tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57977551017335375152024-03-27T00:48:07.473-05:00Parenthetically SpeakingMrs. Boneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11292877147514307655noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5797755101733537515.post-16787736497049881692024-03-09T00:02:00.001-06:002024-03-09T00:02:33.291-06:00Dim Lights, Thick Smoke (And Loud, Loud Music)<p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Greetings, y'all! ππ</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">How 'bout ya? π</span> <span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Welcome to March (that seems to be on a greased rail)! </span></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUN-AHZZHVzN4CP-YiyH8xYF_QJ5L1CSEXFFNHYplPV8dON1xKYaGrTCo6oTapPvPxvVKkbxyQ6-EnvM96JUlAU8wj4uEUfwmh0h5OKJUuTH3DJSa9N4_84hdBMLCAzuIz_WJiAWbuh0EiPDT4rEFdSNlgqfni5IO9eh2S0ZPmtXZIUf2fQb2pXh6U9Aw/s1260/high-speed-trains-ta05-wide.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="1260" height="152" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUN-AHZZHVzN4CP-YiyH8xYF_QJ5L1CSEXFFNHYplPV8dON1xKYaGrTCo6oTapPvPxvVKkbxyQ6-EnvM96JUlAU8wj4uEUfwmh0h5OKJUuTH3DJSa9N4_84hdBMLCAzuIz_WJiAWbuh0EiPDT4rEFdSNlgqfni5IO9eh2S0ZPmtXZIUf2fQb2pXh6U9Aw/s320/high-speed-trains-ta05-wide.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I realize the thumbnail for this post will be a blurry train, which doesn't go with the title, but oh, well. π</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I've started and deleted this post a couple times, trying to figure out how to talk about how playing music and singing has been such an important part of my life, and how much I <i>really</i> miss doing it. Maybe this will be a "third time's the charm" effort, but I'll still probably end up sounding like one of those "woo-woo", breathy, "oh-so-spiritual", "it's an <i>experience</i>" people (which, honestly, I kinda <i>am</i> on some things). π Anyway...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I've pretty much immersed myself in music for the past month, and during that time, while all those memories came flooding back, I realized that I haven't really listened to much music for pleasure in a long time. It's been probably 5 or 6 years now since I've sat with headphones on my ears and just filled my head with songs. That's really kind of sad, thinking about it. I almost always have a song running through my mind, but it's not the same as <i>listening</i>.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBl8Vo5DfT-eot28_ee-cCRkLje92p6gZli4kPeRmsBlQTtryC5wfLN-NrroyEYTE8YTFiEzkefDW0vcl8vLRrH7IJYOyv5fvkzdH5cKVH3VcInijKzq7lmnWxTW9rzZiZ9oFmFAPTkDhyaeukokKikVx0WYshCO7d-LLtu2jdaRgAGfSPZU9l9el461c/s1920/listening%20with%20headphones.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="1920" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBl8Vo5DfT-eot28_ee-cCRkLje92p6gZli4kPeRmsBlQTtryC5wfLN-NrroyEYTE8YTFiEzkefDW0vcl8vLRrH7IJYOyv5fvkzdH5cKVH3VcInijKzq7lmnWxTW9rzZiZ9oFmFAPTkDhyaeukokKikVx0WYshCO7d-LLtu2jdaRgAGfSPZU9l9el461c/w201-h201/listening%20with%20headphones.jpg" width="201" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The other thing I haven't done much of is singing. Or thinking about songs I'd like to sing. Or figuring out arrangements for songs I'd like to sing. Between life happenings and covid, the part of me that <i>loves</i> to do those things got pushed back into the corner to gather dust. I'd <i>like</i> to get that part of my life back.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ZmP9IMFvfn_1kOt-a6T5QmutGynlt8HBK45YwXb0QgYcooOWwKhJCT9TK22Ed3b4NNPw39NP7-h8kLUvBo7DECLxJ3QMc5TURzY756glEZ0q_G7SNr_lo8vwLr5y5jE-BJ60oppHFLqBQYDCPY_bNeNnRbqIBj_7VRYWZk7EfKGL6X4z8ieJ4S4kxkY/s582/me%20singing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="367" data-original-width="582" height="202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ZmP9IMFvfn_1kOt-a6T5QmutGynlt8HBK45YwXb0QgYcooOWwKhJCT9TK22Ed3b4NNPw39NP7-h8kLUvBo7DECLxJ3QMc5TURzY756glEZ0q_G7SNr_lo8vwLr5y5jE-BJ60oppHFLqBQYDCPY_bNeNnRbqIBj_7VRYWZk7EfKGL6X4z8ieJ4S4kxkY/s320/me%20singing.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><i>Me & Jeff LeBlanc in 2016 at Artmosphere in Lafayette, LA. The song was "Summertime", and it was a moment. I also had hair then. π</i></span><br /><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I'm planning to pull out my songbook and work up some arrangements, and maybe do a little home recording. I don't have anything fancy to work with, but I'll make do with what I have. π</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp6KI8hGvWaHHorXm2vgunKQsMogy55SvkUEVkKzvtiyG1HX7n_ecNykVtNdidr1MlKaQNUCQQQzBCcY09kNj6J6IY5DQqTLCq7tlfgX8wK3GwxgbP2wRoe0Fh3cYu0lluoPITdxl1KvYkEWsdJmBJE5WKEspPdKZ-pZt-STaocKzqTQvQjibrGavomBs/s373/tape%20recorder.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="373" data-original-width="373" height="169" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp6KI8hGvWaHHorXm2vgunKQsMogy55SvkUEVkKzvtiyG1HX7n_ecNykVtNdidr1MlKaQNUCQQQzBCcY09kNj6J6IY5DQqTLCq7tlfgX8wK3GwxgbP2wRoe0Fh3cYu0lluoPITdxl1KvYkEWsdJmBJE5WKEspPdKZ-pZt-STaocKzqTQvQjibrGavomBs/w169-h169/tape%20recorder.jpg" width="169" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><i>Note: I don't have an old-school tape recorder or cassettes. I do have a smartphone and a recording app, however. π</i></span></div><br /><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I've spent a lot of time in "Bayou Self", both before and after covid, and while it helps with my creativity, like when I'm working on arrangements or learning new songs, there's something missing when it comes to performing. What's missing is the <i>collaboration</i> that happens when musicians get together and join their separate parts into something beautiful that reaches out and touches the listeners. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">This may sound contradictory coming from a singer, but I'm really not one who wants all the attention on myself. What <i>really</i> lights my fire and gives me the motivation to give the best of what I have to give is performing with others. I've had the opportunity to sit in with top-notch musicians, and I can only describe the experience as <i>magical</i>. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I could go on and on, waxing poetic about the wonderment of making music with likeminded people, but I'll spare you, dear reader. π What I <i>will</i> say is that it's been a dream of mine, and it took me a long time to get past my fears and find my voice. I got a small taste, and it was even more wonderful than I had imagined it could be. The only real comparison I have is finding the love of your life and feeling <i>complete</i>. Making music with others is a notch lower than that. π </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I was <i>almost</i> in reach of achieving my dream, but evidently the time wasn't right (or the circumstances weren't right), because when I reached out, the answer was "No."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjogyXL-nb1yHPHlpr6pgTpVuYm-YxPzRXQWfVD_VkpQEcrE16eeOAZ4SDu5f15FrN2ypXc7Pm1vuMWdycw-L5fog-6MlSmlfMn0mJmJLNkrSFB0vqsp0WCN_SjBxi1obKkbFwyVxNwZYZGLqHwWjDRg4Qqvtkuf396cjcpQ6gZ-islTdaazjyKgmmqkq4/s471/bugs%20bunny%20no.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="464" data-original-width="471" height="174" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjogyXL-nb1yHPHlpr6pgTpVuYm-YxPzRXQWfVD_VkpQEcrE16eeOAZ4SDu5f15FrN2ypXc7Pm1vuMWdycw-L5fog-6MlSmlfMn0mJmJLNkrSFB0vqsp0WCN_SjBxi1obKkbFwyVxNwZYZGLqHwWjDRg4Qqvtkuf396cjcpQ6gZ-islTdaazjyKgmmqkq4/w177-h174/bugs%20bunny%20no.jpg" width="177" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I'd be lying if I said I didn't take it personally at the time. I've since come to understand that it wasn't <i>totally</i> about my abilities (or any perceived lack thereof), but it still stings a little. I did pull back quite a bit, and of course the covid lockdowns put a huge damper on live music for a while, and when things started opening back up, I had other things going on in my life that kept me away from the scene. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I haven't given up on my dream, although I <i>have</i> adjusted my horizons a bit. I don't need or want fame and fortune (and let's be real, here - I'm not young any more), just a few musicians who want to play and sing some songs together and make musical magic happen. β«πβ«</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Be blessed, and be a blessing! βπππ</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Megan</span></div><p></p>Mrs. Boneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11292877147514307655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5797755101733537515.post-31127629441677101852024-02-29T18:30:00.009-06:002024-02-29T18:30:54.335-06:00Don't Know What You Got ('Til It's Gone)<p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Greetings, y'all! ππ</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Here we are again, fixing to close out another month. ππ₯³ February has simultaneously flown by and creeped along (how it does that is a mystery). It's been an <i>interesting</i> month, for sure. π</span> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoQUd-69cpztdSrI1Ln_6V7hAlsQw4chxnzQmDBaG0gTebaBpZKGspO_s7rFC4wdWdELGMG1HoXdtmmLyiWmEHWVjTBNBGRtdDZZOYbkFvjPmE-QqyWvv-tLPPpXE3AHFSerpYYiJNSUIaKI5cYVrsJp7REJgFVoaw11xDl2yVIIFn0fA1xCbpsswGgJ0/s276/interesting%20times.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="276" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoQUd-69cpztdSrI1Ln_6V7hAlsQw4chxnzQmDBaG0gTebaBpZKGspO_s7rFC4wdWdELGMG1HoXdtmmLyiWmEHWVjTBNBGRtdDZZOYbkFvjPmE-QqyWvv-tLPPpXE3AHFSerpYYiJNSUIaKI5cYVrsJp7REJgFVoaw11xDl2yVIIFn0fA1xCbpsswGgJ0/s1600/interesting%20times.jpg" width="276" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I was "going through it" in my last post, and I'm relieved to say that I made it through to the other side. π There's still some work to do, but I'm in a much better place now than I was a couple weeks ago. The heaviest of heavy lifting is done. π</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Since I got a formal ADHD diagnosis and began treatment, my "journey" on the path of self-improvement (and self-discovery) seems to have hit the fast track in some ways. Without all the mental distractions getting in the way, I've been able to sort through stuff and figure out what's important and what can be either back-burnered or discarded. It's been enlightening, to say the least. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Overall, I'm not unhappy with how my life has gone so far. Of course, there are things I wish I had done differently, but looking at the big picture, I've been incredibly blessed, and I have very few regrets. </span></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUoTsa-iHlKlZ-uztheyBh92zgd4_14rvM-CQfzovtOY8ZungvS_tQ9JSyLLrUN0AboZNG8Y-ar-_wXUZebhR4OYZDTtc2H0ZyCp9JXQ5Braz56rR5IIK3hYG8hmUOgfuC29jm39MySgJf5hp5fw64HV_JScsyMXZKytqbnK1GR4CkgYY6X0wYILw25co/s660/egrets.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="495" data-original-width="660" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUoTsa-iHlKlZ-uztheyBh92zgd4_14rvM-CQfzovtOY8ZungvS_tQ9JSyLLrUN0AboZNG8Y-ar-_wXUZebhR4OYZDTtc2H0ZyCp9JXQ5Braz56rR5IIK3hYG8hmUOgfuC29jm39MySgJf5hp5fw64HV_JScsyMXZKytqbnK1GR4CkgYY6X0wYILw25co/s320/egrets.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">During all this self-discovery/self-improvement, the issue that continually pops up is my inability to prioritize myself and my own wellbeing over <i>everyone else's</i>. Now, I'm not talking about the type of self-centered, "It's all about me and screw everyone else" prioritization. What I'm talking about is convincing myself that my needs, my feelings, my wants <i>don't matter</i>. <i>At all.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I don't know when, exactly, I developed that mindset (or <i>why</i>), but it's been a running theme throughout my life so far, and I've come to realize that it's very destructive. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We've all been taught not to be selfish and to think of others, and generally speaking, that's not a bad lesson to learn. We <i>should</i> consider how our words and actions will affect others, because we're all connected as humanity. Where things break down is the idea that <i>never</i> thinking of yourself is somehow virtuous. </span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">(Ironically, being "unselfish" can become selfish, because putting everyone else first becomes part of your identity.)</span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Anyway, I spent a lot of time and energy doing for everyone else and ignoring my own needs because I didn't want to be labeled as "selfish". It didn't matter that I was feeling burnt out (or <i>used</i> in some cases), I just resigned myself to the idea that "it is what it is", and it was easier to just go with whatever than to stand up and say, "No." and have to deal with the fallout. "Keeping the peace" is a lie we tell ourselves so that we don't have to confront the fact that the "peace" is really just letting people walk all over us.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Eventually, I found myself burnt out, used up, and <i>empty</i>. And still, I was being asked to give more, do more, be more of what had become expected of me, and I had nothing left. Not only was my mental health suffering, my <i>physical</i> health was starting to deteriorate. At a certain point I realized that if I didn't take a step back, I was going to end up seriously ill. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Making the decision to prioritize my health and wellbeing wasn't easy. I knew there would be pushback, and I knew that some people would be upset that they weren't going to be "number 1" any more. I had to learn to be okay with that, and for the most part, things have worked out. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I'm still learning how to "take care of me" so that I can take care of others in a way that is beneficial for everyone. I know there will be times when I'll have to handle things that are unpleasant or uncomfortable because I won't <i>really</i> have a choice, but being able to recognize when I <i>do</i> have a choice has been a huge positive.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">If you're always putting yourself in last place, take some time to consider what that is accomplishing in your life. If you're content with how things are going, great! If you find yourself at the end of your rope, however, you might want to step back and reassess your priorities. Are you trying to pour from an empty cup?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Be blessed, and be a blessing! βπππ</span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Megan</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>Mrs. Boneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11292877147514307655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5797755101733537515.post-28115915031629985882024-02-21T00:56:00.002-06:002024-02-21T00:57:12.725-06:00When You're Going Through It (You Got to Keep Going)<p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Greetings, y'all! ππ</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Please excuse the grammatically incorrect title (I'm not changing it, by the way. π). </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Are you "going through it"? Maybe you've "been through it", or maybe you're "still in it" but you're "almost through it". Whatever "it" is, I think we've all experienced the struggle. </span></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhadxvupC6FmSCpwoIcHPvvsQO_qzAn1c-Z7QStbpLB4hu9VX2UW0xAKYS-M2R7S6-6ZA5h2iqS-9CIaiZgOyJ-QE7HB2boVwiLjS_QsFoM5WC5wC9BdOKFD5B1N15X-uAUPRiNNZZKE0wmzzAYaJOqzecspDomi2OyWB3iXq2KrWlU2mm7erXZs81PEJU/s736/stormy%20moonlit%20sea.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="414" data-original-width="736" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhadxvupC6FmSCpwoIcHPvvsQO_qzAn1c-Z7QStbpLB4hu9VX2UW0xAKYS-M2R7S6-6ZA5h2iqS-9CIaiZgOyJ-QE7HB2boVwiLjS_QsFoM5WC5wC9BdOKFD5B1N15X-uAUPRiNNZZKE0wmzzAYaJOqzecspDomi2OyWB3iXq2KrWlU2mm7erXZs81PEJU/s320/stormy%20moonlit%20sea.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><i>https://www.deviantart.com/alexvanderlinde/art/Stormy-Sea-238814509</i></span></div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large; text-align: left;"><p style="text-align: left;">I mentioned having a personal struggle in my last post and having to take some unplanned time off to deal with it. </p><p style="text-align: left;">I was "going through it", and it was <i>pretty rough</i>. </p><p style="text-align: left;">I won't get into the nitty gritty, but I was dealing with some large feelings. On the heels of those large feelings came old memories and some unpleasant realizations. </p><p style="text-align: left;">I didn't exactly <i>want</i> to deal with <i>any</i> of it (Who would?). In the past, I would have either shoved those feelings, memories, and realizations down and ignored them, or I would have ruminated on them and continued the downward spiral feeling sorry for myself. </p><p style="text-align: left;">Don't get me wrong, I was tempted to do both (I'm ashamed to say.), but for the past few years, I've been on a journey to confront those parts of myself that I don't like and make positive changes so that I can be a better wife, mother, friend, and Christian. I can tell you, it's hard work, and I can't do it on my own. I've had to lean on my faith, pray, and surrender to God (I promise, I won't get too "preachy".)</p><p style="text-align: left;">Anyway, I had a choice to make, and I chose to take the hard path of facing "it". I lost a lot of sleep, and I shed a lot of tears. Instead of ducking and dodging each "thing" that came flying at me, I braced up and took each one full-force, grabbing hold and acknowledging it. I wrote for <i>hours. </i>I prayed for guidance, for illumination, and for strength. As I battled the past, my prayers were answered; God guided me through each moment, illuminated it with His light of Truth, and gave me the strength to face the next one. </p><p style="text-align: left;">I was "in the middle of it", and I was <i>exhausted.</i></p><p style="text-align: left;">If you've ever dealt with strong emotions, you know that it can feel like going 10 rounds with Mike Tyson. You end up feeling wrung out like an old dishrag and thrown down in a heap like dirty clothes. Doing a full day of hard, physical labor is less tiring than fighting a war in your own mind and heart (And you usually have something nice to show for physical labor, like a stack of firewood or a manicured lawn. The head stuff usually only results in red, swollen eyes and a snotty nose.).</p><p style="text-align: left;">I'll admit, there were many times that I wanted to stop the grueling ride and get off. It would have been a lot easier to just say, "Nope. I'm <i>done</i> with this mess." and try to forget everything that ever happened. But God said, "Nope. You're <i>not</i> done with 'this mess'. You asked Me to get you through it, and I'll drag you kicking and screaming if I have to. Sit down, shut up, and <i>let Me help you</i> <i>deal with it.</i>" (He didn't say that in so many words, but you get the point.).</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ__kHjGIoDyaR4VHUiqsE6mGRErk6dlteGLfSFxsPvKZ4szMw-QazFi6C_8ow2jiknRlEqyP6xeJQxXsRif1DVuQqWaTNC2xO4CvYFlDr7Y04A8L7rUfmhg4sY6OLlEHBBIX91kPKYP_w9kAqMN_FCMZHie7Cj0of9aLYwfZjRdBGlz6gDBYf2PRtQzY/s960/footprints%20in%20the%20sand%20cartoon.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="503" data-original-width="960" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ__kHjGIoDyaR4VHUiqsE6mGRErk6dlteGLfSFxsPvKZ4szMw-QazFi6C_8ow2jiknRlEqyP6xeJQxXsRif1DVuQqWaTNC2xO4CvYFlDr7Y04A8L7rUfmhg4sY6OLlEHBBIX91kPKYP_w9kAqMN_FCMZHie7Cj0of9aLYwfZjRdBGlz6gDBYf2PRtQzY/s320/footprints%20in%20the%20sand%20cartoon.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: left;">So I sat down, I shut up, and I kept my arms inside the ride through the darkness. </p><p style="text-align: left;">Eventually, I came to the place where everything was laid out in the open, and I could see what I had been avoiding. There were a <i>lot</i> of <i>little</i> things that each by itself wasn't <i>great</i>, but it wasn't <i>terrible</i>. However, because I chose to avoid/ignore the little things, they grew into <i>big things, </i>and those big things coalesced into <i>huge things</i>, as I did everything I could to shove them into a closet and lock them away. As with real-life closets, you can only shove so much into them before the door busts open and everything comes tumbling out.</p><p style="text-align: left;">Y'all, I was <i>gutted</i>. Laid before me was <i>years</i> of wasted opportunities, misguided intentions, misdirected efforts, and a mountain of pain I was responsible for piling on the people I love. You talk about feeling lower than dirt! </p><p style="text-align: left;">As I surveyed the landscape, so to speak, I prayed for forgiveness; for every time I ran away from responsibility, for every time I pushed back against my loved ones who wanted to love me "through it", for every time I <i>didn't see</i> that my loved ones needed me to love <i>them</i> "through it", for all the unintentional slights, for thinking that I had to handle everything on my own, for not considering how my rash decisions would affect anyone else, and for a lot more than that. </p></span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large; text-align: left;"><p style="text-align: left;">"Have mercy upon me, O God, according to your lovingkindness; according to Your tender mercies, blot out my transgressions." (Psalm 51:1) </p><p style="text-align: left;">God reminded me, "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." (1 John 1:9), and "Oh, give thanks to the Lord, for He is good! For His mercy endures forever." (1 Chronicles 16:34)</p><p style="text-align: left;">I was "still in it", but I was "almost through it", and I was <i>hopeful.</i></p><p style="text-align: left;">It may seem strange to feel hopeful and <i>thankful</i> for having been shown all the times you messed up big time, and for all the pain you caused, but if you don't know (or won't confront) what the problems are, you can't move forward toward a resolution. </p><p style="text-align: left;">Identifying the areas that need improvement, then working through them to make the necessary changes has been uncomfortable at best, and excruciatingly painful at worst. But the relief and <i>peace</i> on the other side of it is worth it.</p><p style="text-align: left;"><i>None</i> of this has been easy, and I still have some hard work ahead of me. There's a degree of uncertainty in outcomes, but a path has been made clear, and I have to keep going. </p><p style="text-align: left;">If <i>you're</i> "going through it", don't give up. You got to keep going. </p><p style="text-align: left;">Be blessed, and be a blessing! π</p><p style="text-align: left;">Megan</p></span>Mrs. Boneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11292877147514307655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5797755101733537515.post-28457552968086768122024-02-17T02:48:00.005-06:002024-02-17T02:48:50.791-06:00I Don't Repeat Gossip (So Listen Close the First Time)<p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Greetings, y'all! ππ</span> </p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I hope the week has treated you well. π I had a bit of a struggle mid-week and had to take a little unplanned time off, but things seem to be back on track, and I'm feeling pretty good. ππ</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I was scrolling through my Instagram </span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">(all ten posts) </span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">the other day and came across (</span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">π</span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">*</span><i style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">snort</i><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">*) this post I made about a year ago:</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg74Pgm_6jXDwPRn9x-MHbbVsqii2NLLgyhAKsbNdlp-tHD1SYgU8D0DKwBefDnZfla7UzEAtwh9wZm3H7FVUezhmnCF1HTF5shu8erTC9NwI1BBfpCLgn3jjD6uY0oEGfPx2ALDC71hyphenhyphenPNl28sOUZMFvgmbxPueG-OlfGbTw2HLZK4mM3ML8Rfcc4COKY/s889/instead%20of%20gossping%20pray.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="889" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg74Pgm_6jXDwPRn9x-MHbbVsqii2NLLgyhAKsbNdlp-tHD1SYgU8D0DKwBefDnZfla7UzEAtwh9wZm3H7FVUezhmnCF1HTF5shu8erTC9NwI1BBfpCLgn3jjD6uY0oEGfPx2ALDC71hyphenhyphenPNl28sOUZMFvgmbxPueG-OlfGbTw2HLZK4mM3ML8Rfcc4COKY/s320/instead%20of%20gossping%20pray.jpg" width="259" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I posted it as a sort of (?) snarky response to an offline incident that really rubbed me the wrong way, to put it mildly. The details aren't important, but I got to thinking about gossip and judgment, and how even the kindest, most well-intentioned people can inadvertently hurt others by having what they think is just a regular ol' conversation.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">There are folks out there who will take the "juicy" bits from these mostly innocuous chats and tuck them away until they get the chance to toss them out like precious stones to a new audience. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Those people <i>enjoy</i> hearing about others' misfortunes, and they enjoy the attention they get when they drop these little bombshells. They get off on the shocked gasps, the clutched pearls, and the "Nooooo! Really???"s. It gives them a smug sense of superiority.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4VgwpniYafrg2efuIXDxhG0q2ueW1NEt7DJkJ4Sr2QTHghhe9MBbhNFmhmol9y4QMRELCdiOPT3UlsPrnfGUZbS2yqwrtEATEkLtAG8A1yIThP302IvbZq6jNEbbVlcvCWGrXqv83rbSA6_O2NxbWN1AolJSTPUKzPgW9DQhqF9EVcDcw4vIAapoLYkA/s1456/smug%20anime%20tea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="819" data-original-width="1456" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4VgwpniYafrg2efuIXDxhG0q2ueW1NEt7DJkJ4Sr2QTHghhe9MBbhNFmhmol9y4QMRELCdiOPT3UlsPrnfGUZbS2yqwrtEATEkLtAG8A1yIThP302IvbZq6jNEbbVlcvCWGrXqv83rbSA6_O2NxbWN1AolJSTPUKzPgW9DQhqF9EVcDcw4vIAapoLYkA/s320/smug%20anime%20tea.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">It's bad enough that this type of person exists among the general population, but it's even worse when this type of person goes to church and claims to be a Christian. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We're all familiar with "The Church Lady", Dana Carvey's holier-than-thou, morally upright, church-going woman of God:</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6L-JXm2RhRjJltYQiEKV-YdldxMJO8PnjJRN0SKPjL6SYuu0f3zo0xDLAcPnBfYWOk1XhkKUzg8d8Bl4SnonP_P8PVjsRq2QpQ1Fhz71nrXq9sZmEnuxD6m10RStBO2_SpVF1sMxTAIAWEQriZNhjJXVIqdYbBsyOPARAnN5NPxJJhh2l84kv1apQbzI/s650/The-Church-Lady.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="650" height="197" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6L-JXm2RhRjJltYQiEKV-YdldxMJO8PnjJRN0SKPjL6SYuu0f3zo0xDLAcPnBfYWOk1XhkKUzg8d8Bl4SnonP_P8PVjsRq2QpQ1Fhz71nrXq9sZmEnuxD6m10RStBO2_SpVF1sMxTAIAWEQriZNhjJXVIqdYbBsyOPARAnN5NPxJJhh2l84kv1apQbzI/s320/The-Church-Lady.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I think most churches have their own "Church Lady" (mine does not... any more). She's in church every time the doors are open, and she's in charge of organizing the church potluck. She claims to be BFFs with the pastor's wife. She knows all the books of the Bible (but not many verses), and she knows all the hymns in the hymnal (except the ones she doesn't like). She's on every committee (that's important), and she volunteers to collect donations for the orphans in Apalachicola (wherever <i>that</i> is). She's <i>such</i> a good person!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFbI5m-Trpzr16dZUSu1kYWUlSebqj_UP8Sd-yZPz7HxIHnNX2bp2zfrEeQgVHq1-VqMhVZ2BEO7-sslIOA-T7P5v01Cg8l7__Bwuvr8O4Mk9Er8LQBaBqoxjyIngWPcuS0b44cjv4Q4wq3uozzo0ImCuVVSu1VWeL7GKBnPX7pTOwbBU9M0rwBY7n0ck/s450/old-woman-who-feels-relieved.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="450" height="176" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFbI5m-Trpzr16dZUSu1kYWUlSebqj_UP8Sd-yZPz7HxIHnNX2bp2zfrEeQgVHq1-VqMhVZ2BEO7-sslIOA-T7P5v01Cg8l7__Bwuvr8O4Mk9Er8LQBaBqoxjyIngWPcuS0b44cjv4Q4wq3uozzo0ImCuVVSu1VWeL7GKBnPX7pTOwbBU9M0rwBY7n0ck/w176-h176/old-woman-who-feels-relieved.jpg" width="176" /></a></div><br /><br /></div><br /><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">The mask starts to slip, however, when the pastor calls out for prayer requests. The Church Lady </span><i style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">always</i><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"> has a name or three ready, and she waits for one or two people to voice their requests before she delivers her gossip-disguised-as-a-prayer-request: </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">"Y'all, please pray for my son to find another job. He's drowning in his wife's credit card debt."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">"We need to pray for precious baby Kyleigh. Her mother needs to go to rehab because she's bad on drugs."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">"I want to thank the Lord that my family hasn't been torn apart by homosexuality like the Nelsons'." </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBMCR3DlCSmKd786YWSaZIHNSDFlRhj_YWAqnZI4VweDK3gJY7z4fNGe0zo-gdzqLfDZm8FPHZf7ciHESACZBFaZ_P1Vt3GNbcy5U8LIS52POA_gSE6MDO-uDzjonlIEMPyXG0QPzorl8-zM1nCPtMDeDvnaU3HnUYHql609i3TAJNf-aDSq6OvdBO8Dg/s380/smug%20old%20lady.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="380" data-original-width="380" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBMCR3DlCSmKd786YWSaZIHNSDFlRhj_YWAqnZI4VweDK3gJY7z4fNGe0zo-gdzqLfDZm8FPHZf7ciHESACZBFaZ_P1Vt3GNbcy5U8LIS52POA_gSE6MDO-uDzjonlIEMPyXG0QPzorl8-zM1nCPtMDeDvnaU3HnUYHql609i3TAJNf-aDSq6OvdBO8Dg/w188-h188/smug%20old%20lady.jpg" width="188" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Having done her duty to inform the congregation on who needs prayers (and <i>why</i>), she sits back and listens for the whispers and murmurs, and she'll linger a bit after the service to answer questions from the curious. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">After church, she'll go to Applebee's for lunch and offer sympathy to the server for having to work on a Sunday ("It's such a <i>shame</i> that they have you working on Sunday! They should be closed so people can go to church!"), then she'll leave a dollar tip and a tract about the evils of doing business on The Lord's Day. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The "Church Lady" and scenario I just described is a caricature, but there are elements of her that exist in real people. I've witnessed the "gossip-disguised-as-a-prayer-request" during a church service more than once. As the kids say, "It's so cringe." (kids probably don't say that any more).</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The point is (<i>finally</i>), <i>everyone</i> has something going on in their life that is difficult to handle. It may be debt, or drugs, or a family member's sexuality, or the loss of a spouse to cancer. No matter the issue, passing judgment on others' difficult situations instead of praying for them or offering support (in whatever form that may take) only serves to add <i>more</i> difficulty to their lives. Passing judgment is not beneficial, it's not kind, and it's not a Christian's job. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Be blessed, and be a blessing! βπππ</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Megan</span></div></div></div><p></p>Mrs. Boneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11292877147514307655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5797755101733537515.post-4825542202258041822024-02-14T23:41:00.007-06:002024-02-14T23:46:14.169-06:00This Far And No Farther (Good Fences Make Good Neighbors)<p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><span>Greetings, y'all! ππ</span> </span></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJsgB-A-BqLpnHvTPuWneyBdXS4krC9CciV_BHdt-qu-sG6972w91D693Sj6zo6vBmY4SLOpzw-jqJB3KK37UPqUGb9NSYYphg_9hin9cVDsS1jQvV10Hl3MP0RPdlTH5mtclzxeOwQ-uxgZdM5HHjrAkVghlwONLgwAQhxq-clquvVS4T6sKtJ8AAtY0/s1000/line%20sand.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="1000" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJsgB-A-BqLpnHvTPuWneyBdXS4krC9CciV_BHdt-qu-sG6972w91D693Sj6zo6vBmY4SLOpzw-jqJB3KK37UPqUGb9NSYYphg_9hin9cVDsS1jQvV10Hl3MP0RPdlTH5mtclzxeOwQ-uxgZdM5HHjrAkVghlwONLgwAQhxq-clquvVS4T6sKtJ8AAtY0/s320/line%20sand.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">That line in the sand up there represents something I've struggled with for probably most of my life. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmFVnXzVUw9Y8GnnPGUGxiF8Qt0x7GvPEkkQ3zWbKy_jJRbQtfn4Msv4jsHjBmGa1vqJUnSCviqHzyOCMeHSs5k55gPmTqENyinVk1SBPCI8fF4qxIfZ0bAEI_pn7qo1uHHl_wRxHoO6lZSc4GbEog9JpS9eCr7xFwgXv9KE3RPI7OXKQARRtjNENLIuM/s489/simpsons%20so%20far%20meme.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="199" data-original-width="489" height="130" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmFVnXzVUw9Y8GnnPGUGxiF8Qt0x7GvPEkkQ3zWbKy_jJRbQtfn4Msv4jsHjBmGa1vqJUnSCviqHzyOCMeHSs5k55gPmTqENyinVk1SBPCI8fF4qxIfZ0bAEI_pn7qo1uHHl_wRxHoO6lZSc4GbEog9JpS9eCr7xFwgXv9KE3RPI7OXKQARRtjNENLIuM/s320/simpsons%20so%20far%20meme.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>sigh</i> Okay, most of my life <i>so far. </i> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">That line represents a boundary. Until relatively recently, I didn't have many boundaries, and the ones I <i>did</i> have were frequently easily crossed (because I <i>allowed</i> them to be, even when I didn't <i>want </i>to). </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJSpV6Pvrgw9vP_TPY_MDtv6acfXWSDZEWXCJrH4yJ3BQyYIWts1SICZTjyP3Ty1ncQk11f9Gh7yhZL5Q6qISL9mPo_T5nJgBA7kWGydGsLwF5Qwm81cegZtASHrCTNGruewJWLMN7NiGq_WAxv-pPy-YMS_-rY-wbJscW37_LL1J5f-SAFzkQxij26DA/s612/greeter.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="408" data-original-width="612" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJSpV6Pvrgw9vP_TPY_MDtv6acfXWSDZEWXCJrH4yJ3BQyYIWts1SICZTjyP3Ty1ncQk11f9Gh7yhZL5Q6qISL9mPo_T5nJgBA7kWGydGsLwF5Qwm81cegZtASHrCTNGruewJWLMN7NiGq_WAxv-pPy-YMS_-rY-wbJscW37_LL1J5f-SAFzkQxij26DA/s320/greeter.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span><i>Why, yes, you may step over that line I just laid down. I'm smiling on the outside, but inside I'm like, <b>really</b> not happy about this. But no, go ahead. It's cool. It's really not, but I'll pretend it is, because I hate confrontation.</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span><i><br /></i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span>It took a rather biting comment my husband made toward someone else to open my eyes and see how much of my time and energy was being spent running around putting out everyone else's fires, and how little I had left to put out my own. I had been neglecting the needs of my immediate family to keep other people from being disappointed/hurt/mad at me if I said, "No."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span>I didn't change my people-pleasing ways overnight, however. It took a couple more years before I could "respectfully decline" without hyperventilating (much). Honestly, I'm <i>still</i> working on setting firm boundaries with varying degrees of success. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi60Xhh4LripWcJhI8iFNEPO6GBRfqO0m6vZ8QGy2IFv7hjLBatmmR18AbqGPjysA52MQLxEj6ZP_sfWezYO4DNm9nyikHWL3vylS95dn-i-mNwJw88Li59Y01Hhj4iNIeaUzQhudkXJ0zT0siqGIq2P-h2hotLhMfx327VR_BslPqxt7QtcCxUnLqHfBg/s384/line%20graph.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="234" data-original-width="384" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi60Xhh4LripWcJhI8iFNEPO6GBRfqO0m6vZ8QGy2IFv7hjLBatmmR18AbqGPjysA52MQLxEj6ZP_sfWezYO4DNm9nyikHWL3vylS95dn-i-mNwJw88Li59Y01Hhj4iNIeaUzQhudkXJ0zT0siqGIq2P-h2hotLhMfx327VR_BslPqxt7QtcCxUnLqHfBg/s320/line%20graph.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span><span>One thing I learned is that a dropped hint doesn't have to be picked up. I discovered that I was</span><span>,</span></span><span> </span><span><span>intentionally or not,</span><span> being manipulated into handling things that other people didn't want to handle themselves. What I thought was me being helpful was really me enabling others to avoid doing something they didn't want to do. And a lot of times <i>I</i> didn't really want to do it, either. </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span><br /><span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb6iU9WCc2fjONFS1K-3Cq4DQAyOQjsTNB93mv5oCxt9Ag2o427nYhKxmUq5pgxdDJM6afUGrTLHs_Yba4MRZQZkF1gRfHM3ICuJvqYBBoSnSc16pOstkRWR_mo38NOysCEr58ZgBCrIYssE3e8pQXWp789h0sz3_Hwq5cyRDSu6j4PoFuFYpSH8HYJg4/s487/helping-enabling.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="366" data-original-width="487" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb6iU9WCc2fjONFS1K-3Cq4DQAyOQjsTNB93mv5oCxt9Ag2o427nYhKxmUq5pgxdDJM6afUGrTLHs_Yba4MRZQZkF1gRfHM3ICuJvqYBBoSnSc16pOstkRWR_mo38NOysCEr58ZgBCrIYssE3e8pQXWp789h0sz3_Hwq5cyRDSu6j4PoFuFYpSH8HYJg4/s320/helping-enabling.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span>Another thing I learned is that my "particular sets of skills" do not always fit with "skills-adjacent" tasks. For example, I'm a musician; I play piano and I sing, and I do pretty well at both (though not necessarily at the same time π). Because of this, I've been asked a few times to teach music lessons individually, and once to lead groups of kids for the music portion of VBS. I discovered that while I am a fairly decent musician, <i>I am not a teacher.</i> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0ZgF3nUFz2lr3OZfScm9ai9ACCsGOjhA3Mf9XM672JOlt8fEA66IXEvtSj_oZnlB3L_dumzFvUIMTJIQRXYd1vnJI6z2dIKS_wzghjP88u0SMhN9kjLdnpwBz4CL0ZX609DMd35Da_rwuN8uY26qxABHWXJMdmZA2IHuXNeoTwcuB2gM1849dm3Jv_As/s720/edna%20krabapple.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="406" data-original-width="720" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0ZgF3nUFz2lr3OZfScm9ai9ACCsGOjhA3Mf9XM672JOlt8fEA66IXEvtSj_oZnlB3L_dumzFvUIMTJIQRXYd1vnJI6z2dIKS_wzghjP88u0SMhN9kjLdnpwBz4CL0ZX609DMd35Da_rwuN8uY26qxABHWXJMdmZA2IHuXNeoTwcuB2gM1849dm3Jv_As/s320/edna%20krabapple.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span><br /></span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span>I have great admiration for people who have the ability to impart their knowledge to others in a way that people understand and learn something. But I kinda knew that was out of my wheelhouse. I said, "Sure!" a few times, anyway, because, "people-pleasing". I had pretty well made up my mind that me teaching/leading was not going to be beneficial for anyone, so when the VBS request came up, I declined and only felt <i>a little bit</i> guilty for saying, "I'm sorry, but no." I'm sure people were disappointed, but I'm grateful to them for respecting my "No."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span>Those two examples are rather mild, but they were small victories that enabled me to eventually begin to strengthen my boundaries on the more serious stuff (which I will spare you in this post). </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span>Having healthy boundaries is a good thing, but if you don't <i>enforce</i> those boundaries, they're just suggestions. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDypOdZU_ZL0TNVxjjnjirsSqQXwAmlJUvtwha5wnIl1xl5fpZXiFLN0hXIyvwqi2abCi5Ti2PBFTUJ4OZ8zD-INIOfw6LNQwQly9gza28lu_mGu2bpue9ssEgOHuHd8jau6iBceRunagNORAMCkFubkWKvsaaghFzUDmpsjS_hQfdYfMNDIAbd0GwChU/s471/bugs%20bunny%20no.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="464" data-original-width="471" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDypOdZU_ZL0TNVxjjnjirsSqQXwAmlJUvtwha5wnIl1xl5fpZXiFLN0hXIyvwqi2abCi5Ti2PBFTUJ4OZ8zD-INIOfw6LNQwQly9gza28lu_mGu2bpue9ssEgOHuHd8jau6iBceRunagNORAMCkFubkWKvsaaghFzUDmpsjS_hQfdYfMNDIAbd0GwChU/w201-h198/bugs%20bunny%20no.jpg" width="201" /></a></div><br /><span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span>It's sort of like having a little flimsy fence around your house to keep just anyone from coming into your yard, but your neighbors want to use your yard for a party, so they just step over it and come in anyway. You don't want them in your yard, but they make a fuss and say you're not being very neighborly, so you relent, because you don't want to be un-neighborly. At first it's just 2 or 3 people, but eventually the whole neighborhood is partying in your yard.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhinHA45DK5mnwVcFZWcozp_jJG7Ni6KJXaDb_zhBWhqEz77I_8f6fEtlYzf4zYnkX99ivwsedyG8nTCs1uAg9VvknWn296BPmnUm_QWAKeeA_nqEYc3UG75o12iSPfc2_eXv83x7g7O9eR2N1SeWMWp89g__K3MikC03HS9C0o4RuflnhE57ImX0frBPQ/s474/fence.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="316" data-original-width="474" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhinHA45DK5mnwVcFZWcozp_jJG7Ni6KJXaDb_zhBWhqEz77I_8f6fEtlYzf4zYnkX99ivwsedyG8nTCs1uAg9VvknWn296BPmnUm_QWAKeeA_nqEYc3UG75o12iSPfc2_eXv83x7g7O9eR2N1SeWMWp89g__K3MikC03HS9C0o4RuflnhE57ImX0frBPQ/s320/fence.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span>Your unwanted guests start demanding lawn chairs and lemonade, and they're trashing the place up and complaining that you're not cleaning up after them. You run yourself ragged accommodating these people and smoothing over their hurt feelings. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1JTanm4-ECUYLSqfb9JmZVlrtczVJ-4zFXw8zBSkr-7Fpbo9VWAvIfs1E-ajZGe-hfF3hdsFGLdmIgP0DbyQ6n1AFO29d_3uetPvgKtapljQvrnLxI32L3Gys1lIbkyWBzWxtRFL0ymJzcPuMNPaRXDhoA1s5Vr1c3IxWZlfGFf6ulwJ__m14zKVcdvI/s491/angry%20mob.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="416" data-original-width="491" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1JTanm4-ECUYLSqfb9JmZVlrtczVJ-4zFXw8zBSkr-7Fpbo9VWAvIfs1E-ajZGe-hfF3hdsFGLdmIgP0DbyQ6n1AFO29d_3uetPvgKtapljQvrnLxI32L3Gys1lIbkyWBzWxtRFL0ymJzcPuMNPaRXDhoA1s5Vr1c3IxWZlfGFf6ulwJ__m14zKVcdvI/s320/angry%20mob.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span>Meanwhile, (back at the ranch) your family hasn't seen you for more than a few minutes at a time, and you haven't been able to sit down and rest because as soon as you do, someone outside wants something. You're torn in two, because you're trying to accommodate the people outside so they won't start a riot. The people <i>inside</i> (who are supposed to be your priority) need your care and attention, but they can't get you to stop tending to everyone else, and <i>no one</i> is happy (and you're about to drop dead from the stress). </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJFGOJdTdCyNQm9v3a4QFCU3bYBgWzGYKZToiVuBcAuvn44zrd_RSdp4GT82J0p4_ZtYrLXv1c5XZxXpfGwjdte9tfKcGnH9E_7CWI8xjTsugX5lDug8fOKS5IGJ0WwVytcma9JtDjRCrgUa-_YLIKahxFu64nazOx_HeWvrad6m9ZchpPFc2fk7dUhqI/s637/spongebob%20brain%20fire.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="637" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJFGOJdTdCyNQm9v3a4QFCU3bYBgWzGYKZToiVuBcAuvn44zrd_RSdp4GT82J0p4_ZtYrLXv1c5XZxXpfGwjdte9tfKcGnH9E_7CWI8xjTsugX5lDug8fOKS5IGJ0WwVytcma9JtDjRCrgUa-_YLIKahxFu64nazOx_HeWvrad6m9ZchpPFc2fk7dUhqI/s320/spongebob%20brain%20fire.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span>Here's the thing - you intended the fence to define your space and to keep uninvited guests out, but by not stopping people from jumping over it (because you wanted to "keep the peace" and be "neighborly"), it became a decorative hurdle to overcome, instead of a boundary that could not be crossed. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV67Cqbuk7YtUe7qevpRP8Zau6SyEBq7FcdFAFahqxvo55jVQSyp2hsuW1lq7rDpw33mCXycClVIQZfuHb9IlGw_72oT-p1OfNM52mBNIrj0sUmJxpKQ7Ayk-5PAm-riAmq_yTADuJV6vR9sLbfkOXmkSg81JwThqxCkZxHRguXgrVVpZnAYn_Ap3bxNQ/s612/sheep%20jumping%20the%20fence.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="434" data-original-width="612" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV67Cqbuk7YtUe7qevpRP8Zau6SyEBq7FcdFAFahqxvo55jVQSyp2hsuW1lq7rDpw33mCXycClVIQZfuHb9IlGw_72oT-p1OfNM52mBNIrj0sUmJxpKQ7Ayk-5PAm-riAmq_yTADuJV6vR9sLbfkOXmkSg81JwThqxCkZxHRguXgrVVpZnAYn_Ap3bxNQ/s320/sheep%20jumping%20the%20fence.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">What you need is a tall, sturdy fence with a gate (Or a wall and a moat with a drawbridge; whatever works). When pushy neighbors come calling to party down, they're stopped at the gate, and can't just waltz into your yard and take the place over.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEoa3-2GvWoYUPql4XKPVSE0brPR16TI7m4q_RMSrtz5CZRMTK1BNrZ7IvGYM5RGoY_DhW1VkNAprwg0Ot0AgvDDWWiDwyzTiSFbclmfbcR4bkvEtv-9lSYKBHnVRgnxDES4u_9Hb6yy551GDW2Ao3KbqftR9Ci4NhuHK_9aMxP47Q4F1RjwYC0rIOQkU/s736/you%20shall%20not%20pass.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="552" data-original-width="736" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEoa3-2GvWoYUPql4XKPVSE0brPR16TI7m4q_RMSrtz5CZRMTK1BNrZ7IvGYM5RGoY_DhW1VkNAprwg0Ot0AgvDDWWiDwyzTiSFbclmfbcR4bkvEtv-9lSYKBHnVRgnxDES4u_9Hb6yy551GDW2Ao3KbqftR9Ci4NhuHK_9aMxP47Q4F1RjwYC0rIOQkU/s320/you%20shall%20not%20pass.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">They may fuss and cuss and call you selfish and self-centered. They may even call you - <i>GASP!</i> - <b>un-neighborly!</b> π± </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8HP7ZwoQQ7ka_qkraHVOPUCuy-_ryZrZzXlzRYOenf2uPDzfAqSLdRcd2sth_2AZiymAfTII_2CgCPoN8s0BF2o8MDCM1UVOXASLLpXCY4stselu7BSqMIUvYFyQeua0Ul8OPso0FdJP4xByoUJ5Se8iD70m5eogxXMY0L3CPWfkWtjqwKFAHmZEqTQE/s319/le%20gasp.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="319" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8HP7ZwoQQ7ka_qkraHVOPUCuy-_ryZrZzXlzRYOenf2uPDzfAqSLdRcd2sth_2AZiymAfTII_2CgCPoN8s0BF2o8MDCM1UVOXASLLpXCY4stselu7BSqMIUvYFyQeua0Ul8OPso0FdJP4xByoUJ5Se8iD70m5eogxXMY0L3CPWfkWtjqwKFAHmZEqTQE/w153-h150/le%20gasp.jpg" width="153" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Because the fence is tall and sturdy (or the moat is deep and filled with alligators), and the gate is closed and locked (or the drawbridge has "mysteriously" gotten stuck in the up position), your space is not only defined, it is protected. You and your family (your <i>immediate</i> family) can enjoy your own yard in peace, and you can decide when (or if) your yard is available for the neighborhood gala. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">There may be people who are unhappy that your fence keeps them out, but the ones who really matter, who love and care about you, understand why the fence is there, and they'll wait for an invitation to come inside. Good fences make good neighbors, and healthy boundaries that are enforced make your life more peaceful.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Be blessed, and be a blessing! βππ </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Megan </div></span></div></div></div></div></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /></div><br /></div><br /><br /><p></p>Mrs. Boneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11292877147514307655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5797755101733537515.post-30301120481166638122024-02-11T15:28:00.000-06:002024-02-11T15:28:01.619-06:00It Is Well (With My Soul)<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiQT9A1F2pOKWVHAE692sLMBNio735SOqGgeaebCSZPQEb4uUVsucc7f4OQ0K2xNvTdMklRadj2lf5J-b1rzxP8_wxGS-QeQtJmPTxeddC27GnfJRQ6wkHXlA7yZMmGV96wauD9UFQb58w0_VMQ0oxQ-u04Kz5veiCH-iok1z8YPc0GBpI40JpbCXwcq74" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="360" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiQT9A1F2pOKWVHAE692sLMBNio735SOqGgeaebCSZPQEb4uUVsucc7f4OQ0K2xNvTdMklRadj2lf5J-b1rzxP8_wxGS-QeQtJmPTxeddC27GnfJRQ6wkHXlA7yZMmGV96wauD9UFQb58w0_VMQ0oxQ-u04Kz5veiCH-iok1z8YPc0GBpI40JpbCXwcq74" width="240" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Greetings, y'all! ππ</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">In my last post, I talked a little about Toby Keith's passing and how the news made me feel. This isn't going to be a "Toby Keith tribute post", but his death brought some thoughts to the surface that I've had over the past 2 or 3 years, about grief and grieving.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The subject of death and dying isn't usually discussed in "polite company". It's uncomfortable. For some, the notion is terrifying. For others, it's a far-future "someday, maybe" thing that isn't important right now, so let's talk about something else. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Death can't be hidden away in the corner of a closet. It demands to be acknowledged; it walks right up and gets in your face. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Dying isn't something that was taboo to discuss in my family growing up. One of my earliest memories is looking down into a casket and seeing an older lady (Mrs. Pace) laying there. I remember that she was wearing a reddish-orange jacket and a white blouse. She was the wife of an older couple that my mom and dad were friends with. My mom and I were talking one day, many years later, and I asked her how old I was when Mrs. Pace died, and she said I was close to 2 years old (she told me that the reason for the perspective in my memory is because my dad was holding me in his arms next to the casket). She said that she felt that making death scary for or a secret to be kept from children was doing a disservice to kids, because eventually, everyone will have to face it.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">A lot of my extended family were in the older generations, and between the ages of 2 and 13, I attended a lot of funerals. Most died as old people, some with cancer, some with other "old people" ailments. One cousin was killed testing a new race car he'd built, and he was "young" at age 45. Three of my 4 grandparents died between 1985 and 1987, with both my grandfathers dying within 6 months of each other. My mom's sister, who was my "second mom" died in 1988. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">While all of these deaths were heartbreaking, being allowed and encouraged to talk about it made it a lot less frightening, and it made room for grieving to be a part in healing.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Grieving and grief are different for everyone, and there's no timeline or map to follow. Grief is not something you "get over", and grieving is not something that has an end date. It's not linear. It's uncomfortable to witness, and it can seem to be overwhelming to experience, because it can be so isolating. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">It's encouraging to see that more people are being open about their grief and their journey through the grieving process. I follow 2 people on Facebook who lost their respective spouses about a year ago. One is a friend, the other is a celebrity, but both have been very open with what their day-to-day looks like, including the "ugly" days. Their posts have been enlightening, and in addition to connecting with others who are on the same journey, they give us "bystanders" a clue on how we can be supportive to them, as well as some things <i>we</i> may experience in the future. Is it uncomfortable? Absolutely. For both sides. But it's necessary to confront our discomfort and turn it into compassion.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We keep our loved ones alive in our hearts and minds by talking about them, sharing who they are with others. Whether they are a "regular person", or a superstar, they walked among us; they lived, they loved, and they were (and are) loved in return. βππ</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Be blessed, and be a blessing!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Megan</span></p>Mrs. Boneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11292877147514307655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5797755101733537515.post-56159608967481241082024-02-11T01:32:00.004-06:002024-03-20T08:34:58.797-05:00I Love This Bar (It's My Kind of Place)<p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Greetings, y'all! ππ</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Don't let the title fool you. I won't be talking about a bar in this post. π To be honest, I will probably talk about a little of this and a little of that, and <i>maybe</i> it'll all tie in together somehow. More'n likely, though, it'll probably look like this:</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjvGNZKq06Zf2kqL5tTX2AIxrW2KxS8RKZWqu5gc3NsGlZF4UNVVeePAJvHTNBBE8-ishvKUkfy-nxe4FH-HIqbPlTyKzyX8zNbyZ3iQCIAvRnrGJ424YkFwcEaJiN5KWaYX2SoTqI7SRNH5ew_e_E9svl7YFAebWlAe_TAY2zY0tpxqEoWH25NLerDAk/s650/cable%20mess.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="650" data-original-width="500" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjvGNZKq06Zf2kqL5tTX2AIxrW2KxS8RKZWqu5gc3NsGlZF4UNVVeePAJvHTNBBE8-ishvKUkfy-nxe4FH-HIqbPlTyKzyX8zNbyZ3iQCIAvRnrGJ424YkFwcEaJiN5KWaYX2SoTqI7SRNH5ew_e_E9svl7YFAebWlAe_TAY2zY0tpxqEoWH25NLerDAk/w168-h219/cable%20mess.jpg" width="168" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I had a birthday Monday. ππ₯³ I began my last year in my 40s, and I'm actually pretty happy about it. π I've never been one to lie about my age. I've never said, "Oh, I'm 29 and holding." or "Forever 39!" or "I'm 21 and change!" I'll proudly shout, "I'M 588 MONTHS OLD!" (I bet you didn't expect to have to do math. π) Overall, I had a good birthday, and I'm looking forward to what this year brings. π</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Tuesday morning, scrolling through Facebook (as I do), I was punched in the gut seeing this post:</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhalEZASEIHglTTRclGLWyTBVLU12gxdtf80vl-q8g_LP4rQV4cUMYjTyt_NJmDkY641eKUqdrDbAYoOEADpjFmw5-nj59atUKb_OYFZxqP0AT5kJaGHFgLqfzh003aYjS2XdfVe2WJOAhy3k5MDm3Kd8Vi2QsAuV9iUsLGZYadbLzmmD-ZuAl4E91QJR0" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="631" data-original-width="680" height="373" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhalEZASEIHglTTRclGLWyTBVLU12gxdtf80vl-q8g_LP4rQV4cUMYjTyt_NJmDkY641eKUqdrDbAYoOEADpjFmw5-nj59atUKb_OYFZxqP0AT5kJaGHFgLqfzh003aYjS2XdfVe2WJOAhy3k5MDm3Kd8Vi2QsAuV9iUsLGZYadbLzmmD-ZuAl4E91QJR0=w402-h373" width="402" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">That he died on my birthday just made the hit that much harder. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I became a fan of Toby Keith's around 2005, when his "Honkytonk University" album came out. I was <i>aware</i> of him and had heard a few of his older songs (and seen those 10-10-220 commercials he was in with Terry Bradshaw π), but I wasn't really "into" country music at the time. I don't know what it was about him and his music, but when I started paying attention, I was hooked. There haven't been many artists that I've felt compelled to buy their back catalog to "catch up", but TK was one of the very few whose music resonated with me to that extent. I never got to see him live in concert, but I don't feel like I really needed to. He was a great songwriter, he had a terrific sense of humor, and he came across as <i>real. </i>He's gone on to his reward, but his music will keep him alive in the hearts of his fans.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The rest of Tuesday didn't really improve, as I had to continue attempting to help a family member handle some business that has been a thorn for the past 2 years. I used up all my "polite" and "professional" on <i>that</i> task, and by the end of the day, the problem <i>still</i> wasn't resolved. π And I only got about 2 hours of <i>paid</i> work done. It's been a long time since I've felt so defeated and just <i>DONE</i>. π’ </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhjABpWZH2hPz1KVpJhsqB3B7u0zyr2Mp-Ply7rCYfJbYQbrVSDeLWDh-9hVsuSPYhuCYHPCQGPNpR4ohRxTX1YedZzZ6irna0tK-4xHRyQT5ek64bWAV5MLbh07D633C-N0t3ivTf5rRd4Cf3tGES3kgWMeFknPtx2NJ95XcjVEkV6HqWyBOI7Jb3sm-w" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="849" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhjABpWZH2hPz1KVpJhsqB3B7u0zyr2Mp-Ply7rCYfJbYQbrVSDeLWDh-9hVsuSPYhuCYHPCQGPNpR4ohRxTX1YedZzZ6irna0tK-4xHRyQT5ek64bWAV5MLbh07D633C-N0t3ivTf5rRd4Cf3tGES3kgWMeFknPtx2NJ95XcjVEkV6HqWyBOI7Jb3sm-w" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This morning (Wednesday), I felt a little better, and I managed to do some actual work. The other business will have to wait a day or 2, though, because I have to focus on my job...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhpFdJcJ9575vJAk7H6J2ilNdTTgLbhRjE3ru3v6w-STXPpfSiPLk0sfYstYDggNUJqubVR9Hr3zcJ-BBujerucWIvVa-K9B4AFcU_JgnL7e-NzDjjLlzIr21XQkjMaaxfMamvCpcID5muksbbENCVFO8EuN0xHqjhFpV6P56A8paOZgVXA-ovXdOPYk9Q" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhpFdJcJ9575vJAk7H6J2ilNdTTgLbhRjE3ru3v6w-STXPpfSiPLk0sfYstYDggNUJqubVR9Hr3zcJ-BBujerucWIvVa-K9B4AFcU_JgnL7e-NzDjjLlzIr21XQkjMaaxfMamvCpcID5muksbbENCVFO8EuN0xHqjhFpV6P56A8paOZgVXA-ovXdOPYk9Q" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Sometimes I have a whole post in me in one sitting, and sometimes I lose the thread and have to set it aside for a while. π€·</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It's currently just after 1 a.m. on Sunday, February 11th. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Thursday was relatively productive, and I managed to get more actual work done. Thursday <i>night</i> was miserable, and I got no sleep at all. I logged in to work at 4 a.m. Friday morning instead of tossing and turning like a rotisserie chicken, and I got a bit accomplished before I had to take an important phone call at 8 a.m. Another important phone call was supposed to happen at 10 a.m., but for unknown reasons, it didn't happen until 2:30 p.m. Both calls went well, and a couple things that had been back-burnered for way too long are now handled and quite a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. π</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'm glad that the week is over, to be honest. Here's hoping that next week will be better. βπππ</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Be blessed, and be a blessing!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Megan</div></div></span></div><p></p>Mrs. Boneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11292877147514307655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5797755101733537515.post-11275687803950671682024-01-28T17:59:00.010-06:002024-01-28T18:02:56.835-06:00It's Never Too Late (To Learn a New Thing)<p><span style="font-family: arial;">Greetings, y'all! ππ</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">It's the end of another weekend, and nearly the end of January! I hope this month has treated y'all well. π</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Work is going well. I'm finally finding my groove, and the quality of my deliverables is improving (not that they weren't decent quality to begin with, but there's always room for improvement π). I'm still struggling a bit with meeting deadlines, but even <i>that</i> is getting better. </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdKDqk7UMfe2GYtyniRVo79MB9CRMgj1qaFGdelaovq32lCrQCNsXD2FTYVF70OaR_wxgeDLeRLZZFhAXZrn-HlG83TTJw9iFlae7K6YBJq2CM0YKocWQdJwInVYyY2PDiW7U1E3fkjvQf9gu0yR1BaFF558Vd3P8W33uiTOiqYjVNf_L7GwJ_97RTVU0/s489/spongebob%20screaming%20inside.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="372" data-original-width="489" height="173" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdKDqk7UMfe2GYtyniRVo79MB9CRMgj1qaFGdelaovq32lCrQCNsXD2FTYVF70OaR_wxgeDLeRLZZFhAXZrn-HlG83TTJw9iFlae7K6YBJq2CM0YKocWQdJwInVYyY2PDiW7U1E3fkjvQf9gu0yR1BaFF558Vd3P8W33uiTOiqYjVNf_L7GwJ_97RTVU0/w228-h173/spongebob%20screaming%20inside.jpg" width="228" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>My healthcare provider and I met again recently to discuss how the ADHD meds are working out. At my previous appointment, we changed meds, and I found the new one had fewer side effects and seemed to be more suited to my needs. I felt that the dosage needed adjusting, though. It was "almost just right". At this latest appointment, my provider agreed and prescribed a different dosage for me to try for a month. I've been on the new dosage for almost a week, and I think this will be "just right". π </span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5E59oqZfyeGWngWOKcMKNxHyuTWKqmF1c9zwW2ImY0g2G85SqKZtQ3hAo1FRD44UABIWnI60aFiedEpNpLa1S1n5TXlcjLGNC9vXhVWD8at8lJDcPMW6AQWHCMavk1BU1fH7yJXQ8bYx_6NEy2TUaK2jp9V7WMj0TdUbqU0xlYRd4XbJgKUuN_3L7K0U/s488/just%20right.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="488" data-original-width="488" height="169" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5E59oqZfyeGWngWOKcMKNxHyuTWKqmF1c9zwW2ImY0g2G85SqKZtQ3hAo1FRD44UABIWnI60aFiedEpNpLa1S1n5TXlcjLGNC9vXhVWD8at8lJDcPMW6AQWHCMavk1BU1fH7yJXQ8bYx_6NEy2TUaK2jp9V7WMj0TdUbqU0xlYRd4XbJgKUuN_3L7K0U/w169-h169/just%20right.jpg" width="169" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Earlier in 2023, the State of Louisiana, through the Louisiana Workforce Commission, partnered with Coursera to offer residents the opportunity to learn new skills and even get professional certifications through Coursera, at no cost, through the state's "Tech Ready Louisiana" program. I had seen commercials for the program, but hadn't looked into it until a coworker in Brazil talked about a Coursera course he was completing. The conversation reminded me about the commercials, so I looked up the program, and was delighted when I saw what was available. I signed up for the program and started browsing the course catalog to find courses that I thought would help me with my current job, as well as increase my chances of getting a better job in the future.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4iNwXGkKusXrJG7C6AreDwG5GJGnmTKaaWcGOnxAP88eZOAT_nAyp0QAuwf7YNIkpT6D46qgFChcwANdhiVeqHYhEXHCfWC9cioeHLhbsIptYKFL2gnsO5pi5Dhx1XiFKvMvp0nbV7-kCDXFVYcJDTCU178nez4-6xyDjtNBU8C02N1FNbtbzAiB_-FQ/s487/granny%20choices.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="364" data-original-width="487" height="152" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4iNwXGkKusXrJG7C6AreDwG5GJGnmTKaaWcGOnxAP88eZOAT_nAyp0QAuwf7YNIkpT6D46qgFChcwANdhiVeqHYhEXHCfWC9cioeHLhbsIptYKFL2gnsO5pi5Dhx1XiFKvMvp0nbV7-kCDXFVYcJDTCU178nez4-6xyDjtNBU8C02N1FNbtbzAiB_-FQ/w204-h152/granny%20choices.jpg" width="204" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I started with a Microsoft Office 365 course to "get my feet wet" and upskill from what I already knew. My next course covered Excel, from basic to advanced, which really helped me understand how Excel can be used for more than just accounting. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">For my third course, I chose Google's Project Management course, which is a professional certificate course. I'm not sure what I was expecting from this one, but it's the first one that I've felt "meh" about. I'm not sure if it's because I don't find the material engaging enough, or if I'm just not feeling "project manager-y". I started the course in November, and I got through the first module, but with Thanksgiving and Christmas, plus the changes at work, I put it on the back burner and only went back to reset my deadlines. I decided yesterday to get back to it, since the holidays are past and things at work have calmed down some. I'm still feeling rather "meh" about it, but I'm committing to finish it.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVoyc_94GCCNOfJwlMtFHDVDdGO3a2Uc7vZSwWiHEGcOBRxx_mMMKVSX9L26EChaMeXZ-vlzncs0PgRhAaUQvTj3xxaebNHF2caKAzsfo-lUCOeFkj0DbVn3NhsYpGuKF_CSXXZmGJcR18RnVevWcu6qWXnc1uabiB4mI4FtAoE_XC56Ip2IEljI8bl-Q/s484/lost%20interest.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="362" data-original-width="484" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVoyc_94GCCNOfJwlMtFHDVDdGO3a2Uc7vZSwWiHEGcOBRxx_mMMKVSX9L26EChaMeXZ-vlzncs0PgRhAaUQvTj3xxaebNHF2caKAzsfo-lUCOeFkj0DbVn3NhsYpGuKF_CSXXZmGJcR18RnVevWcu6qWXnc1uabiB4mI4FtAoE_XC56Ip2IEljI8bl-Q/w204-h153/lost%20interest.jpg" width="204" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">While I was in Coursera, I decided to see if I could enroll in more than one course at a time, and I was pleasantly surprised to find that I <i>could</i>, so I went to my saved courses and enrolled in another Google professional certificate course: Data Analytics. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ZmDEAix4NYwE6oowJKsKNQBT0Z1km5Nln6x77D842ZsYKmc3k1zlucSUqeeIUn2WRvpI9OVTL8fMZJvoThx9oeftNOQ873EsJ3sriWpIc1ryzEqZ7hh3CvUMJOJbPUUpAHMr8kBDFcZZiqIrVlIcnac06S8lSx0ujMs8O5WFziY5X1V091G8J_gnVZE/s490/confused%20math%20lady.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="319" data-original-width="490" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ZmDEAix4NYwE6oowJKsKNQBT0Z1km5Nln6x77D842ZsYKmc3k1zlucSUqeeIUn2WRvpI9OVTL8fMZJvoThx9oeftNOQ873EsJ3sriWpIc1ryzEqZ7hh3CvUMJOJbPUUpAHMr8kBDFcZZiqIrVlIcnac06S8lSx0ujMs8O5WFziY5X1V091G8J_gnVZE/w320-h208/confused%20math%20lady.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This course seems to be more suited to my interests and learning style, and I'm excited to get started on it. π </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I started taking these courses before I started treatment for ADHD, so I'm curious to find out if I have an easier time learning and completing the graded assessments. In the previous courses, I did fairly well, but I struggled a bit with the Excel course's more advanced modules. I figured out early on that the problem was information retrieval, but without any kind of medication, all I could do was push through and hope for the best. Now that I'm getting treatment, I'm hoping to see a big improvement. ππ€</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Now that 2024 is well underway, I feel good about the possibilities. π I'm always optimistic about the future, though. π</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Be blessed, and be a blessing! π</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Megan</span></div></div>Mrs. Boneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11292877147514307655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5797755101733537515.post-68931887628241852142024-01-13T01:21:00.000-06:002024-01-13T01:21:09.383-06:00You Don't Have to Be Crazy to Work Here (But it Helps)<p><span style="font-family: arial;">Greetings, y'all! ππ</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">It's the weekend again! ππ₯³ I know <i>I'm</i> glad the week is over! π</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I talked a bit about my job in a previous post, along with new responsibilities and more work. As we move into the third week of 2024, things are going a lot smoother. There are still a few wrinkles that need to be ironed out, but for the most part, my plan seems to be working out okay. </span></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9H4a-pH-mAD_dDa7XjaCVKHVt9LL9S3Se347C6bhUJtrYvvknll13MBraQwq8FsrYodvXlGibYfdWfApkjpPOipxmdMnE959KuiQOUMqo9Sg3J3-2ik34y5vM0HCz-nbqLB-TV2nlptMVz3HlfjnD1ZYvlZezVPgLSWvSIEM0ff44oAWriR79bfzUy3Y/s1100/this-is-fine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="554" data-original-width="1100" height="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9H4a-pH-mAD_dDa7XjaCVKHVt9LL9S3Se347C6bhUJtrYvvknll13MBraQwq8FsrYodvXlGibYfdWfApkjpPOipxmdMnE959KuiQOUMqo9Sg3J3-2ik34y5vM0HCz-nbqLB-TV2nlptMVz3HlfjnD1ZYvlZezVPgLSWvSIEM0ff44oAWriR79bfzUy3Y/s320/this-is-fine.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Being an independent contractor and working from home has been interesting. There are many advantages - short commute, no dress code, I can pretty much set my own schedule, and I don't have to put on my "customer service" face. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis3TDMc4vIwb8DwUVNA5gsI_QJFL3egTi5YZrb0-HgujrKJa3phfkJTZwwzwFxr_sG3SQxhcHM9ZUn8NatSi1j2JXpwYyakRuxUT4fuSm8LmHs_vYBnjwDAZ1weaJqP7T80zyGr2nlYwSAfoIAqjjHBAKF8r-EU3_YD4jgzA-1_S6Qz2hEekDQPJ41Y98/s492/customer%20service%20face.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="362" data-original-width="492" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis3TDMc4vIwb8DwUVNA5gsI_QJFL3egTi5YZrb0-HgujrKJa3phfkJTZwwzwFxr_sG3SQxhcHM9ZUn8NatSi1j2JXpwYyakRuxUT4fuSm8LmHs_vYBnjwDAZ1weaJqP7T80zyGr2nlYwSAfoIAqjjHBAKF8r-EU3_YD4jgzA-1_S6Qz2hEekDQPJ41Y98/s320/customer%20service%20face.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">One disadvantage (aside from being responsible for <i>all</i> the employment taxes) is that it can be somewhat isolating working from home. Don't get me wrong, I'm not champing at the bit to start working in some office somewhere, but when your coworkers are scattered all over the <i>globe</i>, "socializing" is a bit more difficult.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL7p7LS5YzGWdlA033eKFWy1JmzlHWF4XrDWcYdVfXFP6iT6kFP3vYjB3QR7hTelI034d9ISxvb-rDggdwKlRl3KAPFIl0f26uRY_3g9u6Y-9Fw8U2GH0CKvo0fILiZrQloOdWztZ7Q5Osyz97lkeysFi6N25-AUdWH9DbVFrdgr2gWIt7qobjoBBJgXo/s488/that%20would%20be%20great.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="410" data-original-width="488" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL7p7LS5YzGWdlA033eKFWy1JmzlHWF4XrDWcYdVfXFP6iT6kFP3vYjB3QR7hTelI034d9ISxvb-rDggdwKlRl3KAPFIl0f26uRY_3g9u6Y-9Fw8U2GH0CKvo0fILiZrQloOdWztZ7Q5Osyz97lkeysFi6N25-AUdWH9DbVFrdgr2gWIt7qobjoBBJgXo/w260-h219/that%20would%20be%20great.jpg" width="260" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;">Thankfully, my coworkers and I have Teams available to chat - I mean, <i>collaborate</i>. π We do actually collaborate on tasks when it's necessary, but we also engage in "water cooler chat", and I've met some great people from all over the world. I have coworkers in Brazil, Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Indonesia, Philippines, Ethiopia, Kenya, Mexico, and various places across the US, as well. I've also worked with folks in India, Sweden, and Myanmar. Not everyone is a chatterbox, but it's been nice to find out about other countries and cultures. I also get opportunities to share south Louisiana's culture (which even in the US can seem foreign π). </div></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgThoY6FDKqs8AwU85F3YAS2BoJyPBFLZ-Unl85XOZc8BX-lHTcoKFiopof3ObrTx1wbze4napvJ-Vjcgm-w462__pvu4kRgyeWUDZHQ8z77A9bWh7Y4KwMlnP9Fj6ZLuTa5zS9S7OTqwAqHhZ4sTXReLmAu5TcIqnjpHbIUKOGxH9P3SETbCiHd2Ww-jE/s490/swamp%20ppl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="270" data-original-width="490" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgThoY6FDKqs8AwU85F3YAS2BoJyPBFLZ-Unl85XOZc8BX-lHTcoKFiopof3ObrTx1wbze4napvJ-Vjcgm-w462__pvu4kRgyeWUDZHQ8z77A9bWh7Y4KwMlnP9Fj6ZLuTa5zS9S7OTqwAqHhZ4sTXReLmAu5TcIqnjpHbIUKOGxH9P3SETbCiHd2Ww-jE/w382-h210/swamp%20ppl.jpg" width="382" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Troy Landry from "Swamp People"</span></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I've been blessed to have coworkers who aren't about workplace drama. Some of them have had the unfortunate experience of being subjected to bullying and outright hostility in the workplace, and they make it a point to try to foster a friendly, welcoming environment where disagreements are handled in a constructive manner. For the most part, it's been a success. π It probably helps that we're all in our individual spaces and can just hit the X in the upper right corner of the screen if we get annoyed. π</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8SQsw43DK0Dd7nvdHkj6G87ND5Pe0r7YruxHV1eZHdVz6s5J762XcYaGuaT5RuPczs1yQpDsiaVydHetB87pTtfDOeav7tK4P-bGNRwNGiSTw9TXxm5gFVfrsFwmwtVrEqZR06-JZzNL3LMfbjrty9Msodj_2SwxPK2tNjF9S1paqHcXlVysjaVJHf0k/s360/blinds%20closed.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="271" data-original-width="360" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8SQsw43DK0Dd7nvdHkj6G87ND5Pe0r7YruxHV1eZHdVz6s5J762XcYaGuaT5RuPczs1yQpDsiaVydHetB87pTtfDOeav7tK4P-bGNRwNGiSTw9TXxm5gFVfrsFwmwtVrEqZR06-JZzNL3LMfbjrty9Msodj_2SwxPK2tNjF9S1paqHcXlVysjaVJHf0k/s320/blinds%20closed.gif" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">My coworkers are some of the best people I've never met. π We've been through a lot together these past few years, and we've shared our ups and downs with each other. We celebrate each others' victories, and we mourn each others' losses. We've made a pretty tight-knit team, and I'm thankful for each and every one of them.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Working from home is not for everyone, and not all work-from-home jobs offer the flexibility that mine does. I <i>don't</i> have to stay chained to my desk all day and <i>look like</i> I'm being productive (whether I am or not), and I have <i>some</i> freedom to work in a way that works best <i>for me</i>. I do still have some work to do on my time management skills (maybe if I didn't <i>SOCIALIZE</i> so much...), but that's improving with medication. π I don't know if I'll <i>always</i> work from home, but I'll do it for as long as I possibly can.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Be blessed, and be a blessing! π </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Megan</span></div><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><br /></i></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /> </span></div><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p></p>Mrs. Boneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11292877147514307655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5797755101733537515.post-15007784140060603822024-01-12T22:30:00.000-06:002024-01-12T22:30:25.955-06:00Just Dropped In (To See What Condition My Condition Was In)<p><span style="font-family: arial;">Greetings, y'all! ππ</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I'm going back in time with this post; back to when I was young and didn't have bills to pay, when $5 was gas money, and when MTV still played music videos.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht_vCuqPSaol2WZc93KPQmpWdxiuF8F_l0CUTflaWIS7_RbHLvAOy1D0GDkFca4lDefCbd08bTO79k1V-Mc2BTb4tyGHnrdWThOe7Ev_T_LeLZXmOksenEGltXTJHjrXKAtb3jLNJ-RtaEMsNsKlm3GTacbhZuydzcA-e_ufUa6ko1YR-AYgkxvieVyV4/s1494/reading%20girl.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1494" data-original-width="1445" height="157" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht_vCuqPSaol2WZc93KPQmpWdxiuF8F_l0CUTflaWIS7_RbHLvAOy1D0GDkFca4lDefCbd08bTO79k1V-Mc2BTb4tyGHnrdWThOe7Ev_T_LeLZXmOksenEGltXTJHjrXKAtb3jLNJ-RtaEMsNsKlm3GTacbhZuydzcA-e_ufUa6ko1YR-AYgkxvieVyV4/w152-h157/reading%20girl.png" width="152" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV0tLj4uyR1-vA8ZZn0pFvAQCyULN4RJBDD_BXHFsmmohyezqlW7o6k-aDvpUaBoK2JFdbSK8Iy4hz8_YWeHxdTIfH7TZ1x7Hz2vJ_jDTWHj9vC0Jt067MlvYIU2R3-z8MVjlRVakuY3N8Nvo2Un9w6cVuYG7cpoPl8XPw8DzKTnORHr5eiFjNvv89KSg/s992/cheap%20gas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="744" data-original-width="992" height="128" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV0tLj4uyR1-vA8ZZn0pFvAQCyULN4RJBDD_BXHFsmmohyezqlW7o6k-aDvpUaBoK2JFdbSK8Iy4hz8_YWeHxdTIfH7TZ1x7Hz2vJ_jDTWHj9vC0Jt067MlvYIU2R3-z8MVjlRVakuY3N8Nvo2Un9w6cVuYG7cpoPl8XPw8DzKTnORHr5eiFjNvv89KSg/w171-h128/cheap%20gas.jpg" width="171" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU5Rlh__hjdMXnWtIOk3oz-xpdOV8OsXx6CQMdSd3hDu2SdMu8HMqA_u4oxEJkmYd_BB_W6dqm_n2VrtTKmqerepol2iphaVU6sqevGxXIiMiWJiwLSep4-fTTBaEd1hwrRity6WAod2P5xMBVor6JItoJ4W8wEt4XxlmXm0NZrYkFbdutLv5-EmLdSP0/s2560/2560px-MTV-Logo.svg.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2035" data-original-width="2560" height="89" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU5Rlh__hjdMXnWtIOk3oz-xpdOV8OsXx6CQMdSd3hDu2SdMu8HMqA_u4oxEJkmYd_BB_W6dqm_n2VrtTKmqerepol2iphaVU6sqevGxXIiMiWJiwLSep4-fTTBaEd1hwrRity6WAod2P5xMBVor6JItoJ4W8wEt4XxlmXm0NZrYkFbdutLv5-EmLdSP0/w113-h89/2560px-MTV-Logo.svg.png" width="113" /></a></div><br /></div></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">When I was in early elementary school, I was a straight-A student, and by late elementary school, I was still making mostly As, with the occasional B grade on my report card (but they were very few and far between). I <i>wasn't</i> one of those kids who <i>never</i> had to study, but I didn't struggle to make good grades. I read well above my grade level, and I was really good at spelling. π At that point, we were learning the very basics of math, and back then we learned "math facts" mostly by memorization. Once I got the math facts down, I did pretty well in that subject, too. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">By the time I got to high school, I was still making pretty good grades in everything but math (I got my first F, </span><i style="font-family: arial;">ever</i><span style="font-family: arial;">, on my report card in algebra, and I barely passed geometry). It was during this time that I discovered I might have ADHD.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">My reasoning for bringing this up is not to brag about how smart I was in school, but to highlight the fact that back then, a lot of kids who were struggling with ADHD fell through the cracks because they weren't disruptive in class, and they made good grades. Additionally, ADHD was thought of as a "boys' disorder", which meant that a lot of </span><i style="font-family: arial;">girls</i><span style="font-family: arial;"> went untested and untreated. My younger brother displayed all the "classic" signs of ADHD by the time he was in 2nd grade, and the school recommended that my parents have him tested. He was diagnosed and started on medication, and the difference was night and day (he has other issues that weren't diagnosed until he was an adult, but that's a topic for another day). As it turned out, I was one of the "smart girl" kids who fell through the cracks due to the medical consensus at the time.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I didn't know it then, but by the time I reached adulthood, I figured out that my struggles with the more advanced math had very little to do with my intelligence, and a whole lot to do with my ability to organize, in my mind, the information I was being given.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Imagine a filing cabinet stuffed full of folders with papers sticking out here and there. There's <i>some</i> semblance of order, in that each folder's contents match the label on the folder, but there's no real organization in each folder. Each time you're given papers to file, you put them in the correct <i>folder</i>, but not necessarily in the correct <i>order</i>. Later on, when it's time to retrieve those papers, you know which folder to look in, but you have to sift through <i>all</i> the papers to find the ones you need, and by the time you finally find all the correct papers, you're given more papers to file, and the cycle continues. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">This is what I mean when I talk about the "noise" in my mind - all the information is there, but there's very little <i>order</i>, and I have to sift through all the random bits that are somewhat related before I can get to the important parts, and I need that information sorted and collated and ready <i>now</i>. An illustration:</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoMwiD5SjC-ncfzHcbZdtrW0Nh0KdpgUJ1VGIrujidZ0uFISvjSZeVy1qojZPrsuO9AErC4s2WViuZ0Q_6LkmVW6MKq7gwI31EtXHkwzWObSXsU8I0v4dWJSwem6Ej6wRc0i0gY6lGv88FOVZhQsroTuSG2AJ6coxR8eNvngaABmNbRcMuBoxmrWWvLVQ/s637/spongebob%20brain%20fire.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="637" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoMwiD5SjC-ncfzHcbZdtrW0Nh0KdpgUJ1VGIrujidZ0uFISvjSZeVy1qojZPrsuO9AErC4s2WViuZ0Q_6LkmVW6MKq7gwI31EtXHkwzWObSXsU8I0v4dWJSwem6Ej6wRc0i0gY6lGv88FOVZhQsroTuSG2AJ6coxR8eNvngaABmNbRcMuBoxmrWWvLVQ/s320/spongebob%20brain%20fire.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">It gets exhausting. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Over the years, I've tried different strategies to manage my ADHD. Some have worked well, such as making a schedule and sticking to it. Others, like making lists, not so much. I've tried several "natural supplements" that claim to help you focus and deal with distractions - "herbal Ritalin" so to speak, but they didn't do a thing for me except lighten my wallet. What I found that <i>does</i> work for me is <i>actual</i> Ritalin, and since I've started taking it, it has made a big difference in how I feel and how my brain processes, stores, and retrieves information. My care provider and I are fine-tuning the dosage, but I feel like we're very close to what I call "just right". </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Be blessed, and be a blessing!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Megan</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p>Mrs. Boneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11292877147514307655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5797755101733537515.post-87855278923593192962024-01-02T21:37:00.000-06:002024-01-02T21:41:21.224-06:00How'd I end up *here*, and how do I get *back*? (β¨The Side Questβ¨)<p><span style="font-family: arial;">Greetings, y'all! ππ</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In a previous post, I mentioned that I was almost caught by β¨The Side Questβ¨ (yes, the sparkles are necessary), and how it's the main culprit in my poor time management issues. I wanted to expand on that a bit more here. π</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Maybe you've heard someone say, "I fell down the rabbit hole." or "I followed a rabbit trail, and now I don't remember where I started." when talking about starting out on one thing and during the course of whatever it is they're doing, their attention moves to something else they see, so they follow <i>that, </i>and then something <i>else</i> grabs their attention so they follow that <i>other</i> thing, and so forth. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">If you've found yourself scrolling social media, and hours later you're on some obscure website that's totally unrelated to what you started out viewing, or if you're having a conversation with someone and find yourself going off on a tangent, congratulations! You've been hijacked by </span><span style="font-family: arial;">β¨The Side Questβ¨! </span></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiUeAZ-aifN_29LGnz6LevcVqquGQAHxgMLL1NsfEsPO2mxRycMbM9-BgZqVLZpBCJ_N2EKh8rxMz_kRl_AcdRq3uJAUgznk0CYmPPXIfGdVis_IBrK4PWCFbIflfOXqDPgygwOzd63nam8OPulmPX1IPjz13NwlK08LBKhsxV2qDn4ZQqv6ahzdqhvWn8" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="843" data-original-width="600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiUeAZ-aifN_29LGnz6LevcVqquGQAHxgMLL1NsfEsPO2mxRycMbM9-BgZqVLZpBCJ_N2EKh8rxMz_kRl_AcdRq3uJAUgznk0CYmPPXIfGdVis_IBrK4PWCFbIflfOXqDPgygwOzd63nam8OPulmPX1IPjz13NwlK08LBKhsxV2qDn4ZQqv6ahzdqhvWn8" width="171" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">With the internet, it's very easy to start off in one place and follow links here and there until you're reading (or watching) something you may not even have known existed, or you've gotten a glimpse into the life of your best friend's cousin's sister's third ex husband's fourth wife's boyfriend's ex-father-in-law's cousin's youngest grandchild's aunt on his mother's side.</span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR10yP2Nsm17VjUXgCg4VgAr9VHeNDe8yEIKmkawZrthS0_1dtbNZ2AwM-5-UoB9vK0KC7f-1U06MGw3zeRKfwYqHaf9eoci86_yw3FymYce6HWBZ3fhWKwjVirTUh5Kpz7D5fivThTGeuI9Rqcu2uFPaaNZcLD_1Ix0ZG6Xgl6DowXt7A5T_kW50k-EU/s480/who%20are%20you%20people.gif" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="480" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR10yP2Nsm17VjUXgCg4VgAr9VHeNDe8yEIKmkawZrthS0_1dtbNZ2AwM-5-UoB9vK0KC7f-1U06MGw3zeRKfwYqHaf9eoci86_yw3FymYce6HWBZ3fhWKwjVirTUh5Kpz7D5fivThTGeuI9Rqcu2uFPaaNZcLD_1Ix0ZG6Xgl6DowXt7A5T_kW50k-EU/s320/who%20are%20you%20people.gif" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;">β¨The Side Questβ¨ has led me down some interesting paths online, and I've learned a lot of things (some of them useful) that I otherwise wouldn't have, had I not followed the rabbit trails. I've also had some really cool conversations (and met some really cool people) following conversational tangents. π Unfortunately, there's a dark side to β¨The Side Questβ¨ that takes a bit of shine off the sparkles; it can be a massive time suck. π</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjroZb6_ECDyawMF0aHyZIdK3PKpvEK7pUb4lLWJjLjf22P08DxsANalDxC_kUGT2DL9vG1HGtzezgDTi1dX9xyaCuI00lJrD-6-IkxygeW_FauZVOcylSux0RaLTWK209JE213CYDoMmtsqhWlTukaC0N6QN3ytnpeffZCPhuKaMZ6mNkL-8txFd1YwmE" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="548" data-original-width="435" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjroZb6_ECDyawMF0aHyZIdK3PKpvEK7pUb4lLWJjLjf22P08DxsANalDxC_kUGT2DL9vG1HGtzezgDTi1dX9xyaCuI00lJrD-6-IkxygeW_FauZVOcylSux0RaLTWK209JE213CYDoMmtsqhWlTukaC0N6QN3ytnpeffZCPhuKaMZ6mNkL-8txFd1YwmE" width="191" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;">It's very frustrating to take the time to plan out a project and begin working on it, only to get sidetracked. What happens to me most often is that I'll think of something that is "project-adjacent" and jump to <i>that</i>, and then the cycle continues until I have a string of unfinished tasks behind me, and I've lost track of what I'd planned to do to begin with. My train of thought jumps the tracks <i>a lot</i>. π</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;">In my work, I have defined tasks and deadlines, so I can't go wandering off with β¨The Side Questβ¨ <i>too</i> far, but it still catches me now and then. For instance, I may be looking for a particular file, and I'll notice that the file directory is disorganized. Instead of getting the file I was after, I'll make new folders and organize the directory. Since it's shared, I have to notify others that the files are now in new folders. After <i>that's</i> done, then I'll see a message or two that I missed, so I'll catch up on messages, and by this time, an hour has passed, and I still haven't gotten the file I needed for the task I was on originally (whatever <i>that</i> was). Calgon, take me away! π±</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjNE8YDNcs9SlAVWu-2NzvFHj8UsiTyXZ-Lv8wE7HReRRCedRBi1ZcPrqZ-9NQdYq_LrKVSACGILA3uu0n2rkN4d80u9gmBo_NzYa-xXLZxEErWkWxZ7g-8TnAILL7lRbYOOBge-ysscEUIBoV-K_pK7ESm3P0y7uOORSC4AuSMNmigqFZWIMZP_ilS1Qc" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="478" data-original-width="585" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjNE8YDNcs9SlAVWu-2NzvFHj8UsiTyXZ-Lv8wE7HReRRCedRBi1ZcPrqZ-9NQdYq_LrKVSACGILA3uu0n2rkN4d80u9gmBo_NzYa-xXLZxEErWkWxZ7g-8TnAILL7lRbYOOBge-ysscEUIBoV-K_pK7ESm3P0y7uOORSC4AuSMNmigqFZWIMZP_ilS1Qc" width="294" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;">Since I've been on medication to treat my ADHD, β¨The Side Questβ¨ hasn't been able to hijack me <i style="font-weight: bold;">as</i> often, but I've been able to recognize it sooner when it <i>does</i>, so it's a little easier to get back on task. My healthcare professional and I are still working out which medication and dosage is the most effective to manage the symptoms without <i>over</i>medicating. I feel like we're very close to the "sweet spot". </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;">For so many years, I struggled and tried to cope with ADHD, figuring it was too late to do anything about it, since I'm not a kid or a teen (or even a young adult) any more. It wasn't until I read personal stories from people around my age (and a few who are older) who sought a diagnosis and treatment, <i>and got it,</i> that I saw a glimmer of hope that maybe it <i>wasn't</i> too late. And here we are today. π</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;">Be blessed, and be a blessing! π</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;">Megan</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><br /></div><p></p>Mrs. Boneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11292877147514307655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5797755101733537515.post-59260424350565151502024-01-01T00:00:00.000-06:002024-01-01T00:00:19.961-06:00Out With the Old (And In With the New)<p><span style="font-family: arial;">Greetings, y'all! ππ</span> </p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">As I write this, it's 10 minutes until midnight on December 31, 2023. We decided to spend New Year's Eve at home this year instead of going out. None of us are really in a "party" mood, and it's cheaper to stay home than it is to go out. π </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Looking back on 2023, I can say that we had a pretty good year (for the most part). We definitely had more ups than downs, and after back-to-back years with major hurricanes hitting Louisiana, it was a welcome relief when no storms threatened us this year. π Our youngest child turned 21 this year, and hubby and I marked 30 years of marriage. π°π€΅π </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I'm looking forward to what 2024 brings. π I'm sure there will be highs and lows, just like every other year. My prayer for 2024 is that whatever storms (literal or figurative) come our way, we'll weather them and emerge on the other side with the strength to keep going forward, and that I am able to continue to make personal progress in the areas of my life that need improvement. π </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Out with the old, in with the new! Happy New Year! </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Be blessed, and be a blessing! π</span></p>Mrs. Boneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11292877147514307655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5797755101733537515.post-74340838560968176892023-12-30T03:54:00.000-06:002023-12-30T03:54:06.352-06:00Time Keeps on Slippin' (Slippin', Slippin')<p><span style="font-family: arial;">Happy Saturday, y'all! Welcome to the weekend! ππ₯³</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">By the way, there's no TL;DR. I suffer from diarrhea of the keyboard. β¨ Even my text messages are novellas. π The beauty of reading the written word, however, is that you can take a break and go do something else, π then come back and pick up where you left off (And I won't know, because I can't see you... or can I? π) </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Here we are at the end of the last week of 2023. In just 2 days it'll be 2024. It seems like only a few weeks ago we were at the <i>beginning</i> of <i>2023</i>! </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I've had some time to think about time over the past few days. Mostly, I've thought about how it flies by, and how it seems like there's never enough of it to get everything done that I need to do. I've also been frustrated when something I feel shouldn't take long at all ends up sucking up much more time than I anticipated. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I've been blessed for the past 4 years to have a remote job that allows me to work from home. It's nothing glamorous or prestigious (or illegal), and the pay could be a <i>lot</i> better, but it's the type of work that's perfect for my introverted self. π That being said, it's not all sunshine and roses and lazy days on the couch. It's <i>work</i>, and sometimes it gets to be a drag. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Over the past 2 weeks, our processes and procedures got a major overhaul, and it's been... "interesting", to put it mildly. π Along with those changes, I was promoted to a "senior" position which came with a 7% pay raise (80 cents an hour more, but putting it as a percentage makes it look like a lot π), a shiny new title (Senior Quality Auditor π), and a truckload of new responsibilities (no comment πΆ). I'm very happy that my hard work has been recognized. I <i>earned</i> the promotion, the pay raise, and yes, even the truckload of responsibilities. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The adjustment to all these changes has been more difficult than I expected, and I admit, I stumbled <i>hard</i> out of the gate. Time management has always been a struggle for me, which I've discovered is fairly common in people with ADHD. The biggest contributor to my poor time management is β¨The Side Questβ¨ (which almost caught me just now), which I will get to in another post. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Anyway, where was I? π€ Oh, yeah! Tripping over my expectations and falling on my face. Right. So yeah, these new processes and procedures have necessarily led to reassigning tasks and reorganizing timelines and deadlines. Before my promotion, when I was just a regular Quality Auditor, one of my responsibilities was to write a weekly document that went out to my assigned market's people (who are in India and speak and read Hindi. I'm in Louisiana and speak English-ish). The document isn't overly long, but it's more complex to put together than it looks. With the reorganization and promotion, I'm now responsible for writing a weekly document for each of <i>15</i> markets (with 10 different languages among them). π <i>A quick note about languages</i> - The documents I write are in English for all the markets, but there are items <i>from</i> each of those 10 foreign (to me) language markets that I have to translate for <i>my</i> understanding. Google Translate and I are like this π€.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Now that I've given the super-summarized (no, really) background info, here's where things went sideways: when I was assigned to write <i>all</i> the documents, I thought, "Ehh. Yeah, it's more work, but I won't have to do this other thing that took up a lot of my time, so it should be super easy; barely an inconvenience!" Oh, ho, ho, was <i>I</i> mistaken about <i>that</i>! π¬ </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I failed to do the math and extrapolate the results, so I was not prepared (<i>so</i> not prepared) when it came time to do the work and have it ready by the deadline. You see, I <i>knew</i> it took me an average of 1.5 hours to write my one document. What I <i>didn't</i> take into account was that it would most likely take <i>at least</i> that amount of time to write <i>each</i> of <i>15</i> documents (which calculates to 22.5 hours), and I have other responsibilities besides that (which I also failed to take into account). </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I did not meet the deadline that first week. I didn't even get all the documents written, in addition to other tasks that didn't get done. I faceplanted into a pile of unmet expectations. π Thankfully, our management is very understanding, and knew that things wouldn't go very smoothly at first. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">This week, the second week, I thought I had it all figured out, but I found myself scrambling to finish my tasks again. At least this week I got all my documents written. They were late (again), but I covered all the markets this time (and management was still very understanding). It wasn't until I clocked out and looked at my time sheet that it occurred to me to "do the math". It was certainly an eye-opener! </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Now that I have a baseline number to work with, I need to make a real plan. I'll be spending time over the weekend working on that so I can start the new year with realistic expectations (New year, new me!). π</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Be blessed, and be a blessing! π</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Megan</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Coming Soon: </span><span style="font-family: arial;">"How'd I end up <i>here</i>, and how do I get <i>back</i>? (</span><span style="font-family: arial;">β¨The Side Questβ¨)"</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p>Mrs. Boneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11292877147514307655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5797755101733537515.post-31263665289779137602023-12-24T13:47:00.000-06:002023-12-24T13:52:12.680-06:00Ain't it Funny (How Time Slips Away)?<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Well, hello there! ππ My, it's been a long, long time. π</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Since my last post, we've had 2 presidents, and <i>both</i> of my kids are now adults. I've also moved house twice, and we survived the CoVID-19 pandemic of 2020. I've also had a work-from-home job for the past 4 years, and I've been promoted twice. There's been a lot of water that's passed under the bridge, and it would take several posts to even begin to document how life has gone on and how it has changed. Fear not, dear reader, I won't bore you with the minutiae. π </span><div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">I've recently received a life-changing (for the good) diagnosis of ADHD, and I've begun treatment for it. I'm in my second month of medication trials (personal, not clinical), and my healthcare provider and I are working together to get just the right medication and dosage to help me best manage the symptoms so that I can "live up to my potential". </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">After my diagnosis (which was really a confirmation 32 years in the making), I started thinking about documenting my past experiences and my new path going forward, and I remembered this blog and wondered if it was still available. I post a lot on Facebook, but I think this is a better platform for longer posts, and it was just <i>sitting here</i>, dusty and mostly forgotten... </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">Anyway, I found the keys to the blog, blew the dust off it, and it looks like it just needs some fresh gas to run like a top again. ππ </span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">What this blog will <i style="font-weight: bold;">NOT</i> be: </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: arial;">A forum to diagnose, treat, or cure any disease or disorder. Get your own diagnosis & treatment from a competent, licensed medical professional!</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">A forum for medical advice. I'm not a doctor, nor do I play one on TV or the internet. I did not stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night (or any other night), and my medical degree from Google U doesn't exist. Any mentions of medications, home remedies, "alternative treatments", or things that I tried that worked for me are strictly anecdotal and given for the purposes of illustration <b><i>only</i></b>. Again, seek medical advice from a competent, licensed medical professional!</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">A single-issue blog. I'm not trying to be another "ADHD Blogger", and I don't intend to focus <i>solely</i> on ADHD, whether it's mine or the disorder in general. It's <i>part</i> of my life, but it's not my <i>entire</i> life, and sometimes I just want to write about random things that come to mind. </span></li></ul><span style="font-family: arial;">Whether this is an exercise in "talking to myself" (which people who know me "IRL" have actually witnessed), or someone reads it and gets something from it, writing helps keep my mind active, and sometimes writing things out helps me get some perspective on problems or other issues that come up. </span></div></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">So, "Welcome!" if you're new, or "Welcome back!" if you've been here before. π Grab a beverage and a snack (the coffee's always fresh), have a seat, and enjoy the ride. π</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">Megan</span></div><div><br /></div>Mrs. Boneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11292877147514307655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5797755101733537515.post-17289366887853268782013-09-21T22:11:00.002-05:002013-09-21T22:11:54.901-05:00Random Thoughts (Now in Color!)<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Some of you may remember when color television was a new thing, and shows boasted that they were broadcast IN COLOR (!!). Series that started out in black and white made the switch to NOW IN COLOR (!!!). By the time I was a regular viewer of television, everything was in color, so it wasn't a big deal. My generation saw the birth of NOW IN HIGH DEFINITION (!!!!). I don't know what the next innovation will be, but you can bet it'll have at least 5 exclamation points.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Did you know that at one time, one of the selling points of Crisco shortening was that it was digestible? The can on which I observed this bit of marketing genius was old, but it couldn't have been more than 30 years old, and shortening has been around much longer than that. Remarkably, however, the can had remained unopened until 2009, and the product was still good! The (now-empty) can has been saved for posterity.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyone who has seen an infomercial has witnessed the hilarious (but often head-scratching) difficulties using such items as jars of mixed fruit, small appliances that have an evil agenda, and even the humble blanket. When the original Perfect Pancake pan came out, my family and I sat in awe as footage (in black and white, of course) rolled showing a glop of pancake batter being dropped in about an inch of grease in an ordinary skillet. The voiceover lamented that everyone loves pancakes, but "<i>ALL that added FAT!!!" </i>The scene switches to a pair of hands breaking open an egg into a stainless steel<i> </i>skillet. The voiceover complains that eggs stick and make a mess as a spatula-wielding hand attempts to flip the egg cooking in a skillet with <i>no oil whatsoever.</i> Enter (IN COLOR!!) the Perfect Pancake pan! After seeing that infomercial, any time an ad comes on TV showing morons trying to do simple tasks (and failing miserably), we look at each other and say, "Deep fried pancakes, dry-fried eggs!" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There are a few infomercial products that fill a niche, and they perform as advertised. A great many, however, are "variations on a theme", and the tasks the products are meant to make easier really aren't all that difficult to begin with. As an old neighbor told my dad one day, "That's for selling, not for buying." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have to give props to the infomercial actors, though. I can't imagine how hard it must be to not only act as though they haven't a brain in their head, but go out into the public knowing that everyone thinks they're an idiot. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The first cool front of the season pushed through today! :-D The cooler temperatures won't last long, but it's a welcome respite from the humid heat. Come on, Fall! :-D </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Have a blessed day! :-) </span><br />
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Mrs. Boneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11292877147514307655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5797755101733537515.post-77831771372589374102013-09-17T23:35:00.000-05:002013-09-17T23:35:51.840-05:00Today's the Day! (Seize It!)<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The best time, for me, is just before the sun peeks over the horizon. The countryside is still quiet, still in its slumber, and the air is cool and fresh. </span><div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There's a feeling of anticipation, of <i>possibility. </i>A new day is dawning, and with the rising sun come hopes and dreams, that <i>today </i>will be the best day ever. Yesterday's disappointments are but a memory, gone with the darkness. <i>Today</i> is here! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't often get the opportunity to greet the dawn, and when I <i>do</i>, it's usually because I didn't sleep the night before. It's still my favorite time of day, though. It's wonderful to sit on the front steps with a cup of coffee in hand and watch and listen to the world waking up. Birds sing their morning music, the dog stretches and shakes off the night (and then does her "feed me" dance), and people get ready to start their day. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I realize the irony of a post about early morning written late at night. Like a square wheel, that's how I roll - ironically. ;-)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Take the time to have some quiet contemplation. Spend some time with God. Pray a prayer and dream some dreams. Dare to hope, and love your neighbor! And for goodness' sake, <i>LAUGH</i>! :-D </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Have a blessed day!</span></div>
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Mrs. Boneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11292877147514307655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5797755101733537515.post-66534830121697675442013-09-16T04:01:00.001-05:002013-09-16T04:01:19.110-05:00Write What You Know (Or, You Know, Write)<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Another summer is drawing to a close. I'm not expecting cooler weather for another month or so, though. I've survived my second summer without air conditioning, and this one was easier than the last. Fans make a HUGE difference! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Insomnia has been my faithful companion for the past couple weeks. I don't think it would be so bad if I were able to get things done around here, but there are some things that have to be done during daylight hours, and not being able to sleep doesn't necessarily mean I'm not tired.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Everyday living has pushed blogging past the back burner and into that drawer everyone has that collects bits and pieces of future projects or things that will be useful one day (so don't throw it out!). At one time, I blogged on myspace just about every day. The writing was cathartic. I got away from writing shortly after hurricane Ike (2008), because I had no regular internet access. After that, well, let's just say I had more pressing matters to attend. The pressing matters are still there (and there are <i>always </i>pressing matters). I find, however, that the old noggin is getting lazy, and I need the mental exercise.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's time to open the drawer and pull out some of those bits and pieces and see if I can make something nice. :-) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Have a blessed day! :-) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Mrs. Boneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11292877147514307655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5797755101733537515.post-33392171974175106432011-08-24T03:50:00.000-05:002011-08-24T03:50:50.567-05:00Random Thoughts<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Just a few things on my mind. :)</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The East Coast earthquake got top billing in the news yesterday. Apparently, no one was hurt and there wasn't any major damage, thank God. I read a couple of humorous facebook status updates about it. One cited a previously unknown fault line running beneath the White House named "Bush's Fault". Another opined that the quake was caused by the founding fathers rolling over in their graves. A third confirmed that it was, indeed, an earthquake and not the $14 trillion check bouncing all over D.C. Well, <i>I </i>thought they were funny. :)</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Hurricane Irene is churning up the Atlantic. The storm is projected to hit somewhere along the East Coast, anywhere from coastal South Carolina to New Jersey. It's my hope and prayer that Irene is steered off into the ocean, away from land. It is also my prayer that we on the Gulf Coast are spared any storms this season. Our family has been uprooted twice in the last 6 years by major hurricanes (Rita in 2005 and Ike in 2008). Not fun.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I am so ready for Fall that I can hardly stand it. Actually, here in south Louisiana, we really only have 2 seasons: Summer, which runs from April to October, and Not Summer, which runs from November to March. :) It gets cold in the months you'd expect cold, though. I've never been a Summer gal. The heat and humidity get to be too much for me to handle with any grace. If I was rich, I'd have a summer home in Alaska. But I'm not rich, so I stay here and gripe about the heat, and occasionally take a drive to get some decent air conditioning. :) </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It's late, and I'm finally sleepy (expect a post in the near future on insomnia and how I'd like not to have it), so I'll close here.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Have a blessed day! :)</span></span><br />
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Mrs. Boneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11292877147514307655noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5797755101733537515.post-73062659188400033132011-08-22T10:31:00.000-05:002011-08-22T10:31:40.967-05:00Another Blog???<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Since my <a href="http://mrsbones75.blogspot.com/">original blog</a></span></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">is mostly devoted to reviewing <a href="http://bibchr.blogspot.com/">Dan Phillips'</a> great book, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/World-Tilting-Gospel-Embracing-Biblical-Worldview/dp/0825439086/ref=cm_cr_pr_product_top">"The World-Tilting Gospel: Embracing a Biblical Worldview & Hanging on Tight"</a>, as well as posting about faith-related subjects and opinions, I felt that having a place to write about different things (everyday, not-necessarily-faith-related things) would be better. It makes things less cluttered, too.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This blog will be more casual (kind of like jeans on Fridays). As always, these are my opinions and views. You may or may not agree, and that's fine either way. All comments will be moderated, but unless a comment is abusive, vulgar, spammy or trolly, I'll generally approve them. :)</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Have a blessed day! </span></span>Mrs. Boneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11292877147514307655noreply@blogger.com0