It’s raining it’s pouring the old man is snoring……
I remember singing that song as a kid. It’s funny we have no clue that when it rains it really does pour. It doesn’t always have to be in the “shit! It’s all dumping on my head at once and I can’t get dry to save my life” kind of way. It can be in a “woah! Where did all these boys come from, when just yesterday there were none to be found in a 150 mile radius” kind of way. Good or bad right now I am soaked to the bone and I don’t see any buildings with awnings ahead and my umbrella won’t open.
On the downpour side…. Have you had that time at work or home where it doesn’t matter… it doesn’t matter how many good things you do, or what is positive that is produced from your cubicle, all that gets noticed or noted is the fuck-ups? I was late last week… almost everyday. I admit it, I was late… I can admit when I’m wrong (I had made known I didn’t, shouldn’t, couldn’t work at the ass crack of dawn, yet they made me anyway). 10 minutes or so, except one day that was a half hour. So I got a “verbal” warning… that I had to sign. How is that a verbal warning? If it is written down and nowhere on the paper does it say “verbal warning” then isn’t that a written warning? In the middle of the morning when I was dealing with a logistical nightmare, entering PO’s and running a report when I was asked to make a dinner reservation. I wrote it on a post-it and promptly forgot to do it. This could have been horribly embarrassing, except there were plenty of tables and all was well. But (there’s always a butt…) the boss felt the need to call me to tell me I forgot and how embarrassed he would have been, if there weren’t a table, but there was. Even the littlest mistake becomes huge. (maybe this is my karma for my “jeremiah was a bullfrog blog”. … if I deserve it I deserve it.) I think at some point there should be a break. Some things deserve to be noticed and dealt with accordingly. Others can be let go. Passive aggression people! Just don’t talk to me for a day and be fine on Monday… How hard is it really? I do good work. I am a producer. And there in lies the problem. We continue to produce and never get appreciated and never get thanked, yet we get cut down for our littlest mistake… but we STILL PRODUCE. What motivation does this provide?? Flip the coin and you’re fired and there’s the motivation. So I continue to walk in the rain. Maybe if I whistle no one will notice the little things. Ya think??
On the sprinkling with short bursts of sunshine side… It’s raining men. In my journal on Tuesday I wrote about this boy I met and how funny he is and how he asked me out on a date. (What is a date??? I thought this was a fruit that is way to sweet with a pit that breaks teeth… ) So I said yes. All day I thought about going out, but not in the overly excited way, just in a looking forward way. Then I wrote the following… Even still I think about BK and wish I didn’t miss WC. I put my journal down and started to read…. My phone started buzzing and it was a text from a boy I had met three weeks earlier. (I hadn’t gotten my hopes up, so I wasn’t disappointed when he never called…. hhmmm) We texted back and forth… he’s been gone for his job (this is usual for him) and will I be around next week… yup. Curious. The next morning I open my email to find a note from the one I miss. Telling me he misses me and thanking me for my Christmas gift – it’s come in handy on his vacation. He’d love to see me when he gets back. (We’ve remained friends, but I still feel the weight of my mistake in letting him go). Then a call from BK… (were they reading my journal????) and lots of texts and emails from the date?
The old man was waking up from his slumber on the home front…. The scales of home and work seem to be moving up and down… kinda like a see-saw. Now if I can find the balance to stand in the middle. Maybe I’ll use the faulty umbrella as a cane to keep me from falling and it will help with the step. If someone can teach me to whistle I’ll be doin really good and maybe, just maybe ….. all can be right with the world.
