Living My Dream

Last night I had a dream I was back at work. My attitude and focus were entirely different than when I was actually working for a living.  I was dressed very casually, my hair was wet and in a towel, I wore no makeup and my focus was on nothing.  I was just existing, calm, comfortable, with no clock ticking away in my head and no emotional reactions.  I was just peaceful and aware.

I was at a convention center and was to attend a meeting in a conference room there. I wandered into one of the rooms where someone was giving a presentation.  Wondering if I was in the correct room, I found I was a bit disoriented but not in the least bit apprehensive or nervous.  I couldn't make up my mind which chair I wanted to sit in so I just decided I would go back out into the hallway.  At that point I saw a woman friend I wanted to visit with so we sat down at a small table out in the foyer and chatted for quite some time.  Everyone around us was stopping by and telling us that the introductory meetings were over and now we were supposed to progress up the stairs to the first training meeting of the day.  I didn't care.  I simply kept chatting with my friend.  She mentioned, a few times, that we should probably get going but then we would dive deeper into our conversation.  I ordered some sort of drink with an orange slice in it and simply lived in the moment, enjoying my friend and sipping my lovely little cocktail.  Finally, she decided she really had to get to class and got up and left me.  I figured I should probably go too.  I knew that this training class was almost over and that we had chatted through most of it.  Again, I didn't care and had no anxiety over it. 
 
I stopped off at the bathroom before my journey to the training room and while washing my hands I noticed my hair was still in a towel.  I took the towel off and my hair had dried in a funky style with a huge cowlick in the back.  What to do? Ho-hum. I spent several minutes surveying my hair in the mirror. 

At that point, the hallways became flooded with the sound of chatter and the door to the bathroom opened and many women came in.  Training class was over. I didn't care nor did I have any feelings about it one way or the other.  I was busy fixing my hair. 

While employed, in real life, I found myself wishing for days where I could just do whatever I wanted, dress casually at work and totally flake out on going to any of the meetings.  Unfortunately, my military, mind-controlled existence had me in a state of constant compliance, my nerves sending messages for yet more adrenalin bursts every time I even had a thought of stepping outside the boundary lines of corporate expectation.  I would dream of being in a state of pure consciousness,  reach for the place of bliss and hope that I could catch even just a moment of its sensation.  But my mind, though out of breath and gasping for spiritual oxygen, would just run faster and faster on the illusory  hamster wheel, its left-brain knowing full well that doom was just one step away if I faltered. 

Many months ago, though I only had dreamed of what bliss might feel like, I did what any unruly, worn out hamster might do; I leaped from my wheel into the unknown.  Today I awaken and I wander about the house with my hair in a towel, no makeup and casual clothes.  When I review the schedule of events for the day; the errands, the chores, the job hunt and the blogs, I mix them up a bit. There is no schedule. I walk the dog, stop to take in deep breaths of fresh, non-recycled air, feel the beauty of the fall leaves in my heart and just live in a state of bliss.  When I come home from the walk, I might pick up the rake and build a few piles of leaves on the grass. In fact, I found myself still raking long after sun down last night.  I do what I feel at any given moment.  I let my current experience dictate my actions. Yes, I have become what our modern world might consider to be a genuine flake.  Hence no blog when I am too busy examining my hair in the mirror or drinking a silly orange-laced cocktail and chatting with a friend. Or if I just have nothing to say.  Yesterday I had nothing to say.  I was just too busy existing and experiencing and being what many hamsters might think of as a flake.  Happy wheel running, ya'll! 

What Was Your Image In the Office?

I'm going to reinvent my image.

While working at said company, I believe my image was conservative, friendly, honest and driven with a twist of raving bitch that would hiss through clenched teeth when a co-worker flapped their gums one too many times in my direction. So overall, I think I was pretty approachable.

These days I am left to spend large amounts of time alone with only my dog to observe me.  And she really doesn't care what my image is.  But I think I do.  Or at the very least, I think I want to.  So today I am going to reinvent how the world sees me.

Rather than be the blond, blue-eyed, innocent faced, non-threatening gal that most people see me as,  I think I will evolve into the vixen.  Why not paint my eyes dark, color my lips to give the illusion of exaggerated fullness and peer out from under a veil of sinister illusion? I will then go apply to be a waitress at a tavern and speak to no one but my customers.  And only when I take their drink order.  I will be mysterious and deep, intriguing and aloof.  Everyone will stare at me, the women will hate me and the men will fantasize about me.  I will take on a strut and swing my hips to and fro, swishing past all and leaving a scent of musky perfume that leaves every male's head spinning.  The air will vibrate with the muted screams of sex and old women will hold their hands to their hearts, their mouths open, aghast.  Old men, will chuckle and tap their canes, and reminisce of their younger days.  I will be the subject of teenage boy's dares and the envy of pre-teen girls.  The talk of the town, I will become the harlot that wives fear. Whilst in a crowd,  I will lick my lips slowly and never turn my head.  My eyes will survey my surroundings, looking each individual up and down in detail.  Rooms will go silent when I come through the door and the crowds will step back and part to allow me past.


And I will live in a small pink house, with black roses climbing the fence. The shimmering, tattered curtains will blow from the windows every season of the year and the crows will perch upon my roof and holler.   I will aerate the lawn with my stillettos, throw seed to the birds while wearing a see-through nightgown and water the flower garden in the nude.  There will be days when I will emerge from the front door, my hair teased straight up, my bra on backward and my underwear swinging from my arm.  People will turn their heads and rush their children past.

The whole town will be famous for me.  Tourists will come from near and from far to get a glimpse.  The town's people will erect an admission booth at the top of my street and cars will come by in steady streams from all over the world.  The economy will thrive and all will be fed and all will be good. 

And I will be happy, inside my own existence with no rules, no questions, no rights and no wrongs, in a state of total acceptance and bliss.

If only we all could just be who we are.  The world might just adjust and everything might come into balance and harmony.  Including the atmosphere of the corporate office.

So Much For Pretending To Be A Princess

When I first became unemployed I thought it might be a good time to catch up on all the activities that I enjoyed.  I figured, in between searching for jobs, I could live in a bit of a fairy-tale land and do things like get my nails done, apply and re-apply my make-up, bake cookies and overall just spend an hour or so a day pretending to be a princess.

What I have found is that I have busied myself with catching up with the organization of my finances, getting all the papers on my desk put into some sort of reasonable order and other tasks about home that have been put off because I was just 'too busy.' Additionally, it has given me valuable time to assist my aging parents. I could ad to the list but I think you get the picture.  I have been very busy.

With that said, I have discovered that it does not matter whether you are working for an employer or not, your personality is the same.  If you are prone to work diligently, you are prone to work diligently, no matter what task you take on and no matter if you work for yourself or for an employer or you are at home with time off. Between helping family and gluing all the pieces together that have fallen apart while I was employed, my days are full.

What I find interesting is not so much how I see my day unfolding but how other people see me. Oddly, I am receiving all kinds of random phone calls. Everyone from friends, to old clients wanting me to 'do something' for them. Apparently, it is assumed that I am sitting on my butt in front of the boob tube eating bon bons. Certainly these people aren't peering in my windows and if they were, they would see that bon bons are not on the menu and the T.V. is non-functional.

Curiously, they are all calling me from their vehicles while driving down the road. I too drive down the road and have answered their calls while doing so. But apparently, they visualize me submerged in a fragrant bubble bath with my pool boy at my side. Better yet, sitting erect at my desk, pencil in hand, awaiting their call with enthusiasm.

Further, these poor souls are not only reaching out to me in what appears to be desperation, it is apparent they have some considerable loss of cognitive ability.  Many of the people calling me are employed.  Assuming that most business owners hire people because they find them to be intelligent and capable, I am stumped as to why I am receiving these calls. They claim to not be able to solve the simplest of equations. The list of requests goes as follows:

1)Hi this is Jacob (name changed to protect the stupid) I need you to call me back and tell me the right 800 number to call for the extension of my unemployment benefits.  My thoughts?  I suppose it is the same number you called to get them in the first place.  Why do you think I would have any greater access to information than you do? 

2)I don't know what form to get from abc corporation so that I can do xyz!  Guess what?  Neither do I!  Why don't you dial their number instead of mine and ask them!  Get the information from them instead of whining at me in hopes I will do it for you! 

And last but not least, as I am driving down the road in the middle of an hour and a half commute to an appointment, I get this call from a friend who owns their own successful business and travels internationally on a regular basis:

3)Please help me.  I do not understand. (Because I don't want to right now) I am making reservations to fly to L.A. and it says $49 flight one way.  I do not know if I should buy one way or get a round trip.  Will you do it for me?
My response:  I am driving down the road.
Their response: I am driving on the freeway. I do not have time. You do it for me. I don't understand. 

I don't understand either! How the hell am I supposed to know if you are going down there to stay or returning home after your visit?  Additionally, do the math! What makes the most logical sense given your set up circumstances? 

See?  Loss of cognitive ability!

Now I'm sorry but since when am I anyone's personal travel agent, let alone their secretary?  Call someone else who does this for a living or at least someone who is sitting in front of their computer!  I'm in the frickin' car! Further, I fly twice per year.  You fly 5 or more times per year.  Who's advice would YOU take?

Look people.  I am unemployed, not volunteering for those too lazy and suddenly too stupid to handle their own lives. If I wanted to counsel people with lobotamies all day, I would work in a nut house. And if I wanted to be someone's personal assistant, I would apply to be one!

Right now, I want to be the princess or at the very least get the benefit of being unemployed which means not taking orders all day from stupid people. As far as I can tell, you are all capable of handling your own crap so stop mistaking my Juicy Couture handbag for a feces catcher. My unemployed calendar is entirely too full for me to follow the likes of your ass around all day, handling all of the shit you don't want to deal with.

When In Doubt-Relax and Ride The Wave

With so many American's unemployed, the unknown that the future holds is sometimes a bit frightening.  Peering over the edge of your life and not being able to see what's in store can become an obsession of sorts.  It can bring on feelings of helplessness, confusion and loss of control.  Yet the need to constantly be on the lookout both in front of and behind you, and wondering how deep the waters are that you are in, can send your mind into an endless cycle not unlike the daily hamster wheel that many corporations encourage us to remain on.  Run, run, run.....keep up, keep running, you're getting behind.  And if you get behind, your wheel will flip you right over backwards.  And honestly, who knows what that might feel like.  Darn scary, so let's keep running.

Not knowing what's on the horizon or even which way to turn is like being lost at sea, disoriented and without radar.  The sensation of smallness is overwhelming and the anxiety immobilizing.  We are so accustomed to having a daily focus and knowing what the plan is for that day that when faced with the void of the unknown and freedom to choose, we panic.

The best thing to do when faced with the feelings of fright that we all may be feeling is to embrace them.  Rather than spend time looking over the rail of your life and wondering how much water you could potentially take on, just go with it.  Lean into what scares you, relax, take a breath and adjust your sails. 

Life is as unpredictable as the sea.  The waters that are smooth as ice can radically change with the shift of the wind. Your boat can keel over and the spray can come at you in the gallons.  But rather than panic and hold on for dear life, screaming where no one can hear you, take a look at your sails.  The wind may be coming so fast and the waters so rough that it's best to just take them down for a bit, hunker down and ride out the wave. After all, we are built to remain quite stable on the roughest of seas. Relax.  Smooth sailing is just ahead.

Time

Back in the days of rushing out the door to rush around all day to rush back home to rush and cook dinner to rush to fold the laundry to rush to pay the bills to rush in a few circles, just for the sake of rushing, to collapsing into bed....I always wished I had 'more time.'

What is time, exactly?  A specific  location on the place of a clock?  A series of events that occur, therefore passing time?  If you can pass time, can you pass it at the dinner table?  "Please pass the time." "We have wasted too much time, therefore we are out of time.  I'm sorry.  The time has passed.  It is too late to pass the time."  Is time something I can wait for?  "I'm not going to do it until the time is right." Does that mean that time can be right or wrong? It seems we have all kinds of ways to describe time.  The right time, the wrong time, bad timing, the time of day, the time of night, we don't have time, yes, we have some time, or a little time or it's about time. I don't know about you but each glance at my clock gives me a different time. And if I look at a clock for another geographic location across the world it is now an entirely different time. Does that mean that I am having a good time? Or is this what they mean by the time of my life?

Now that I am not checking the time throughout my day, I realize there is no such thing as time.  We all talk about it, want more of it, wish we hadn't wasted it, hope there is enough of it, but there is really no such thing.  There is now.  There is what is. We are here.  That is it.

So in reflecting back to when I dreamed of having more time, I realize now, I don't want time.  Time is not real.  It is only a place on a clock. An ever moving, ever changing spot on the face of my clock. It took years for me to realize this. And lots of  "free time."

Cheap Thrills

Rolling over to the buzz of a clock is commonplace for most of us. It is ingrained into us from an early age.  It's what we do.  It's what we live by.  The clock.

I never realized the relationship I had with my own alarm clock until I was unemployed.  When I think back to my working days, I can recall cursing the ominous click before the blare of the radio flooded the bedroom in the wee hours of the morning.  Ugh. Another day on planet earth.  Time to get up and do it all over again. Each day the same scenario would go through my head as I hit the snooze button.  "OK. I'm only going to hit it once.  Then I'm going to get up and get going. I can't be late. I will feel better about myself if I just get up now.  I have to get up anyway, so why not be early? Why not get ready at a leisurely pace?" By the time the thoughts had completed their cycle of running through my head, the radio would be back on, chattering about the latest world crisis.  Smack! I'd hit the snooze button once again.  This would go on and on.  Like a game I would challenge the clock to tempt me again and again until I was in a state of living on the edge, just breaths away from the very last possible minute I could get up, get showered, ready and be out the door, and still be on time. Click...Smack, click.. smack, click...smack! Click!  Awwwk...it's late!  I overslept! In a panicked frenzy I would leap from the bed, run to the bathroom, jump into the shower, toothbrush in hand, and start my morning routine. Cursing myself for getting into this position, once again, I would question my own underlying motives. Out of the shower and into the bedroom, the dressing crisis would begin.  Awwwk!  I still need to dry my hair!  I would dress, do the hair and grab my makeup bag.  Out the door I would run and inevitably there would be frost on my car's windshield that required scraping.  After much ado with the preparation of the windshield, I would begin my commute, putting on my makeup at each stoplight and down straight stretches of the freeway.  Amazingly, I would cruise in the office door, dressed, together and ready for my day, on average, 17 minutes early.

These days I get my cheap thrills exactly the way they sound; cheap.  Since I am on a budget of sorts, I find the simplest things give me the greatest pleasure.  I like to set my alarm for 5:30 am and when it goes into its habitual click mode, I roll over, by-pass smacking the snooze button and give it a click right back, turning it off.  I roll over and I smile. Ahhh to awaken when I feel like it.  It brings me great joy.

I'm wondering if,  when I return to the workplace, I will once again resume the dysfunctional relationship with my clock and the dangerous habit of applying makeup while driving, or if I will count my blessings, knowing  that I was given the cheap thrill of awakening at my leisure, day after day, for several months on end.

I Don't Look Like Holly Madison.....& Other Devastating Realizations

Working eight to five, five days per week has its advantages.  Not only do we gain access to thousands of dollars every year, we are given the wonderful opportunity to rush out the door without a healthy breakfast.

Because we have become such fabulous time-management specialists, we establish new processes for fulfilling our morning appetite and managing the commute. Due to our brilliant skills in design and measuring effectiveness, we have linked a quick detour to our regular morning drive, through the unnamed espresso establishment,  which not only assists us in ingesting our daily dose of muffins and caffeine, it cuts 10.75 minutes off of our morning routine. Thus allowing us that much more sleep. Additionally, it feeds our selves, that have become so lonely from overwork, something of warmth that triggers a feeling of comfort in the brain. It's absolutely genius!

 In reflecting back on my work days, another exciting discovery has come forth.  Being employed with a full schedule provides a lovely opportunity to exist in a state of total body denial.  Awakening, in my mind, as a goddess each and every day, I showered and dressed my 21 year old body and strutted off to work; looking mighty fine as I did, by the way.  Well, you'll never guess what.  This morning I caught a glimpse at the reflection in the bathroom mirror while drying off from bathing.  I had one of those tuh duh moments.  I do not look like Holly Madison.  In fact, I look more like Goldie Hawn; two of her.

Somewhere along my morning commute, I must have shoved 47 too many (not one too many) muffins across my greedy, sucking lips and as a result I have morphed into a vertical wigwam of sorts.  I'm not exactly certain when it actually occurred but it did indeed and if I'd known back then that there were two of me, I would have left one home to clean house while the other was out making a living!

So, here I am, middle-aged, overweight and unemployed.  I prefer denial but facing reality is the beginning of a true journey of discovery.  In my case I have discovered that my imaginary friend is not my imagination after all and that she is lazy.  I have been carting her around with me for many months now and honestly, it's been exhausting.

On a lighter note (hee hee), I am what I have become and that includes skills, confidence, abilities, creativity, drive and let's not forget, an expert in time-saving techniques.  I like my skill-set.  It is user-friendly, vast and employable.  The fact that I am twice the volume I originally started with can be temporary, or at the very least a fascinating science experiment, but my skills will be with me forever.

Take a look at yourself, naked or not.  Maybe you've developed a furrowed brow, a gray hair or a limp in your gait. As you observe the person in the mirror, choose to look a bit further but not before you take off the mask of denial.  Be certain that along with those traits, you've developed unmatched skills that will serve you for a lifetime.

See yourself for what and who you are.  You are a perfect you with your own unique skill-set, your own unique ideas and your own unique voice which is waiting to be heard.  And the world is ready to listen.