Change is hard.

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I’ve just spent almost my entire quiet time this morning on Facebook, looking at (and trying to figure out) all the changes.

Change is hard, especially when you’re 39 years old. Can I get an Amen? :-) Just going through a list in my mind, here. Wow, a whole lot of changes for me in the last year or so. Incredible. Changes in my personal and professional life, changes in my family’s lives…

Changes are supposed to teach us something. My theory is that change is life’s growing pains. Remember when you were a kid and you’d be lying in bed, and your legs would ache for no apparent reason? That always happened to me (although not much after the 5th grade, heh). My mom would bring in some baby aspirins and tell me that she thought I was just having growing pains. The biggest issue is what’s on the other side of a growing pain. Most times, it’s wisdom, increased productivity, perspective.

Other times, it’s crap. HA

What are your changes doing to you? What have you learned from them? I covet your thoughts.

Since I’ve janked around on Facebook so long, I’m late for the shower. But it’s the day before the day before Friday, so yay!

BTTH XV

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Ya know…

What do you think would happen if I just decided that I didn’t want to take care of business? For instance, how about if I didn’t show up for a concert? Or if I blew off going to a gig to accompany a student and left him hanging with nothing? I’d never get away with it, that’s what. Yet, people apparently do just that on a regular basis.

I trusted one “professional” person to make sure the escrow account on my mortgage is overfunded (and of course, I pay extra to make it so), and for the second straight tax billing period, I look at my statement to see huge late fees because I didn’t have a sufficient balance to make my escrow payment. So I call them. AGAIN. I say, politely, “Um, remember the last two times we dealt with this? Could you check your records and see where I paid extra so this would be taken care of?”

Then I get the “Oh, yes. I see that here. Well, we have to charge the penalty this time, but we’ll be sure to adjust it for next time.” The double-talk, the end-runs around me, the quoting of rules and guidelines that make no sense: they love to lay it on in hopes that if they baffle you with enough BS, you’ll just say OK and go away. That’s about when I lost it last night. Dragging home at 9 p.m. after a decidedly less-than-stellar rehearsal which followed a day full of bad news on one front or another, only to find this familiar friend staring me in the face — it was about all I could take. Mama Fink went on the warpath. And I have the 3.5 hours of sleep to show for it.

The absolute bottom line is this: they don’t listen. You can explain your issue to them as if they were toddlers, after which they puke out hollow epithets like, “Yes, I’ll notate that in your account,” and “It’s all taken care of!” — then they forget they ever heard of you.

Someday, I am going to just let stuff like this go. Meh, it’s just inefficient people. No biggy…

Welp, today is not that day. BOOT to the head.

:P

What, again?

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Monday again? Arg. Where do the weekends go? The way of the dinosaur, alas.

Or should I say, YARRRRR!? It’s Rousseau’s birthday today, which always coincides with TLaP Day. Avast, me hearties.

It’s also the week of the County Fair. There is some unhealthy food in my future, as well as walking around with the Js, looking at animules and maybe taking a ride on the merry-go-round.

Rousseau. He’s 12. That makes him a senior citizen, like the Thriller. And RD. :P

This week, I’m going to test-drive the new Fanci-Fill cake pan I got for my birthday, since I’m responsible for providing the cakey goodness for Bob’s birthday feast, coming up on the 2nd. Hmmm, ideas. I found one that has yellow cake with chocolate ice cream filling and chocolate icing. That one might be the ticket. Or maybe chocolate cake with mint chocolate chip ice cream filling and cream cheese icing. Or perhaps: both. The possibilities, the possibilities…

Happy Monkday, fiends. Get bizzy!

RNF L

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Wow, my 50th RNF post. Well, actually, most of my posts are just errant neurons. But here is what is falling out of my melon.

Something cool:*

So not good for you, and so fantastic looking. I wonder if Seamus might like them for his upcoming birfday…

  • Do NOT go here. :P (Caveat: some are PG-13 — and the views expressed therein are those of the writers, and do not necessarily represent the views of Rockin’ the Bourgeoisie or of any other individual or corporate entity — but many are downright brilliant.)
  • My first tap rehearsal is Saturday. Oy.
  • I get the Js tomorrow night for the first time in forever. I also get to see Mavis for the very first time since I brought her home from the hospital on Saturday, 3 September. My horrendous cold (which I am now officially done with, thank the gods) didn’t allow me to visit. Giving her that muckity muck could have been life-threatening in her condition.
  • Oscar Wilde said, “Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative.” Lucky for me, eh?
  • This is a good idea. Of course, the Cloud is even better.
  • Speaking of the Cloud…my school district finally went with the Google Apps suite. Fantastic. My IT gal? I worship her. (If you’re reading this, Sparky — you get a big hunk of chocolate very soon)
OK dolls, I’m late for the shower. Happy Almost-Finkday.
*Recipe here