These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
I don't actually know her. In fact, I've never met her. The two of them met long after he and I broke up and he left town. We haven't spoken in years. Therefore I've been following their tale as though it was the continuing story of Peyton Place, thanks to the fact that I never really loved him. I was fond of him, I was enthralled by him physically, I bear him no ill will and wish him well, but because of the 12 year ago difference between us, I knew I was never going to be his "baby mama" and so could enjoy our relationship for what it was -- a sweet, sexually charged interlude.
Anyway, about 8 months ago, she started posting about how he's wasn't treating her as she felt she deserved to be treated. Yes, they have a now two-year-old boy together, and they have many shared interests, but he (1) wants no other children and (2) isn't as attentive to her feelings as she'd like. She was especially upset that he never buys her flowers on their son's birthday.
I also suspect he hasn't been faithful. Not because of anything she's written, but because I know him. The woman he was involved with back when we were sleeping together kept insisting she was ready for a wedding and babies. I think our unlikely fling was a response to the pressure he was feeling. My guess is there's probably another "stress reliever" in his life.
They are now living apart. I don't know if divorce is certain (and I don't know his side of it because he understands how to establish privacy settings on Facebook!) but she took him off her info page and is asking her friends who can help her maintain her car now. She also thanks her friends for putting up with her these past few months.
Knowing him as I do, and seeing the slice of life she shows me, is all so fascinating to me. I think that one of these days I'll take a busman's holiday and turn this post into a novel.
I want to be more efficient/effective at turning desire into action and results, weightwise. I gave blood today over lunch -- a noble activity to be sure -- but that means today is a day I didn't work out. I must make myself do a little time on the treadmill after work.
"If it's going up to the 12th floor, we'd better use small words." So said my boss at our team status this morning. The 12th floor is where the Powers That Be congregate when the clients review our creative. My boss is frustrated because he's actually been hands-on for this particular project, the first time in a long time, and he's not used to all the changes I've been dealing with week in/week out for the past few years.
But I, too, am frustrated -- frustrated that he said this in open forum. I'm afraid his attitude ("they're heathens when it comes to creative and we have to dumb it down for them") will bleed through to the rest of the team. And that would be a bad thing. For while we all like to fancy ourselves creative geniuses, the fact is, we perform a service. One that our clients pay a pretty penny for.
Imagine you take a shirt to the dry cleaner and you specify "no starch." The kid behind the counter asks, "Really? No starch? You sure?" You repeat, once again, "No starch." How would you feel if the kid starts acting as though you're stupid and you don't know a damn thing about the shirts you wear or the service you're paying for?
I have a healthy ego and I don't like seeing my work watered down. I often believe the changes they make weaken my work and its ability to produce results for them. But I also want to keep this job. Plus, there's a moral imperative here. It's THEIR money. We work FOR them. They deserve to get what they ask for, even if we don't agree.