Month: April 2012

Just My Toes Please

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    It is that time of year again. It is time to head to the salons for pedicures for the summer. It is again time to slough off the dead of winter that torments our soles. It is also time yet again to be tormented by Mamasan and her crew. I don’t know what they are saying, but I think they are talking about me.

    “Manicure… pedicure?” When I say I just want the pedicure, I am told to pick out my color. She frowns at the initial choice as if that color will make me look like a fool, so I make another. I take to the chair, slip off my shoes and add my feet to the blue hot water. I pick up the chair controller, recline the chair and start the massage features. I am relaxed, I am decompressing, I am about to get my “chill out” on.

    Through the dull roar of my eyes, I can hear an annoying sound. “You want design?” Cracking my eyes, I answer politely, “No, thank you.” I just want my feet taken care of, I close my eyes and I am headed back to my land of enchantment, where the Prince has just entered the ball and has asked me to dance. He extends his hand. I reach for it only to hear, “You want spa?” I am getting annoyed. “No, thank you, just the pedicure,” I answer more tersely this time. I frown, lean back again in the chair, now where was I? Oh yes, the Prince, in his regal glory had just reached for my hand. I am nodding, accepting, and he is saying something to me….only all I hear is, “Your nail…really bad…you need manicure!”

    NO I DON’T. I JUST WANT TO RELAX!

“Design, you need design….I make real pretty, I make for you!” I am peeved now, I don’t want the design, just do the toes please. She finally leaves me in peace and I notice my nail polish has ran. I pay and leave in my ad hoc flip flops. Why does it always happen to me, I just wanted my toes done and a moment to relax? I can appreciate her desire to work the upsell, but sometimes when a customer says, “just the toes please,” then that is all they want. I can be honest and tell you, that if you treat the customer with respect, and allow them to just enjoy this opportunity to self-pamper in peace, they will come back. Only next time, they will ask for the manicure as well.

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I often find myself searching for the write words

The Greenery

Does anyone truly love to work?

I mean, the actual act of working, not the side-effects: satisfaction, sense of purpose, feelings of accomplishment. I mean, let’s be honest: wouldn’t you rather be having a glass of wine with friends in a nice, sunny garden instead of surveilling a parking garage, polishing your story draft, or pulling weeds? I know I would. But without the work hours, the wine hours feel a bit hollow and unearned. I mean, what to talk about between sips of wine, if not the day’s accomplishments? Besides which, if you don’t pull the weeds, the sunny garden tends to look a bit…weedy.

Maybe you’re different. Perhaps you’re actually one of those extremely driven souls who thrive on long days at the office, negotiating, litigating, or typing your heart out until moonglitter streams into the windows. If so, I commend you. But I’m also slightly wary…

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I’m a Frickin’ Lady!

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    Yesterday I went shopping with my god friend as we looked for potential items for our upcoming cruise. I have plenty of clothing to wear, so I was actually looking for a pair of navy slacks for work. I knew what I came for, but in good spirit, I listened to her suggestions. We tried on dresses. We tried on shorts, we tried on tees. Please allow me to clarify my stance before we go any further. My work clothing is very conservative. My leisurely clothing is very conservative. I seldom wear loud colors and deep cut blouses, because I am a frickin’ lady.

    Everything she picked up or picked out for me looked like something from a video of MILFs gone wild. I do like color, in moderation. I don’t wear tons of colors because I don’t want to scream, “look at me!” There is a time and a place, but I would never in my wildest dreams wear anything that I feel would be an embarrassment to my son or to my husband. Maybe it was just the way I was raised. Maybe deep inside of me, I have always been a woman who wanted to be respected for my mind and to comport myself in manner that my standards would not be questioned.

    I cannot help but question the motifs of a woman over 45 who wants her cleavage to show. Those boobs are old and moving towards becoming full of dust, who are you trying to tempt? I am not ashamed of my body and take pride in my appearance, but I can do that in flattering colors, suitable patterns and dresses that are appropriate for my age.

I still live by the rules taught by my mother; if it will embarrass you if I found out, then don’t do it. I hold those words dear and taught the same rule to my son. There has to be a standard. I am holding to mine because I’m a frickin’ lady!



Finding Your Purpose

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    There are some days we arise to go about our day and it appears to be a chore just to get out of the bed. You began to think that the job will still be there if we choose to get back in the bed, no one will miss you if you just stay home today. As a matter of fact, will you be missed if you don’t come back at all? If you have found your purpose, those whom you work alongside each day, will miss your presence as well as the mission you toil to complete each day.

    Last week I questioned myself wondering if what I was doing actually mattered to anyone. Does what I do make a difference to anyone other than the fool in my head that urges me daily to trudge on? There are times when I am uncertain, that was until last night.

    One of my co-workers called in sick and I was asked to fill in. I had already filled in on her duties once and felt I had done my part. When asked to do so again, I declined. Somewhere during my evening, I realized that maybe it was a moment when I needed to be bigger than myself and consider the long term impact versus the short term inconvenience. I went in at 7:30 at night to cover a two hour course. I had been at work at 7:30 for my 8 am course, my 10 am and 12:30 pm classes; I was tired. Yet, I got in there and did what was needed.

    Tired, worn and limping home at 10:15 pm, at my 10 am class the next day, I was not fully functioning because I was tired. I was stopped in the hall by one of the Directors who asked if I was the one that filled in last night. I nodded wondering who had something to say. I was informed that two students came to her raving how much they enjoyed my lecture and how much they learned. Who knew?

    Sometimes the smallest gestures can have the deepest impact and we must find that which we enjoy. Once you enjoy yourself, then it no longer becomes work. When what you do each day is no longer work, you my friend, have found your place.

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This also proves very true for Georgia.