I'M POOPIN.... False alarm.

I'm not crying anymore.

God's given me peace that I made the right decision. Granted, I still want to leave my job. And now it's even worse because I had that out, it just wasn't the right out. Didn't stop me from applying from one of our biggest competitors. It'd matter more if I was one of those positions they're trying to steal away. But there was something just a little satisfying about that.

I found the best thing in the world to make me smile.

Right here.

No joke. Everytime I look at it, I can't help but belly laugh. It's so utterly ridiculous. There. I was just thinking about it and I couldn't stop laughing.

Labels of all things funny will now be labeled "I'M POOPIN."

That's all.

Sometimes I hate my life...

I did it.

I sent an email this morning to Laura telling her I can't pursue the position I had been. I can't take a nearly $3 pay cut (due to my merit increase in June) for only 20% off tuition. I told her I'm interested in the Admin Assistant position. I think I could do it. Once I was comfortable enough and the knowledge of a boss who'll support me if I stick my neck out on the line, I could really flourish and grow.

I wish I did it with a happy heart. I want to throw away the almost 14 lbs I lost to eat a tub of Ben and Jerry's and cry myself ot sleep.

The worst part is, I had the HR position in the bag. They knew, I knew it, but they knew it didn't have the benefits I needed to justify taking such a huge pay cut. It hurt my heart. I liked them so much. But I need to think about our future. That more money in the bank means and better quality house in the future, vacations to enjoy that we otherwise couldn't, and better means to fall back on for retirement.

But, as always, my head and my heart just duke out and leave me teary-eyed.

I need prayers. For what, I'm really not sure.

Crap!

Crap! Crap! Crap! Crap! Crap!

So, I've had a job interview, then I had a second interview. I thought it went well. I got along with the interviewers, it seemed really nice. Then they asked me this question:

Would you like to be considered for other positions if this does not work out?

I thought they mean the HR job they might have open in the not-so-distant future.

I told them I was interested in HR related jobs. They looked at each other an explained what they ment.

They ment the Admin Assistant for the CFO. $10,000 more a year, minimum. And tuition assistance 100% right away. Salaried, so I'd never have sick time. If I didn't show up because I was sick, I still get paid for the entire day. A job they told me that my degree would be more valuable to.

So here I am. In turmoil. Again. Because God's opening too many stupid doors. I told them that I would be interested if they decide the HR job isn't for me.

But I don't know. I need HR experience. But more money and a free MBA. And I'd be out of my current company. So right now, my life is at a standstill waiting on three paths:

1. Stay at my current job. Miserable and continually looking for another opportunity.
2. Get the HR job. Further my HR career, for less money, and a little bit of tuition assistance.
3. Get the CFO's Admin Assistant. Put HR on hold. Get a free MBA, get more money, and start my free MBA right away.

Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap.....

I wish Sean would get home. I'm bursting to talk to him

My life is going well...really.

My life has made an upward swing.

Not that it was going down. But, the beginning of this year had a lot of growing pains.

First of all, I started living with a man. Men see things in a way that is so different from women. Not just on emotional issues, but those are included, what I’m talking about is physical.

Men do not see dirt.

It is in their genetics that crumbs on the floor or the couch are just not there. A dirty dish on the coffee table? What do you mean? Where is it? A pile of Reese’s peanut butter cups wrappers and dirty tissues on top of the remote control – non-existent in the eyes of men.

And, when I mention it, it does get better. For about 48 hours. And then we get back to the normal grind. I don’t want to seem like a nag, and Sean gets guilt-ridden too easily for me to bug him about things often, that I just pick them up with everything else when I bring my dirty dishes to the sink and my garbage to the trashcan.

Another battle is taking out the trash.

In my house, my father took out the trash for most of my life. Or at least every Sunday night he’d drag the cans out front. I’m not really sure if my mom or my dad was the one who actually picked up the trash out of our home and put it in the garbage cans at the side of my house, but regardless, Sunday night I always heard my dad dragging them along the stone and brick path to the curb.

So, I bestowed this duty upon my husband. He’s a guy. Guys don’t mind things being dirty and smelly. So his one household duty is to take out the garbage.

What I did not realize is, men don’t see a full trashcan the way women do.

Our trashcan in the kitchen is the one that gets full the easiest and most-often. Somehow, the garbage that is produced from making one meal turns into twice the size of the meal itself. And the fact that it’s easier to buy pre-package, portionally-correct foods due to Weight Watchers also produces more garbage than grilling a chicken breast and nuking a baked potato for dinner or gorging yourself on a family sized bag of Cheetos until your tummy aches.

When I can no longer swing our garbage can lid back and forth, I assume that the trashcan is full. Usually I leave it for my husband to pick it up and change it after he’s put some of his trash in it and then take it outside. No, it means you take off the lid, put it halfway on the washer (where I clean our clothes! Icccckkk!), and continue to piling the trash there. So once the piling starts overflowing, I now know it’s time for it to go out. As a hint that the trash can is starting to become a mountain, I generally ask him to throw away a heft pile of things while I act busy doing something for us. When he starts walking into the kitchen I just know that he’ll come back with a full garbage bag. Instead, he’ll notice that the trashcan is overflowing, so he brings it to our half-empty bedroom trashcan.

I know he loathes it. Most people don’t enjoy taking about the garbage, but I vacuum, do laundry, windex, and wipe down all of our countertops, so taking out the garbage and occasionally mopping the floors is not such a big sacrifice.

Then of course, there’s that whole sharing a bed thing.

I’m an only child. A spoiled only child. Which translates to I-got-everything-I-wanted-and-everything-you-wanted-and-had-it-all-to-myself! So sharing was always a little difficult for me, anyway. In the past four months, I have been woken up for some of the most unusual reasons:
· Smothered by blankets and quilts and sheets
· Being colder than ice due to no covers within for feet of me
· Smushed by an arm that weighs more than half of me
· Getting random, inappropriate body parts pinched due to my husband’s dreams telling him he had to
· My pillow was stolen because my husband had thrown his on the floor
And this doesn’t even cover what my cat does!

But I digress. I digressed a lot.

Life is good. I’ve lost 11.5 lbs in two weeks! I feel happy, healthy, and more energy than I have in a while. And the stomach problems that have seem to plague me for the past few years has yet to rear its ugly head in the past few weeks. And, there seems to be an idea of a promising position in one of two places. We shall see where this leads me. But until then, enjoy the comedy that is adjusting to married life….

Here comes Peter Cottontail...

My mom comes in tonight!

It's been three months since I've seen my mom, but today she'll be here! I know that almost seems silly. I would go from August to November without seeing my mom, and usually she'd only get a phone call with me on Sunday afternoon after both of us had been to church.

But things have changed.

I'd come home for a week in November. Two weeks later after an enormous amount of studying and late night readings topped by finals, I'd drive home for a month. And we'd celebrate Christmas and New Year's and any other excuse we could think of to make comfort food and sweet desserts, and then I'd go back to school for another three months. March usually brought me to her or her to me. And then two months later I'd be back home for another three. We'd work together a lot during the summer, so my mom and I would hang out a lot.

Everytime I left, even if it was for just a week, I'd say, "Ma, I'll be home _____. It won't be too long." Now, I never know when our next meeting will be. That breaks my heart a little each time I leave. Not just because I can't give her that little reassurance, but because I can't give it to myself either.

Sean's father and brother are coming in. They've convinced Seth to come to Harding, so he'll be joining us in Arkansas in August. But he needs to try out for all the wonderful music groups at Harding, so he's coming up this weekend.

Unfortunately, my mother-in-law can't come.

Okay, I know my relationship with my mother-in-law has been less than stable. But I'm sad that Sean doesn't get to see his mom for some time now. Like my mom, we never know when the next time is that we will see his parents. Granted, they'll definitely be here in August to move Seth in, but until then, he won't get to see his mom for eight months possibly. Also, it's because she's sick. No one wants to be sick, especially during holiday times.

Although, I am grateful that I don't have to clean like I would if she were coming. Men genetically can't see dirt like women can, and my mom realizes that anything is an improvement compared to the way my bedroom used to be.

I'm getting everything ready to throw Easter for us on Saturday (due to Seth and Jackie's early departure on Sunday), so I am excited for throwing my first shindig type event for family. It's going to be simple: meat and cheese tray with condiments and rolls to accompany, fruits, veggies, and sidedishes to fit my Weight Watcher's lifestyle. But I'm excited.

Wish me luck!