Category: Uncategorized

Posted in Fiction, Uncategorized, Writing

Writing Prompt 4,Office Work

Posted on by jennrae

Sent to the Wrong Printer

You’re at work and you print something personal (and sensitive). Unfortunately, you’ve sent

it to the wrong printer and, by the time you realize it, somebody else has already scooped

it up.

 

The sound of the laser printer winding down and the swish of a paper swiftly being grabbed startled me from my reverie. I looked at my computer suddenly spilling coffee on my mouse pad. Oh crap! I looked and sure enough my embarrassingly bad diatribe venting about the futility of reaching out to a co worker crush went to the manager’s printer. More physical evidence of wasting work time on personal endeavors because I was bored; great just great, that was exactly what I needed.  The gray walls of cubicles surrounded me, my little local printer sat empty and quiet. I looked at the printer options on my screen, yep; the manager got my embarrassing letter not meant for anyone’s eyes but mine in his hand as I sit here with coffee on my desk. How to explain this? I look around the cubicle assessing my possessions thinking about the time it would take to pack up my things and do the walk of shame out of the office.

I reluctantly get up to get a paper towel. Might as well pick up my mess. The next victim to be placed here might appreciate it. I all ready was feeling sorry for my replacement when my phone rang in its shrill obtrusive way. Here we go, I sigh resigned.

“Minerva Abrams, how can I help you?”

“In my office, now.”

“Oh, okay, so, what’s this about, Doug?” I say trying to pour the innocence in my voice like honey. They say the people on the other end of a phone call can hear if you smile when you’re talking to them, I was smiling, hopefully that will count for something.

“I’ll tell you when you get here.”

Yeah, don’t think that fooled him at all. Was my name on the document? Was he computer savvy enough to figure out it had come from my machine? Maybe I can pass it off as somebody else? I picked up my current portfolio of sales prospects that I was to cold call later today and a notepad. Got to look professional even if I feel like a fraud. Fake it till you make it, right?

I breathe in deeply, and let out a breath slowly, trying to be calm and collected. I want to walk in confident, and worry free, strong steps in imperial high heels. If I got to go, I want to go out like I came in with my head high, at least on the outside, on the inside I can be mortified and small as long as no one else sees. Appearances are everything. I am sure in a week everyone will know every embarrassing detail. But today, right now, I can escape the shame.

I take confident strides high heels thudding on thin carpet passing rows of cubicles that all look the same, some people looking up, others not. I walk by the secretary with the flowers on her desk, and a smug smirk on her face, her eyes saying, “uh oh, you really did it now. Hehe.” I think to myself, what goes around comes around, you smug #@#*&*@.

I knock on Doug’s door with authority the secretary looking at me open mouthed looking surprised and horrified that I bypassed her.  I saw her pick up the phone to let him know I was there, even though he called me to come over, and I am sure knew it was me.  I stood up straight as he opened the door and motioned for me to take a seat with a white paper in his hand. I couldn’t see the writing on it, and wasn’t sure if it was my infamous letter or another paper.  I bravely perched myself on the edge of the chair, not sure I would be sitting for long. I could hear my heart pounding in my chest, blood pumping in my ears. Please, God, just get this over with, this other shoe is taking forever to drop! I breathe again deeply as he takes a seat across from me after shutting the door. I hear the door click shut. Yep, this is serious. He only shuts the door when you are in trouble. I try to keep a brave face, but feel it slipping a bit as the toll of pretending to be brave is getting harder and harder every passing moment.

“Minerva, I have a paper in my hand that I believe may have come from your computer.” Crap, I think silently, so much for him being computer illiterate.

“Oh really? How can you be sure?”

“Well, let’s see. You want me to read it aloud, or are you going to tell me what this is about?”

“What is this about? I haven’t the foggiest.” The foggiest? Really? My mind has obviously melted. Who says that? I look down, nervous. He has found me out for sure.

“Okay. You want to play this game.  All right then. Here we go, you tell me when you want me to stop, okay? ‘ To whom it may concern: I am tired of your games. You are friendly and flirty one day, and ignore me the next. My mom says I’ll be an old maid because I’m still unmarried at 30 but I keep hoping you will ask for my number, and ride off in the sunset. I am so angry at you right now for not asking me and for offering lunch that one day and then forgetting about it while I sat at I heart Burgers all by myself like some pathetic person eating all by myself like an idiot. Oh and the person next to me keeps forgetting to wear deodorant and it is totally gross. And why does Sharon keep getting roses? She is such an ugly pig and terrible at her job.’ There’s more, a lot more, in a similar vein.  It also goes on to say ‘management here sucks and Doug has no idea how to work a computer if it was unplugged he would call in tech support. Ps the tech support guy is kinda cute too.’ I think almost everyone is mentioned here, except you of course, and Al the maintenance guy who works at night. So, I am guessing despite my lack of computer skills, that this is yours. Am I correct, or do you want me to call tech support and get it officially confirmed?”

I squirmed in my seat, “Well, so what happens now? I am sorry for that, it shouldn’t have ever happened.”

“You don’t say? Well, this isn’t the first time I have caught you using company time unwisely. What do you think I should do?”

“hmm. Let me off with a warning? Got it. Won’t happen again, sir.” I give my winning smile. He looks concerned, brow furrowed, looking at me like he wasn’t sure what to do with me like I was a two headed giraffe with purple spots.

“So, who is this unfortunate guy you are so mad at?”

“Don’t worry, it isn’t you, Doug.” Maybe I should’ve lied, might have helped my case. My darn mouth going faster than my brain again, oh well. Time to take your medicine. I am tempted to close my eyes and just wait for the hammer to fall.

“Tell you what, Minerva, I understand how these office romances can start, and I know it can be frustrating working here calling people who don’t want to receive your calls. It isn’t a fun job, and I know it can be boring. I am willing to give this to you on one condition.”

My eyes open wide, hmm, what’s this? “Really? Say it, and I will do it.”

“You need to go up to this guy on your lunch break, or after work, not on work time, and tell him how you feel. Not on work time, understand? On work time, you will be working, or I will have to take other measures. I know this will be embarrassing for you, and possibly painful, oh, and don’t ever, ever do this again, okay?”

“Okay. But why are you being so nice?”

“Let’s just say I might have a regret or two. But first, do we have a deal?”

“Does Sharon know all about this, because I know she talks and I don’t think I can come back here with everyone snickering.”

“Sharon always acts like she knows more than she does. I do not share confidential information with her. That would be very unprofessional.” Doug smiled and held the paper out to me and I grabbed it from him hastily. In that moment I realized maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. If he took some computer classes he might even be an okay manager.

Posted in Fiction, Uncategorized, Writing

Writing Prompt 3 The Donut Shop Mystery

Posted on by jennrae

One Day you come into work and find a cookie mysteriously placed on your desk. Grateful

to whoever left this anonymous cookie, you eat it. The next morning you come in and find

another cookie. This continues for months until one Day a different object is left—and this

time there’s a note.

 

“Hmmm. What’s this? A note on the desk. It is sealed, doesn’t say who it is from? Hmm. Could this be from the same person leaving the mysterious oatmeal cookies with white chocolate chips and dried cranberries? My favorite. A close call between the classic peanut butter cookie to be sure. There is a small locket by the note. One of those old time classic heart lockets that you can swing open the face and put a little picture, a super small picture in if you have one that small. I open it slowly looking around to see who was nearby. Maybe the cookies weren’t for me? Maybe I was eating something meant for someone else? But the whole secret admirer thing was way more romantic and titillating than a mistaken identity. Besides, no one had said, hey what are you doing eating my cookies?

Curious, I looked into the tiny locket. It had initials in it, no picture though. It simply said E.B. I looked at the sealed note. Plain envelope, no mention of who it is for, or whom it is from. The seal was a smiley sticker, a simple sticker that was yellow with a silly face, tongue hanging out with silly eyes. It was placed in the middle, it would be easy to open and reseal, I thought to myself. Curiosity killed the cat, good thing I’m not a cat…seems almost like the type of seal one would use for a child’s card.

I looked around one more time, and carefully peeled back the smiley face, and opened the envelope, inside was a small piece of thin parchment like paper. In delicate handwriting, cursive scrawl not typed, was a simple letter. I took it out, and looked at the words wondering who was leaving this here and why. The letter simply said, “ Dear whoever has been enjoying my cookies,

I hope I added some spice to a boring work day. Meet me for coffee at 2pm at the Donut Shop. Don’t be late, and bring this letter.”

Hmm. Should I go to the the Donut Shop at 2pm? What if it is a crazy stalker type? What if it is a person who is into something violent and I get kidnapped and kept in a basement for years? Okay, how often does that sort of thing happen? But, what if this is one of those times? Arrgh, who is EB?

I knew what I would have to do. I would have to discreetly go to the Donut Shop which was located across the street from my workplace. The person is either a co worker playing a prank, highly likely, or a secret admirer who is also most likely a coworker playing a prank. Or, an unknown creepy stalker guy who has been watching me come and go from the Donut Shop.  But then how would he get this stuff in here? Only employees have access back here? Nothing to do but go and find out.

I pull my long black wool coat close to me in a virtual self hug as I leave the office carefully. I say good bye to people at their cubicles who grunt without looking up as I walk out at the unusual time of ten til 2pm. I walk with purse clutched tightly in one hand, other hand in a pocket with a small canister of mace. You know, just in case. I hit the button to use the crosswalk, traffic lulls to a stop to the loud beeping of the pedestrian green light, and I walk with purpose, one foot in front of the other, like I have all the time in the world, attempting to project calmness, confidence, like I don’t have a care in the world. Just going to go grab a coffee, and possibly some coffee cake, and enjoy a break out of the office. I’m not meeting a random stranger from an anonymous note that would be foolish in this day and age. Downright reckless! Nope, not me!

I open the door slowly, here the tinkle of the door bell move as I did so. Looked into the eyes of a bored cashier by a long counter, her eyes lidded and glancing at me while texting someone on her phone. I look around at the tables, see people scattered here and there. Someone was sitting in the corner, with a newspaper over their face, all by themselves.  They had a long coat on and a hat, like some old time detective from a Bogart movie. The newspaper hid the face, but from the body language of the crossed leg and the build, I would say this was a man, old or young hard to say. I looked at the other tables, because I didn’t know who this person was. I still had the chance to change my mind and leave the shop. The cashier was still texting, and hadn’t said hi.

I went to an empty table, pulled out a chair and sat down, placing my purse on the floor next to me, glancing at a paper menu on the table. Drip coffee 1.99, refills 50 cents. Donuts 2.49 each, or 5 for a dozen. I get the letter out, resealed with its smiley face, and put it visibly on the table thinking the person might take it as a cue to come over and reveal themselves. The man in the corner adjusts the paper noisily, moves his legs as well, but doesn’t get up. Hmm. If not him, then who is it? I look around casually, or trying to make it appear casual, noting other people sipping coffee and reading or talking. No one especially stood out as suspicious except the weird guy in the corner. The cashier comes over noticing me for the first time and says, “Hon, you know what you want?” What a question! I don’t even know what’s going on here, let alone what I want.

I say simply, “A cup of coffee and a small piece of coffee cake. I’m on my break from work.” She gives me a look like if you think that will make me hurry you are mistaken, and walks back to the counter. The man puts his paper down now, and I take a peek to see if it is someone I know. The face doesn’t seem too familiar, but it does seem like I’ve seen it somewhere before.

“Excuse me,” I say loudly, “Sir, are you waiting for someone?”

“I’ve been waiting my whole life for someone, actually.” He says voice kind of gravelly. Sounds like maybe a smoker. Maybe early 50s.

“Does it have anything to do with this?” I hold up the note in its smiley envelope. His face turns into a smile and he walks over. “Can it really be you? My little Junebug?”

“What? I want to know what this is about? “

The man seems sad all of a sudden, and I see a tear form in his eye. “I have missed you so much. I haven’t seen you since you were 5 years old, and you moved away. Your mother wouldn’t tell me where you were, disconnected your number.  I have tried everything to find you for so long. I had all but given up hope when I saw your name in the paper for helping out that family through your work. I knew it had to be you even though the last name was different. I hoped it was you, but I was scared about what you would think of me, what you had been told possibly. I am sorry. I didn’t know how to reach out the right way. So, I had the waitress here send cookies over and she agreed to leave the note and locket for me.”

“Who are you supposed to be again?” I said incredulous.

“I’m your father. I know your Mom remarried, and you probably don’t remember me. I was working all the time back then, and I didn’t spend enough time with you. But surely, you remember?” The man looked hurt, and confused.

“What was your daughter’s name? Who do you think I am?”

“June. My little Junebug.”

Suddenly it all made sense. June was the person who used to have my desk. She had moved on to another office, into management I think. I had inherited a lot of pens and things left behind from her, but this had to be the saddest of them all.

“I’m so sorry. But I am not June. I am Tina. I think she used to have my desk.” I added lamely, holding the note out to the man. “Thanks for the cookies though.” I smiled awkwardly, looking at my watch. “Oh, looks like my break is over, good luck with the search.” I picked up my purse, left a couple dollars on the table for the cashier who was back looking at her phone, and briskly walked out of there. Darn. Mistaken identity after all.

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing

Writing Prompt Boot Camp #1..Breaking up with Writer’s Block.

Posted on by jennrae

“Dear Writer’s Block, it’s not you, it’s me …I am going to commit to writing every single day whether I feel especially inspired or not.  I have spent way too much time giving myself excuses for not writing getting caught up in drama and little things and entertainment that is created by others. I am a creator and it is time for me to create rather than consume.  I need to brush the dust out of the brain to edit my novel properly.  I need to do some fresh writing.

I did more writing when I didn’t have a car. It is funny how when you are riding public transit or waiting for the next bus to come you feel the need to fill the void of that ten to fifteen minutes, but if you are comfortable at home it is just as easy to pop in a movie or binge watch Breaking Bad. There is something about being in between places that forces me to be creative and perhaps my life has become too predictable, too ordinary.  There aren’t enough gaps for stories to thrive. My time is scheduled, over booked, except for writing. Writing is my passion, my key to being centered and fulfilled and not making time for it often leads me to feeling listless or aimless.

For that reason among others, you have to go Writer’s Block. I have spent way too much time, money and energy on you and wasted precious time I can never get back. I know of no one else who has 4 novels sitting on their floor since 2001. And over a dozen short stories but none written this year. I want to do NANOWRIMO this year, no excuses. No maybe next year. What if I were to die in a freak accident next year? I want no more regrets.  I don’t want to look back wondering where all my time went. Wondering if I am leaving any contribution to society or any mark on this world. Anything for my son to be proud of? I am a descendant of Mark Twain, or his father anyway, and how many people can say that? I am sure there are some, but not many.  I have a writer’s legacy, I have been writing since I was 6. I went to the Cougar writing conference at 11. I got to see Peninsula College back then. I had a lot of encouragement from teachers.

I drew horses and unicorns and dreamed a lot. I made histories, names, and genealogies of fictional families, races, creatures.  Where did that go? I used to put myself to sleep by going through my own fictional soap opera called Zennis. Still haven’t written that story, and it is one door among a long hallway of dimensions waiting for me to explore;  so many stories lying dormant, waiting for my pen to bring them to life, to share the stories with others. I miss having a writer’s group, perhaps I should find a new one. It helped me to stay focused, to make time. Timed writes were helpful too, really allowed me to see other settings and forced me to think of other ideas I may not have without that pressure and limitation.

So, I am going to commit to myself, to get up at 5 am, and write until around 5 30 so that I can write without distractions and it is a time I can write on a daily basis since I often get up at 5 30 to get ready for work, it will force me to fit it in. If I am feeling truly inspired I will have a notepad with me and will write later. I used to keep one by my bed because some of my favorite stories actually came from dreams and if you don’t write them down immediately little details disappear, and sometimes whole planets and languages are just gone. And the only thing I can remember is that it was really cool. That makes me sad because I know it was a moment in time and the story is gone forever never to return.

When I was deep into writing my novel for the first time I fell in love with the characters, I lived and breathed with them, felt bad when they were hurt. They felt like real people. I was obsessed and focused and there were never enough hours in the day. I would get home from work and write until I went to bed, got up early so I could write before work, go to work, come back home and write some more. It got so intense; my husband at the time actually became jealous of my novel because I spent more time writing it than talking to him.  He passionately hated my novel, but would brag to others that I had written it.  It is hard for people to understand the total concentration required; the shutting off of everything but this one thing for hours. It seems crazy, like a neurosis. Maybe it is something a creative person could understand but a more traditional sort might have trouble with. Perhaps writers are crazy.

When you, Writer’s Block come in, it is like the fountain has been shut off, and no matter how hard I turn the knob nothing happens. It is like my heart has been removed, but I don’t die, but I am not alive either. It is a horrible stagnant feeling. But most often it just is a sign that I have drifted too far from my authentic self or got caught up in the minutiae of everyday existence.  The day to day grind kills dreams. Too much time worrying about bills, and tasks and what other people are doing or not doing, it removes me further from what I should be doing. It is easy to get caught in this trap, this nonexistent existence.  This killing of time, destroying worlds by not writing them down. Not creating history that will never be real but may really affect someone and speak to a deeper meaning or purpose.

I still feel that Science- Fiction especially lends itself to exploring deep issues with humanity and the world. It is like the ultimate what if scenario, the ultimate sand box experience. You put in hypothetical’s and explore what may happen under specific conditions. Fantasy often lends itself to exploring archetypes and history and the heroic quest. It explores something deeply primal and necessary, the human story.  It looks back while Science-Fiction looks forward. I love them best but have dabbled in suspense/horror as well. It can also explore the human condition and I love a twisted ending.

Part of the joy I get from the short story is the twist or the epiphany you get at the end. It is that sensation that the light has been turned on and now everything makes sense. I like that feeling and I like putting it together. A novel takes a different kind of approach. I knew how I wanted it to start, and I knew how it would end, but the middle only had a few incidents mapped out. A lot of little events became important along the way, and I found myself going on the path less taken often. So often that the novel is a mess, and perhaps a more experienced writer would have recognized the danger signs and know how and when to reign the beast in.  Now it is a massive intimidating behemoth that I am perpetually rewriting.

Sometimes I think I should give up on this dream, and start afresh. But it is hard; I keep finding myself wanting to do justice to those characters I spent so much time with.  I feel I almost owe it to them to get their story published. Their existence depends on people being able to get to know them like I have, and it is my duty as a writer to make them real, and allow people to care about them. So, Writer’s Block, I have no more time in my life for you, pack your bags, you have over stayed your welcome. There is the door, good bye and if I see you again, don’t expect a long stay.

Posted in Life, Uncategorized

Automatons and Service Industry Workers, or Machines vs. the Minimum Wage Worker

Posted on by jennrae

Just an idea I had, as my online school had a passage on the Luddite movement. Kind of an interesting phenomenon that occurred in the early 1800s and had to do with a backlash of the industrial revolution. These Luddites as they were called were english textile workers who felt they were being replaced by less skilled workers because of new technology. No longer did business  need their skills, when they just needed someone to help run the machine.

This got me thinking to my old job at Blockbuster. As I am sure most of you are aware, finding brick and mortar video stores is getting more and more difficult. I look at the “Redbox” that is by most drugstores, and at services like Netflix as being primarily responsible. Luckily for me, I left that job before it disappeared, but still, I have a feeling of deja vu in my current employment when I completed a shift at another branch of my bank that has a younger clientele. I spent a good portion of the day watching customers go to the ATM machine. At one point theye waited in line, despite the lobby in the bank being empty. The older people would go into the bank, and deal with actual live people. But most of the younger people preferred the machine.

Another example I have seen is the self check out lines. Sure, they are quirky and you need an employee to stand there, and oversee them, and train the customer how to use them, and get them unstuck. But what happens when people are trained to use them, and it becomes a no brainer? Like using an ATM, or a Redbox? What if the glitches are all but eliminated? Where does that retail worker go?

Sure, there are workers somewhere that are employed to help build these machines. Although machine building itself is becoming increasingly automated, still someone has to make the molds to make the parts, assembly line workers need to put them together right?

Back to the Luddites then. These assembly line workers, what kind of skill do they really need? What kind of wages can a corporation get away with paying them? Are people with this skill set hard to find, or replace? I would argue no, they aren’t. Which is why companies outsource this type of work to countries where there is either no minimum wage, or the wage is much lower than the U.S. These jobs do disappear from here, and the service jobs, do become rarer.

Someday everyone will be comfortable with the ATM, which is now envelope free and can do everything from print statements, to email your balance to you. The next generation will have to figure out another way to make a living as a lot of these jobs will be gone, and the basic factory jobs will be elsewhere.

This all reminds me of one thing, which does give me some hope. There is a scene in the Fifth Element, where the main villain breaks something, and all these little robots come out to clean up the mess. he is making the argument that he is creating life out of destruction, and that he is creating more jobs by using these machines in the end. But, when he chokes on a piece of fruit, the priest points out, “Where is the robot to pat you on the back?”  As long as we still need people, all hope is not lost.

Posted in Uncategorized

We’ll Get There When We Get There…or Why Patience is Everything

Posted on by jennrae

Because I love using cliches as examples because most of them many of us have heard some time or another, here goes another one: Patience is a Virtue. I have heard that one as a kid, and have used it on my kid numerous times. Not sure I ever fully learn the lesson, but saying it seems to help.

None of us likes to wait for anything. Waiting in the grocery store, the bank, drugstore, post office, in traffic. We all end up in the “waiting place.” Like the waiting place in the Dr. Seuss book of wisdom, “Oh the Places You’ll Go,” we all end up sometimes waiting to get unstuck. Like the book says, waiting for the phone to ring, waiting for our time to come, moment to shine, just waiting for something to happen.

Patience is more than waiting. Patience is being able to bide your time constructively. It isn’t waiting. It is being content with things as they are right now. It is taking the moment to breathe and think to yourself, “Man, I hate waiting to pick up my prescription, but the sun is shining outside, and I don’t have a terminal illness. I will eventually reach the front of the line and pay the money and get my pills and be on my way.”

Patience is acceptance. Patience is realizing that right now things are out of your control. That getting emotional will not solve anything, and will not make you reach your objective faster. Look for opportunities instead of problems. Waiting in line at the grocery store? Maybe the person in front of you is also bored and would welcome a conversation. Take the time to look at the tabloids and realize how silly they are. Think about all the things you are grateful for in your life, and what your life would be like if you couldn’t afford groceries.

The moral of the story is don’t waste your time, use your time wisely, but accept when you are temporarily out of control and use that mental energy to look within instead of lashing out. Remember, there is no fire. Sometimes good things do come for those who are willing to wait, as long as they are also being constructive and positive.

Happy Easter everyone, by the way, and don’t eat too much chocolate! 🙂

Posted in Uncategorized

To Self Publish or Not to Self Publish?

Posted on by jennrae

Not sure what the pros and cons are in either, although once initial rights have been sold I would imagine it would be difficult to resell them for much. I had to learn the hard way that putting work on the internet is the same as self publishing for free, so I have had to make a lot of writing private or restricted just to protect the rights in case I wanted to sell them.

However, as far as my novel is concerned, it is currently unpublishable, but if I were to fix it up, which path should I take? These days if you want someone like Tor to publish your work you need an agent, which I don’t currently have. But, putting all that aside, which would you do, and why? Just curious what other more knowledgeable people might think. I have published a couple short stories in college lit journals, but the rewards were getting in print, and in one case, getting a flower. Don’t know what happened to that flower…poor thing, that doesn’t bode well. Thoughts? Which direction should I focus on? 🙂

Posted in Life, Uncategorized

It isn’t over til it’s over…or why giving up isn’t as easy as it sounds

Posted on by jennrae

I’m sitting in the coffee shop right now thinking and being all existential-like. Life has meaning, I believe this. If  I have faith in anything, it is that things happen for a reason whether we understand the reason or not. If you were to die tomorrow, and see the events of your life, would you be proud of the life you lived? Or would you be filled with regret?

Right now, I look back and feel that I have done a lot of self discovery but still not accomplished much. If I died tomorrow, I would feel like I let myself down in some ways. I didn’t try hard enough to publish my novel, didn’t get my degree, never got to see the world. But, on the other hand, I did have a beautiful son, I had several good love stories with beautiful moments. I know there are people who would miss me everyday. I treasure these memories, and I know that my time on earth hasn’t been a waste. Every experience helps shape who you are and what you will become. Every person you meet impacts you, and affects you.

It is never truly over. Life is a cycle, and even if someone leaves your life, they will come back, perhaps not in the same form, maybe not to fill the same role. But they aren’t gone. They live on in your thoughts, dreams, and wishes.

Giving up on a future, or a dream of where you thought it was all going is so very hard because you felt so sure, so certain of the destination. But, like the cliche says, the “even the best laid plans go awry.”

Nothing worth doing is easy, and giving up on a dream isn’t either. But the fantasy of being with someone isn’t the same as the dream of writing a novel, of getting a master’s degree, of seeing your child get a master’s degree. The dream of being with someone isn’t something you can make happen. It takes the other person to be in the same dream. When two people are living two separate dreams it cannot work.  And, living in a dream world will prevent you from accomplishing things in life, and increase the chance of looking back with regrets. Regret is wasted energy. The past is gone, it isn’t coming back.

I will always look back in the year I had with fondness, without regret. It was beautiful, and I know that next year will be as well. It will  be different, but that can be good. Part of life is change, and how we deal with change. So, live life, sometimes living means giving up on one dream so you can live another. The future is always hopeful, the past is always finished. The present moment is where we find the most joy, and the most lasting fulfillment, so use your time wisely. Enjoy the moments while you have them, nothing lasts forever.

Posted in Life, Uncategorized

Life is Good, or Life is What You Make it

Posted on by jennrae

I’ve been doing a lot of reading lately. Reading about things like making decisions, how to move on, and how to be happy with how things are. Trying to think positive, and accept things as they are, not how I would like them to be, or how I wish they were. Reality is reality. And, reality isn’t that bad. Life is actually good. It is easy to get trapped into seeing the negative things, and overlook the positive. Even things like having a loved one leave your life abruptly, can actually bring good things into your life.

For me, it has been hard to stay optimistic. There are mornings where I wish I could magically get my old life back. I was happy, content. I really felt good, and didn’t desire more. But, it was perhaps my lack of wanting more that made it stale for the other person. I guess I will never know, and knowing that answer won’t change anything anyway. But, then I realize that the leaving was a catalyst for a lot of things I may not have started doing. Going back to school, starting an exercise regimen, writing more, even feeling flirtatious, and being able to spend time doing other things. Like quality time with my son, or even trying to set up a date, or just going out for the sake of going out. I don’t have to worry about entertaining someone else, or cooking for someone else, except my son and all he wants is mac and cheese or pancakes. It opened a lot of freedom for me, and is forcing me to look into my life and improve it.

The trick is to not get stuck in the past, or the woulda coulda shoulda’s. And I have to fight that every day. It is difficult to accept that someone can love you one day, and leave you the next. You feel like that happens when you do something wrong, for example:  lie, cheat, be disrespectful. You don’t prepare yourself for them just deciding it isn’t a good fit for them. You aren’t a shoe, or a sweater. You are a person. If they loved you, they would try everything in their power to make it work right? Not necessarily. And you will never know what’s going on in their head, and you will never know why. And the really great news is….you don’t need to. Because it doesn’t matter. What matters is you know that you tried, that you gave it your all. That you didn’t give up on them. That you treated them right, and that you deserve better. 🙂

Posted in Life, Uncategorized

To have a beginning there has to be an end…

Posted on by jennrae

It’s been a while since i made a blog post. Partly I just wasn’t feeling a good vibe for the last posts. They came off too preachy, and who am I really? I am just another soul on a journey experiencing highs, lows and everything in between. I know I don’t have all the answers, I am not even sure I have a few of them anymore. I am questioning things I took for granted. What is happiness? Is it attainable for the long term, or is it just a temporary satisfaction to be followed by a fall? Is it something I should search for, or should I be content to be healthy, and alive? Is that enough?

I really don’t know. I suppose I have to start with being me, and being happy with that and go from there. Work on improving my mind, and body, and soul. I thought I found someone that I could be partners with for the rest of my life. But I was wrong. I felt it, I was happy. It felt right to me, I trusted him, I believed in him. I wanted to cheer him on, I wanted to be a shoulder to cry on on hard days, and to be a person he could go to for anything. I wanted him to be happy, and to be himself with me. I wanted to give all this, because I felt I got all this from him. he had my back, and I had his. That’s what i thought I knew. I didn’t really get to know him, I knew the person he showed me, the person i thought loved me, and that I loved. In reality, he was unhappy, unfulfilled, going through the motions, taking it day by day, existing. Somewhere, somehow he figured out he didn’t want what we had anymore, and needed to leave. The thinking process, the things that led up to it, weren’t discussed with me. I was living a fairy tale, I had no idea the other shoe was about to crash on my head. I had no idea he didn’t want this. I thought, I assumed he was on my page.

Now I think maybe I was reading the wrong book, and I don’t know where to start. I have to redirect all this energy back to me and my son. I am on the start of a new journey, which is scary and exciting at the same time. In order to have a beginning, you must have an ending. It wasn’t the ending that I wanted, but then I am not the author of my own story. I have to deal with what is, not what I would like, or what could have been, or should have been. Reality is that he is gone, and won’t be back, i have to be here, and find the person who wants what I want. I am not there yet, first I have to find my place in the book, before I go seeking between the pages. but when I am ready, I know I will be better, stronger, and more determined for having gone through this. I can handle whatever is thrown my way, and bounce back twice as strong. This is a blip on the radar of life, a pebble in my shoe that has been removed. now, to keep on walking.

Posted in Life, Uncategorized

What My Toddler Taught Me the Other Day…

Posted on by jennrae

I have been experimenting with my webcam, as my Facebook friends are well aware, and I was going to upload an intro video for here, but ran into the whole, uh, no you can’t do that without paying money thing. So, I won’t be doing that after all, and I was kinda looking forward to it. I guess for this entry, I will be touching on disappointment. Because I was disappointed that I couldn’t upload a video, but also, I have been running into a lot of things that could be disappointing, or have been disappointing, but, you can choose to not let it get you down.

For example, last night I had some good quality time with the family, and my young son was in a bad mood, he had missed his nap and he is only two years old. Soon, my mom was grumpy, then I was grumpy, then my dad, then my brothers, and pretty soon it was kinda tense.  It illustrated to me, how negative emotions, feelings can spread, from one person to the next. It was kinda amazing looking back, when I wasn’t in the cloud anymore, and realizing it all started with my son being grumpy. Of course, the situation got so tense, that we started making jokes, changing the subject, and eventually the tension was relieved, and later, even, my son was in a great mood, very happy. and we were all smiling, and laughing. Positive emotions are also infectious.  It’s nice to know it works both ways.

However, why am I telling you all this? This wasn’t disappointing? Well, I was disappointed in myself, for allowing myself to be drawn into the negativity, for slipping into snappiness, for being a part of the problem. I have been so happy lately, I thought nothing could bring me down. And, this just awakened in me the realization that contentment is fragile. That you can get drawn into the chaos, and you have to take a moment, and try to step back from the situation. Don’t let it escalate, don’t become a part of the problem. I realized this later, although at the time, I did make a conscious choice to stop contributing, and I am glad that I had the sense to do that.

The real disappointment came later, my son seemed to be ready to go. He willingly got his coat and shoes on, said something about a field trip. I just kinda said, yeah, sure, why not. I had no idea that he thought we were actually going on a  field trip at 8pm. Needless to say, when we pulled into our parking spot, he flipped out on me, refused to leave the car, and cried, “FIELD TRIPPPPPP!!!!!” I was completely taken aback. I had no idea he thought we were going someplace, when I thought he was on my page, that it was time to go home. I eventually hauled him upstairs, pointed out that the stars were out, and that it was too late for a field trip, and that we could go on one tomorrow. He wasn’t mollified by this.  Eventually, I waited it out, and he took off his coat, and let me rock him in the rocking chair, until he fell asleep. He was disappointed and he handled it like a typical toddler, by throwing a tantrum. As adults, we can’t handle it this way, and still be  considered as  functional in society. We have to swallow it, or confess it, or bury it, or deal with it. Dealing with it, is usually the best way, although it can be the most unpleasant at the time.

I guess my point is, no matter what you are kicking yourself in the behind about, you can always go on that field trip tomorrow, there is always hope, there is always another try.  If you are disappointed, don’t let it ruin things, know that as long as you are breathing and able, there is always a chance it will work out down the line. Sometimes, timing is everything, and sometimes, we get caught up in our own cloud of negativity, and it is hard to see that you are in it until you are out.