bitchiness.  After all, every work place has at least 1 and most often they run in packs.  Sort of like wolves!  It took a while for me to figure out their identities, since everyone projected such a sticky sweet exterior that even the flies couldn't tell if they were circling shit or honey.

Now, anyone who knows me will tell you that I'm not THAT kind of person; the kind that fakes enthusiasm, pretends to like people and then not only stabs them in the back with a colorful, flowery pen (That matches their cotton quilted handbag!), but then uses the pen to write them a nice note for their birthday. (On colorful, flowery stationery which also matches their handbag!)  It became a race to see how long I could hold out and hold my tongue in check.

Yes, it was turning into a very unusual situation. In fact, on more than one occasion, I described it to outsiders as The Stepford Wives....taking place in the colorful city of Sneera Badly!  (Get it?!! LOL)Believe it or not, not everything in the city of Sneera Badly is as nice as it seems from outside the city limits. I tell you these things not to burst your bubble or disillusion you; I tell you these things because I feel they need to be said (written) out loud....because I can't stand holding them in any longer.  I have many stories to tell you about this place, Sneera Badly. Instead of finding the pot of gold at the end of my rainbow, I found something very different. Don't get me wrong, the perks are good, no question about it; and the pay is good as well. But for me, those things just weren't enough to make up for all of the not-so-nice stuff that was happening inside those pretty, flowery walls. Nowhere close! 

And away we go.....

This feels good! Finally, a place to "verbalize" all of the things I want to say, but probably shouldn't!  At this point, it's just about getting things out of my head, and not about who or how many want to read them. (Sorry, it's all about me!)  Actually, I'm not sorry that it's all about me.....that's what this is supposed to be about....ME!

No one ever really wants to admit that "it's" all about them; people might be offended or think that we mean it in a really conceited way.  But in reality, we should make it our priority for "it" to be all about US! Why live our lives for others? That's giving ourselves and our lives to other people when our lives should be our own. I don't mean that we shouldn't make others a priority in our lives and do for others. What I mean is, that we should do for others and make them a priority in our lives IF WE WANT TO, not because we feel obligated. I have spent the last 20 years of my life making the priorities of others my own. I tried to load the dishwasher like my ex-husband thought I should and fold his socks the way he wanted. I did things for friends that I really didn't want to do because I felt they were taking advantage of our friendship.  I compromised my work ethic to fit into a ridiculously hypocritical and blatantly "political" company. (Not everything trimmed in gold is treasure!) There are more examples, but I think you get the point.

Folding socks and loading the dishwasher a certain way are NOT priorities in my book, and anyone who enters a relationship with me at some future time must know this now!

So, from here on out, "it" is all about ME! I plan to spend my time doing the things I truly love and being with those that I truly love. I will continue to do for others, but will do so now because I want to, not out of guilt.  When I choose my next job, I will make darn sure that I scratch the gold to make sure it's solid and not just plated.

Now get out there and go do (or not do!) something for yourself, because you want to (or don't want to!).  I'm going to make another cup of coffee and go smoke....because I want to.

P.S.  It's 3:58 PM on Wednesday and I am still in my pj's....because I want to be!