Yeah... but what does it MEAN?

So, in the wee-small-hours of the morn, I had this bizarre dream. In the dream, I was at the gym and one of the girls invited me to an event -- free overnight stay at an oceanfront hotel just for attending a 10 hour meeting the next day. I asked what the meeting was about and she said it was to become a Curves instructor. I promptly said, "I could do that!"

Not wanting to ignore signals from the Universe, I looked up opportunities at Curves... but really... when is it a "sign" and when is it just a crazy dream?

Things that make ya go, "hmmmmm..."

Last weekend, "A" (I guess I should re-name Mr. Small -- since we are no longer in a name-calling phase of our relationship) and I went out for Sunday Dinner at a local seafood restaurant. He was in a bit of a testy mood -- had been most of the weekend. As we sat there waiting for the copious amounts of food that he had ordered, a couple came in -- accompanied by a younger woman and sat at a table within my range of vision. I looked at the woman and thought that she looked very familiar. Everyone in the restaurant started buzzing around their table and, finally, the owner (or maybe head chef) came and sat down with them. As I stared at her (I hope not too apparently) trying to figure out who the heck she was, all of a sudden it dawned on me... it was my psychic! Well, she's not MINE, but she's the one I saw and about whom I wrote a while back!

The sight of her sent my mind back to her 'predictions' and I started reading back through my journal and my post about her on the blog. One of the things that she said to me was that I should find a house with the view that I want. That's always been a bit of a sticking point with me and "A" because he's a bit anti-social and wants to live out in the middle of nowhere and I want to live in a condo or small cottage by the ocean or on the bay. I thought we had reached an agreement -- that we would find a house with a water view. Well, over the Memorial Day Holiday, "A" got a bit in his cups and started talking about "the next house" he buys... once again, we were back to the "middle of nowhere" discussion. It makes me wonder if he was ever sincere about our compromise. It was not a very reassuring weekend and has me questioning the ground I thought we had gained.

It's That Time of Year

I'm learning something about myself these days. I'm learning that I'm a malcontent. I've been working for my current company for eighteen months... and I'm over it. No, really... I mean it... I'm over it! The working weekends, nights, driving all over hell's half acre to meet with people who don't even bother to show up 40% of the time. I am 100% pure-t OVER IT!!!

But here's the problem... I'm over it every 18 months and have been for these past 25 years. Do you know how long my resume would be if I listed ALL of my jobs? If I were an employer looking at my resume, I wouldn't hire me! LOL

Yep, it's that time of year -- only this year, I think I've run out of "do-overs." Guess I'll just have to figure out a way to be un-over-it. Any suggestions?

I've been away too long...

I promise to do better -- to write more often. Really, I do!

Sand

As I was straightening up this past weekend, I ran across a Journal that I started back in February of 2004 -- when Mr. Small and I were first facing separation. I took a weekend away down in North Carolina and did some writing while I was there. I actually wrote the following short story. I titled it: Sand.

A beautiful sea creature lives and frolics in the ocean deep -- safe within her beautiful shell. Tossed about by the waves, one day she washes up on a beach. Just as she nestles into the warm, soft sand, sea gulls begin to swoop and dive -- pecking at her beautiful shell, until at last it opens and its tender contents are devoured.

The tides rise and fall and, over time, the beautiful shell is worn smooth by the churning ocean waves. Years pass, and the shell continues the cycle: resting on the beach at low tide -- only to be swept once more into the chaotic sea as the tide comes in. This cycle seems to go unnoticed by the world and the shell bears her journey alone.

With each passing year, she becomes smaller and her memory of the beautiful sea creature she once was is but a faded memory. Bleached by the sun and tumbled by the sea, the shell bears no resemblance to her former glory. Even so, she basks in the sun on a bright winter morning.

All of a sudden, a careless traveller treads on her -- shattering her tiny, shimmering frame into a million pieces. The tide tumbles the pieces away and the once beautiful sea creature is reduced to nothing more than just grains of sand.

(c) Oh to be a 40's Torch Singer. All rights reserved.