It’s time…..

Went into work today with my return to work note. I feel that returning to work 4 hours a day 5 times a week is the best for me. It is what is healthiest for both my mental and emotional well being. I also do not want to jump back in with both feet. I am quite content to work in customer service or cashiering. Reassess after I have been back for awhile.
I was scared to go in and talk to my boss. Very scared. At first I sent off a message to a friend who I discuss everything with.  Than I told the girls. Also explaining to them that I had snarled at T this morning. Than I talked to V.  Told her that despite all my bravery that I was scared shitless to talk to him. I was afraid that he was going to want to talk about what happened and I did not want to revisit it. That was a bad place for me. And that I was worried that I might cry.
First V assures me that losing it on T was totally normal. Kids do not listen to us and it is damn frustrating. And she is right. I had to ask him three or four times to get in the bathroom and brush his teeth. As a matter of fact, I grabbed him by his arm and pushed him into the bathroom. This after snarling at him about the shower this morning. He stank. Badly. But he was annoyed that I did not wake him up at 6. He tried to push back. I pounded on the bed that he was going to shower because he stunk. We went back and forth. He ended up showering.
V reminded me that we were the parents. We made the choices and rules. They had to listen and follow them. She said the right thing at the right time. Now instead of using ‘because I said so’ I am going to pull out the choice and rule law. Way to go V. Coming up with a great way to explain to my child and all children why they must listen to their parents.
Than she addressed my fear about crying. Assured me that it was okay. And to remember that our boss is human too.
I felt so good after talking to her. Calm. There were some twinges in my stomach but nothing overwhelming to me.
Now fast forward to arriving at work. I was terrified to walk in there. I sat in the car and said my affirmations. I shot off a few quick messages of and got out of the car. First I had to drop my prescription  off at the pharmacy and than I went to the front and had boss paged. Gave him the note and he read it. We were going upstairs to discuss my return.
I waited outside his office. Flicked through my phone. And than he came up and I followed him in.
I did it though. I was calm. The butterflies in my stomach disappeared. I looked him the eye and maintained eye contact. I had been wanting to come back slowly and had been going to suggest customer service or cashiering shifts. So it was very easy to agree when he made the suggestion. He wants to observe me. I need to regain his trust. The trust of the other supervisors and staff.
I told him that by far, my well being, emotionally and mentally are what is important to me. That I no longer was going to look down the road but will remain in the present. And than he suggested that I may decide that I did not want to remain as the lead supervisor. At first, I think my reaction was knee jerk when I said to him that I could still do it.
This is food for thought. I have learned a lot about myself in the last three months. And like the butterfly breaking free from the cocoon I am spreading my wings in the sunshine. Ready to soar.
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Go Me!

I feel like I need to say something. I am not sure what it is that I want to say though. Thoughts keep flashing through my head. Not one stops to let me latch on. My inspiration seems to have fallen short. Truthfully I do know what my problem is. I am unsure of how it is that I am going to deal with it. I keep starting to build scenerios in my head and than stopping. This is a dangerous road for me to go down because it starts small and spirals. Every time this happens, I tell myself to not go there. I do not know what the conversations are going to bring. And no matter how much I plot and plan, I do not know what the other person is going to say.
I do not want to return to work. I have been in Customer Service since I was 17 years old. As a waitress, a receptionist, rental and kitchen supplies, taking orders in an industrial setting, and for the last 14 years have worked for the same company in a variety of positions. I am working at a job that does not satisfy me. That does not challenge me so I need to create challenges. I fell into Customer Service by default. It is something that I am good at. Talking to people. Welcoming them. Remembering them. This was not where I was planning to be. A career in writing, that is where I saw myself but the path sorta veered out to the right, crossed to the left and has finally straightened out again.
I recently wrote about how T believes in me. It is time to start to believe in myself and my writing. I recently took the plunge and submitted a poem to the New Reader Magazine. I have mentioned this before and as I type this it has been exactly a month since I sent the poem in. I patiently await a response and am prepared for anything. Rejection is what I am expecting. Not because I do not think that the poem I submitted is not good but because it is my first submission anywhere.
This passed weekend I had the weirdest inspiration. And I wrote a poem that my baby bro told me was pretty good. He was not sure how one goes about measuring a poem as he has never read one before. Which let me know that it actually must be good because this is a man who reads absolutely nothing if he is able to get away with it. (It is due to my wonderful SIL that my niece and nephews are such voracious readers.) I had another poem that fit with this one so I put them together and submitted them.
Of course last night after submitting them I had an ‘omg what the hell have I done? I am so pretentious. Who am I to write about this material?’ I sent a message to K who of course talked me down. She is actually the one who encouraged me to submit Moral Bankruptcy  in the first place. The other is called Subvert. Two brand new and unpublished anywhere poems. And now I wait. Again I am fully expecting to be rejected. I submitted to The New Yorker.
Who am I to do this? That is what is going through my head over and over again. How could I have the audacity, an unknown writer, to submit to one of the most prestigous magazines out there? And in my voice I can hear my bro telling me over and over again to jump. Mom is behind him saying JDI-just do it. And most of all there is T cheering the loudest with ‘Mom you can do this. You can do anything.’
I am moving out of my comfort zone. I am proud of the poetry that I have written. Proud of the poetry that I have submitted. Poetry that as of yet has only been read by K and my bro. Proud of myself.  I am putting myself out there. For good or bad, I have done it.  Go me!

He believes

Belief: Confidence in someone
T has that in spades for me. Way more than I think that I have in myself and my writing.
Thursday I allowed him to stay home in the morning as we had a dentist appointment at 11:50. His tooth has been bothering him. Every time he laid down to go to bed, during the day, suddenly there would be a sharp pain from his jaw to his ear. I was worried that my insurance was not in place and that I was going to end up paying an arm and a leg, which at this time is not an easy task for me. Bonus, not only was my insurance in place but up to the first $200 was 100% covered and everything after that was 60% off. Well damn but isn’t that awesome. (His two appointments were covered within the $200 limit and a $15 balance yet!)
Thursday was a weird day for me. I spent a lot of time with weepy eyes. At the time, I did not know what it was that was bothering me. I do know now however it is not something I am ready to openly blog about. V told me that having ‘leaky’ days, as she calls them, are perfectly fine to have. Yet my mood had not plummeted. I was still having a good good day. Even with all those tears.
T is a little strange and I say that with absolute pride because so am I. He was pumped that he was going to see the dentist. Quite a change from when he was little. The tooth had previously been filled last year. It had been a deep cavity and T chose to have a silver filling put in. Now though, either the tooth had chipped or part of the filling had come off.  Now as an aside, my mouth is not filled with silver fillings but back in my day (making myself sound as though I am 145) that was the only type of filling we could get. None of this fancy white filling like these young whipper snappers get these days. But white is stronger than silver in the filling wars. When he discovered that he was going to have to come back and get a filling the next day T was super exciting. (No word of a lie when we returned yesterday morning he announced to the office at large how much he loved having his teeth filled. I am still terrified of it.)
A white filling was required as Dr. K had to remove all the old filling and refill. She did not charge me extra for the white one which was yet another bonus. But that was a Friday bonus and I am writing about Thursday. After both appointments T did try his darndest to get me to allow him to stay home using the arguements that a) his jaw may start to hurt in the middle of the afternoon on Thursday and b) the frozen tongue syndrome on Friday. He went to school both days.
I had my revelation as we were talking on the way to school Thursday about why I was weeping. T of course had the answer for me. Just Quit. Don’t do it anymore. I had to explain that it did not quite work that way. That I have responsibilities to fulfill. T was silent for a moment.
‘Mom maybe they will hire you and than you can stay home and write full time.’
I was a little shocked as it seemed like a full change in conversation. And than it dawned on me that he was talking New Reader Magazine where I had submitted my poem.  I laughed a little and explained to him while that would be a dream come true, that that was not how things worked. There was no way that they were going to hire me to write full time. But I lived in that fantasy world for a brief moment.
‘Well mom, than you need to write a long book. One with 25 chapters. You will get published and can stay at home and write.’
I smiled and told T that that was what I was doing with Juliette’s Journey. Working title only. And he nodded and sat back.
I was sitting at home after dropping him off when it struck me how confident T was. He made the announcements, the one about the magazine hiring me and publishing my book, as if they were already done deals. He does not have fears like I do. He does not mistrust the words that I write as I sometimes do. He looked at me and he only saw that I was going to do this. No matter what. And that was when I realized that T really believed in me. He did not even consider that I may fail at writing. He believes in this dream with all his heart.
I realize I have a lot of work to do. I have to live up to his expectations of what I am capable of. And I do not want to let him down. I always tell T that he can do whatever he wants to do. If all I do is talk about my dreams yet never chase them, I am saying one thing while showing him another. And I want him to reach for the moon and stars. I want him to dream big and go for it. He is amazing. He is smart. He is a great looking kid. And I need to be the one to show him how to Jump.

I Jumped

The other day my brother sent me a video of Steve Harvey talking about talent and jumping.

A friend of mine who is a writer sent me an open call for submissions for New Reader Magazine. I have been going back and forth about submitting with them. I read and reread the submission requirement. And than read again. It did not say in what format they would accept the submission.

I hemmed and hawed over sending an email. Checked with a couple of friends who have done submissions as to what the standard was. I use Evernote and Google Docs. I sat here last evening and once more went to the site to again reread the requirements.

I did it though. I sent off an email and text my brother that I had done it. He wanted to know how it felt to jump. I laughed and had to explain I had only done a small jump. Now I needed to wait for the response. Figured that I would not hear from them until today. My email notification went off a few times but I ignored it. Than I didn’t and I looked.

They had responded! Although they preferred MS Word or PDF they would accept Google Docs. (Turns out that I could send as an email attachment and it converts to PDF.)

One of the requirements is that the work be unpublished any where else. And I wrote a poem yesterday that is different again from what I usually write. Mind you I don’t really have a category. I chewed on my thumb as I hemmed and hawed again. You can sense a theme here can you not?

T was here for the night so I asked him if I could read him the poem. He said sure mom. And listened to me. Than asked me if I had indeed made that up. I said yes I had written it. Oh, well it sounds like something from the 1700, 1800’s you know when they had like dragons and things.

First off yes I wrote the poem. Secondly dragons were not real. Do I wish that they were you bet that I do. However they are not. And it sounds nothing like the poetry of the 17 or 1800’s.

Still uncertain I asked him what he thought of it besides the above items. And he assured me that it was good.

The second requirement. A 50-150 word author biography. So I wrote one. And agonized over it because I don’t know what to say about myself. So after I wrote it I again went to my sounding board. T. And he assured me that it was perfect.

I wrote the email. I was very short and to the point. Not because I had nothing to say but  because I either over say things or present them in a flowery manner. Got it all ready and sat here looking at the send button.

Finally I looked over at T and asked if he wanted to come and watch me push the send button. He looked at me as though I might be a little weird but came and sat next to me. And I pressed the send button.

I am putting myself out there. This is not the norm for me. And now I wait.

I jumped. And my brother is the one who gave me the courage to do so.

****Brother of mine if you read this the above statement does not entitle you to any bouts of the ‘I told you so’ crowing that I just know I will hear.  Thank you Bro.