Have you ever noticed, that no matter how hard you try not to think about something, it always hits you dead on in your dreams?

I woke up this morning, with Emma curled around my hand, eagerly awaiting her morning scratch behind the ears. Lying there, staring at the ceiling, I wished to close my eyes and go back to sleep, back to the dream that seemed so real.

I've waited 28 years to fall in love, and when I did, the man who could have owned my heart, decided it wasn't for him to keep.

It reminds me of something I read once about soulmates. How even though you are supposed to be together, it doesn't always work out that way. Sometimes you lose each other by a simple quirk of fate, by something you should have done but didn't do.

I've probably missed my moment over a thousand times. Maybe too unaware and caught up in something else, to realize that when opportunity knocked, I was nowhere around to answer it.

To me, love is like a traffic light. Sometimes you're stuck on red, sometimes you're ready to go, and other times you should just proceed with caution.

Sometimes I am convinced, that I was napping at the wheel when my light turned green, missing my chance to go, as the signal changed back to red.

And then he found me, though neither of us had been looking, and things seemed to fall right into place.

In those months, I thought of him as mine, and he was.

He seemed to understand me without even trying, as if he had always known me. We thought so many of the same things, it was like being able to predict what the other was going to say, long before they even began to speak the words.

And there were nights when we didn't need to talk, when the simple sound of silence was all we needed between us. How many times, did we fall asleep like that, cradling a phone beside our ear, listening to each other breathing because it was so much more than either of us realized.

It was an unexplainable connection. A feeling that something was just right.

But it wasn't enough.

I lost him. Lost the lump of clay that had once been designated as my own. Lost it so bad, that no matter how hard I tried or how hard I looked, there was no way for me to get it back.

And so I had to let go.

But letting go for me has never been easy. I tend to hang on with both hands until there's only the tiniest bit of fabric left to cling to. I wean myself slowly, trying as I do, to convince myself that it is for the best, this letting go.

You can't hang on forever I tell myself. You deserve more, you deserve someone who will love you for everything that you are, not someone who will only take you on conditions.

And I know I'm right, at the same time I wish I were wrong.

You're heart doesn't choose who to love, it simply knows it loves someone and without that person in your life, a little corner of your heart will forever be an empty place.

Well, it's official. My mood had taken a swan dive right into the proverbial toilet of life.

I really shouldn't be surprised, since it's been a long time since October and I have really gotten along.

Perhaps I'm biased.

Or maybe I'm just suffering from a dose of seasonal affective disorder, combined with the thought that cabin fever is just a mere month away. Maybe too, the mere mention of my upcoming Nymo bills and the prospect of having to break out the ice scraper has got me feeling the blues. Either way, I am the bah humbug of Octoberfest.

But then again, it's the crisp autumn leaves that have a way of reminding me of old ghosts, that would be better left forgotten. Maybe that, combined with my recent lack of sleep is what is keeping me on the edge of this giant chasm I've come to know as home.

I am a giant ball of stress in need of unraveling.

If there was one person out there in this world who would choose not to rain on my parade, would you please come and introduce yourself to me.

Sometimes I get so tired of my family. Everyone always has something to say, some small way to critique everything I do. I'm desperate for a vacation from it all.

It seriously stresses me out.

I just spent the last 15 minutes trying to pull myself back together from an emotional melt down after my father called to share with me his current predictions of gloom and doom. Evidently, he's been talking to Amy, the high priestess herself of Stacey can't have anything better than me so I better convince our Father to give her the you can't be serious about that speech.

I got distraught and ended up choking on my tears, trying to mumble my way through a conversation since words at that point were evading me. Silence on my part which allowed my Father to ramble on with his well rehearsed you really need to think about what you're getting yourself into chat, as if I was the first person ever on the entire face of the planet to consider taking out a car loan!

I stood there standing in my kitchen shell-shocked, wishing that there was some way to hang up the phone without coming off as rude and disrespectful, but realizing there was nothing I could do but just try to get through the phone call.

It's these kind of calls I can do without, making me feel like a wayward child in need of a little guidance, when all I need is a little support.

I need to move away. Somewhere far away from my family, where they aren't a measly mile down the road, where they aren't a 10 minute drive away. Somewhere where I could make a decision based on what I want and not what everyone else wants for me.

Somewhere where I would be respected for the woman that I am, the provider and caretaker of my own little family, with goals, dreams and aspirations of my own, far removed from my family tree.

Getting up at the crack of dawn ... 5 hours of sleep. Driving into work barely conscious ... Small modern day miracle. Look on my bosses face when he sees that I'm there, absolutely priceless.

Especially when one considers he was betting ten dollars I'd be a no show. Unfortunately, the man decided to pay up with monopoly money, so despite the work getting done, I've still got nothing to show for it.

Poor me. 3 - 1/2 hours of a perfectly good Saturday wasted.

Although I think some of the plant guys were impressed, as one so aptly put it, "Oh my God! A salesperson here on a Saturday?"

I'm surprised there wasn't a mutiny ...

Doh! I almost forgot to tell you all about a funny I made last night. Brenda and I hit the mall on a get out of the house and away from the kids Friday after work excursion, only to decide as we went about, that amongst all the grunge, over pierced body parted youngsters, we really felt quite old.

Which may explain how it was that we found ourselves shopping with coupons in the Yankee Candle Shop, being nauseated by one too many scents combined in an abnormally small enclosed space and me complaining that I was about to suffer a severe headache when we spotted your average, ordinary white candle.

"Oh look at this." Brenda said, picking up the candle and holding it up to my nose. "It's called Wedding Day."

I laughed, mouth quirking up into a smile.

"Yup." I said. "It smells just like pain and suffering."

Round of applause for the jaded girl ...

For those of you doubting my sincerity about heading into work this morning, let this post be proof that after having successfully applied eye liner at an incredibly absurd hour of the morning, I am indeed getting ready to step out my door and start this day.

Let it not be said that Stacey Lynn 3-syllable's does not honor her word, when her dignity is at stake!

And I'm out ...

Ow ... Head in PAIN! Need sleep badly, must crawl upstairs, climb in bed, find pillow and close eyes before alarm shrills.

Alarm? On a SATURDAY? Why surely you jest ...

Stupid, stupid, stupid!!!!

Made grave error in judgment when telling boss (as he was laughing hysterically) that I was indeed coming in (to work for free) on a Saturday, to catch up on some credits needing to be written. Boss almost keeled over in stitches, using the phrase "Yeah, I'd like to see that happen.", which has forced my hand, making tomorrow a no choice situation for going into work ...

If I could stomp on my own toes I would. I am an IDIOT! Tomorrow is SATURDAY for goodness sake and I'm salary!

So I'm going in for two hours. No more and no less. I'll make my appearance, prove boss wrong and get the hell out, before anyone really knows the difference.

And then I am going to repeatedly kick myself in the ass for being such a moron!

Just a little template addition this morning to recognize one of the blogs that has become a favorite regular read.

Still can't manage to make my "Email me" thing appear, but it's there. So I'll lie and tell you that it's the secret hidden email feature (situated next to the blank dot) Of NWTLO. Oooh aren't I clever. (Please don't answer that. Strictly rhetorical!)

Happy Friday y'all ... I'm off to work!

AOL really blows sometimes.

Two paragraphs deep into a post and bam, complete and utter shut down thanks to AOL's frequent habit of giving me the good old heave ho and off you go.

It really is beyond me, why I haven't changed my internet provider by now. You'd think 5 years of constant aggravation would have motivated me to make a change, but no, here I am, still hanging on.

But I've got news for you AOL, this tiny little thread keeping me connected is wearing so thin, it's virtually transparent. In fact, I'd even go so far as to say, that much more abuse from you just might push me straight over the proverbial edge.

Beware AOL! You're about to lose a valuable customer and I've got seven screen names to prove it!

My friend Donna passed away early this morning after a long battle with cancer, and though it seems unfair for the world to lose such a vivacious person, I cling to the belief that she has gone to a better place.

Donna was the kind of person you could never forget. Whether it was the sound of her laugh, or the way she strutted into a room, everyone would agree, that Donna was the kind of person that made you take notice.

She was never scared to speak her mind, or offer a friendly ear to lend a little motherly advice. It was the little things she did, always going out of her way to do something good for someone else, that set her apart from other people.

With a heart as big as the ocean, Donna took care of both her friends and her family. She took challenges with stride, and met them head on. No mountain was too high for her to climb. If you had asked her, there was nothing that could not be done, if one tried hard enough.

And she did try. Diagnosed more than two years ago, Donna did everything in her power to fight the cancer eating away at her. She fought it aggressively, and never lost faith that she would overcome the disease.

She had the best reasons to fight. A wonderful husband, two beautiful daughters and a bevy of precious grandbabies.

No words I could say right now, would ever be enough to express my heartfelt sympathy, that goes out to all of Donna's loved ones, left behind. Donna will live on in both our hearts and our memories, and it is that, that we must cherish, as we move on into a world without her.

Goodbye my friend ...


Oh, we never know where life will take us
We know it's just a ride on the wheel
And we never know when death will shake us
And we wonder how it will feel, so

Good-bye, my friend
I know I'll never see you again
But the time together through all the years
Will take away the tears
It's ok now
Good-bye, my friend

I've seen alot of things that made me crazy
And I guess I held on to you
I could have run away and left, well maybe,
But it wasn't time and we both knew, so

Good-bye, my friend
I know I'll never see you again
But the love you gave me through all the years
Will take away my tears
I'm ok now
Good-bye, my friend

Life's so fragile and love's so pure
We can't hold on but we try
We watch how quickly it disappears
And we'll never know why
But I'm ok now
Good-bye, my friend
You can go now
Good-bye, my friend

I hate being forced onto the phone, like KC did to me tonight.

"Here Mom!" she yelled, pushing the phone against my ear. "Talk to Mikeala's mom."

I stood there with a puzzled look on my face, wondering when my interaction with this conversation became a requirement. I took the phone.

"Hello." I said tentatively, waiting for a reply.

"This is Cheryl ... Mikeala's mom. Mikeala was telling me that your daughter and her, both ride the same bus. Do you live on Blank-ity blank Road?"

"As a matter of fact, yes." I replied. "We live in between this and that road."

"Oh, well we live at the other end toward the big farm, in the new blue house. Do you know where that is?"

I paused for a moment.

"You don't happen to sell Christmas trees do you?" I asked.

"That would be us." She answered.

"Hmmm ... I know exactly where you are then, I bought my Christmas tree from you all last year."

"Well, Mikeala is all excited. All she has been talking about is getting together with KC. Evidently the two girls have really hit it off. So we were hoping that KC might be able to ride the bus home Thursday night, and visit for a few hours after school."

KC was practically drooling on my shoes. I cupped the phone with my hand to give her the quiet it down Mom look.

"That wouldn't be a problem." I said into the phone, watching as KC broke out into full happy dance mode in the middle of the dining room.

"Calm down." I mouthed to her, trying to listen to what the other Mom had to say.

"Well, ok." I said again into the phone, coming to an agreement of what time KC would need to be home. "It was very nice talking to you. Have a good night."

I hung the receiver up, watching helplessly as my dinner preparations went boiling over onto the stove. So much for that, I thought to myself, turning to grab a paper towel to wipe up the mess and start again.

** I almost forgot it was Tuesday! A little bad news on the WL front ... Up 1/2 lb! Damn those mozzarella sticks! I just couldn't say no! **

Oh, do I need a new car.

Things are going wrong. Really wrong. Wrong as in falling off the car wrong.

My father would tell you, I'm hard on cars. In fact, he takes extreme delight in telling people just how hard I am. It's like his favorite running joke, whenever I make the mistake of telling him about a car complaint.

The man doesn't forget a thing. He just blames me for being the sort of girl who has a serious lack of common sense when it comes to cars, and the maintenance thereof. But nobody's perfect!

So I don't always get the oil changed every 3000 miles, and my wiper blades have to be close to falling off before they'll be replaced. And who can blame me,that I have no idea of how to test the tires to see if they have enough air, when I'm more concerned that the muffler is getting ready to fall off and the gas tanks sprung a leak! Which is not even to mention that the little orange engine light has been on for over a month, and contrary to popular belief, no it does not mean that yes, you do have an engine in your car!

So I want a new car. One that I can trust is not going to leave me stranded on some highway in the middle of nowhere, with a white flag hanging from the driver side window. I want a car that will make it to North Carolina and back, so I can take a trip down to see my Mom, with the confidence that I will actually get there. I want a car I can be proud of, and one that doesn't remind people of a little white jelly bean on wheels.

And I need a new car. One I can baby and take care of the right way the first time around. One that I won't be ashamed to claim in a parking lot full of people. One that has perks! Electric windows, automatic locks, a kicking sound system, cruise control and an onboard compass. And my dream of all dreams, a remote control car starter for cold winter weather defrosting, so I can throw my snow brush out the window.

Of course, if I get a new car, I can kiss my vacation plans goodbye, right along with any other plans I might have had for the remainder of this year.

It's a hard choice ... Car payment? Or no car payment?

Maybe I should play the lotto.

Another Monday, (sigh) and I'm not ready to give myself back up to work. I wish it were Friday, and I could do the whole weekend over again.

Last night, I spent a few hours tooling about search engines, trying to find an Adirondack cabin retreat, for just KC and I to go to, for my mid-winter vacation. I didn't have much luck.

Oh, I found cabins alright, but all the ones I fell absolutely in love with, were so outrageously priced that I couldn't even afford to commune with nature.

I'm recreating again. It's what I do when I want to remember something, when I want to feel as if I can recapture a moment in time.

When I was a little girl, my Mom and Daddy Chick, took Amy and I on vacation to Blue Mountain Lake. We stayed in a rustic little cottage, nestled on the side of the mountain, and went fishing during the days, and played board games around the fire at night.

It was wonderful.

I can even recall the old neighbor man that lived next door, a full time resident. He had taught the deers to come feed right from his hand, standing there patiently as they slowly ate the apples that he gave them.

I remember thinking, even back then, that this was the life I wanted to lead. I guess it wasn't so abnormal for a girl who watched Little House on the Prarie faithfully, and believed that Laura Ingalls had it all.

I want to give KC that kind of memory. The memory of hand sewn comforters, soft pine bunk beds, wood next to the fire, and the gentle glow of light from a candle illuminating the darkness, savoring the quiet moments of being family.

Excuse the pity party, it's just me, not feeling well and having a bad day ...

I'm sitting here with hair dye on my head, trying not to breathe as I'm washing this gray away. Luckily for me, I only have another 20 or so minutes to go.

I remember when I used to do this back in high school just for fun, except now there's purpose behind the coloring. Back then, we only did it to shock our mothers, and boy were they shocked, when Brenda accidentally turned her blonde hair green. I, on the other hand, opted for red and got addicted, which is why I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if all my hair falls out of my head someday.

Thanks to genetics, my chocolate brown hair is changing to brittle strands of spun silver. Maybe if I were a little older, like say in my 80's, I'd appreciate the sparkling radiance of tinsel in my hair. But right now, it's all about the fine art of disquise, and the disquise is red.

So I am off for the day, first stop to feed and water my father's dog, while they are away and second stop Brenda's, to hear all about the wedding that I wasn't invited to.

But I'm not bitter, exact for this very small part of me that wonders why, even though we've lost touch in the past few years, my ex roommate from college, couldn't have dropped a note or an invitation in the mail.

Yes. I know it was her special day, being her wedding and all, but I hate this feeling that I was just forgotten. I'm sure I'll get over it, I'm even quite sure I wish her well, still I wonder why so many friends have forgotten about little old me.

Back in the good old days, I was always the kind of girl that could make people smile. Now, I'm like a speck of dust, easily blown away ...

People are gluttons for punishment and I'm like a waitress, ready to dish it out on a bleak Saturday morning.

So I'm on my NWTLO screen name, browsing around the web, when an Instant Message pops up in front on me, from out of nowhere.

Who it is, I have no idea, other than he's yet another randy male looking for love on this high tech information highway. My blood began to tingle.

"Hello." said the moth to the flame.

So I'm feeling that a little sport this morning, might be just the thing to get my creative juices a flowing. Trust me when I tell you, that there's nothing better than messing around with the mind of someone you don't even know.

When trouble comes looking for me, my sarcasm is quick to come to the rescue.

Since the first guy bailed on me, after I told him I was a 99 year old woman with 13 cats, who once almost ran for President, but decided to back out of the election since I couldn't say that I had never inhaled, I couldn't help but tone it down just a bit for the next sucker, whoops, I mean guy that IM'ed me.

Rather than try to give you the play by play of how the conversation went, a little cutting and pasting will work wonders for getting the story told.

** Some names may have been changed to protect the innocent. **

ONCE ON A SATURDAY MORNING (a conversation)

Random IM'er: hello how ru today
Stay247: I am just wonderful. How about yourself?

Random IM'er: good here ty u wanna chat
Stay247: I might have a few minutes

Random IM'er: ok 30/m syr here and u
Stay247: 28/Information Withheld

Random IM'er: any pics
Stay247: Just one of my cat.

big typing delay ... I think he began to realize he should be scared.

Random IM'er: ok
Stay247: I should warn you, that the last guy I had a conversation with, thought I was a 99 year old grandmother who once opted for public office ...

Random IM'er: why did he think that
Stay247: Probably cause I told him that.

Random IM'er: lol nice
Stay247: you'd think he would have been a bit smarter to figure out I was lying through my teeth ... But nope.

Could I have just given this guy a bigger clue about what he was in for??

Random IM'er: lol ok. So what are you doin
Stay247: I'm at my sisters place taking care of her dog

Random IM'er: ok
Stay247: I can hardly stand all the excitement

RandomIM'er: so do u live in (deleted town name) urself
Stay247: Near there but not in the city

Random IM'er: ok (This guy says OK a lot!)
i have a pic in my profile if u care to see
Stay247: Depends ... Are you fully dressed? Cause once this guy sent me a pic and didn't warn me, and I almost fell right out of my chair in surprise! It was not a good surprise! (True story!)

Random IM'er: lol yes im dressed
Stay247: Whew ... Thank goodness. That sort of thing is a bit unhealthy.

2 minute delay of action pause ...

Stay247: Have you lost consciousness?
Random IM'er: i thought my pic scared u away

Stay247: Not unless it was invisible ... I didn't see a thing.
Random IM'er: did u click on the link at the bottom of my profile

Stay247: Oh ... sorry. I'm still a little bit computer illiterate this early on a Saturday morning.
Random IM'er: lol its ok

Stay247: hold on one second while I check you out
Random IM'er: ok

Stay247: How do you like that ... you can get ogled on a computer
Random IM'er: dont get to turned on now ok

Stay247: Of course, ogling is much more fun in person ... Not to worry, I'll keep the drooling to a minimum
Random IM'er: ok lol (OK ... He says OK just way too damn much!)

Stay247: a little blurry but clothed and not bad
Random IM'er: so tell me what u look like

Stay247: Well, let's see ... A whopping 5 foot 0 inches high, thanks to Mom, brown hair and brown eyes, thanks to Dad, blank (censored information) pounds, Thanks to Jenny Craig and weight watchers ... and mostly Italian.

Random IM'er: eeeeew Italian
Stay247: What do you mean by Eeeew?

Random IM'er: im kidding
Stay247: I was about to get my kick boxing gloves on
and go all samurai on you.

Random IM'er: oh cool i would like a good beating lol
Stay247: you and every other man on the face of the planet. You get zero for originality.

Random IM'er: lol so what r u doing today
Stay247: So far, wreaking havoc on western civilization and I'll probably move on to breakfast at some point.

Random IM'er: oic sounds fun
Stay247: Not really

Random IM'er: so ur 28 u said right
Stay247: I'll have to feed the dog too and he has this uncontrollable drooling thing.

Stay247: 28 almost 29
Random IM'er: any kids

Stay247: One, but I'm not sure he's mine
Random IM'er: lol

Random IM'er: so what r you gonna do tonight when we meet lol
Stay247: Hit you over the head and steal all your money.

Random IM'er: dont have any, im on welfare
Stay247: You too?

Random IM'er: yeah
Stay247: Isn't it nice they've hooked up all the shelters with computers?

(Yeah ... I know this is really politically incorrect. It's just the harmful side effects of sarcasm ... Take it with a couple grains of salt.)

Random IM'er: i dont have any legs either
Stay247: I've got 3, I could let you have one ... Course it might be too girlish for you, with the painted toe nails and all.

Random IM'er: i use to paint mine to lol
Stay247: I love a man whose not afraid to admit that!

Random IM'er: i let my daughters do that to me one time and i forgot about it and i had a date that night. it was funnier than hell, lol, but embarrassing lol
Stay247: Actually I think that would have been a very good ice breaker, although if you showed up in a dress, I probably would have been concerned ...

Random IM'er: well it was kinda, but i wasnt gonna go there lol
im not afraid to say i let my kids dress me up once in awhile, they like to do it

(At this point I was starting to get a little concerned.)

Random IM'er: would u like to dress me up or undress me ?
Stay247: Never on the first IM, I'm not that sort of girl!!!!

Random IM'er: lol. well u can wait till we meet tonight ok
Stay247: How do you know I don't already have a date

Random IM'er: because u dont
Stay247: are you psychic or something??

Random IM'er: yes i am
Stay247: And here I thought mediums were really smalls in disquise.

Random IM'er: so where r we going tonight
Stay247: Aruba, Jamaica (Oooh I want to take you ... Isn't it funny that a Beach Boys song started singing in my hear.) maybe somewhere off the Florida keys

Random IM'er: ok but u will have to push me around in my chair ok
Stay247: Not a problem, although I should tell you I have two left feet

Random IM'er: better than no feet
Stay247: I suppose you may have a point there, but I can't dance (and I can't sing ... I started humming out loud, trying to remember whether that had been Genesis or just Phil Collins, who sang that tune.)

Random IM'er: u think i can
Stay247: Well, you can roll around ...

Random IM'er: i can hop around on my little guy

(OK, that was a mental picture that no one, including me, wanted to see. I started wondering how I could end the conversation.)

Stay247: You know a dwarf? You really shouldn't step on him, it's not very nice!

(Right now, I'd like to take a time out to apologize to all the little people for my political incorrectness. It was wrong of me, but considering the other direction in which this guy was trying to get the conversation to go, I felt I had no choice!)

Random IM'er: i have a dwarf
Stay247: Is he one of seven? (OK, I was chuckling here, I have to admit it.)

Random IM'er: no he is by himself but he hangs with these two nuts that r always getting him into trouble

(Have I said Eeeww yet ... Cause if I didn't, now would be a good time. Eeeewww ... Way too much information there buddy!)

Stay247: I think you should get rid of him. That kind of person will always bring you down!

Random IM'er: well i already gave him a snip (I was so not going to ask what he meant by this.)
Stay247: That's it? He needs a full bobbit !!!

Random IM'er: well trust me it felt like a bobbittt lol

(This seemed like a good time to bring the dialog to a close.)

Stay247: Well, speaking of bobbits. I have got to go to take this little emaciated dog out for a poop run, before he takes advantage of the carpet .

(Don't you just love imaginary dogs? I know I do.)

Random IM'er: aww r u coming back to play
Stay247: I guess that depends on the dog ... (and I think he's in the mood for a very long bowel movement.) GTG, bye!
*finis

I should be ashamed, I should be very ashamed ... But, I can't really blame myself. It was him, after all, who IM'ed me ... I was just sitting at my computer innocently beginning to blog.

I'm sitting here, tears running down my face, thanking myself for just finishing the book I bought today.

It was exactly what I needed to wake me up, to make me think.

Read it! I promise you won't be disappointed.

A Window Across the River

Tree down in the backyard ... Hmmm, sounds like something you would say in passing.

Hi there. How are ya? There's a tree down in the backyard. Good to see you. We'll do lunch ...

Or then again, maybe not.

But there is ... a tree down in the backyard. A big old pine tree toppled over, its top half lying on the ground and down the road, there's another tree blocking the road, pulling down the power wires.

I have power for now. I didn't earlier. In fact, that's the very reason I am able to be blogging right now. KC's school got cancelled this morning, and although she could have spent the afternoon at the sitters, I decided to come home. Heck, I'll be honest, it was Friday and I didn't feel like working anyway.

So I picked her up and we went to lunch, and spent the time talking about what happened at school today when the lights went out. KC told me she bravely stood up and told the class not to worry, because it was only your standard blackout.

I guess I should be proud that my child is up on her current events. Ah, my child the drama queen. (Like Grandmother, like mother, like daughter ...)

So anyhoo, after lunch we opted for shopping and went to my most favorite store in the whole world, Barnes and Noble. Fifty dollars later, it was time to leave for home. I got a new Dar Williams CD (Out There LIVE), a new book which I might add after reading 3 pages looks like it is going to be absolutely wonderful entitled, A Window Across the River by Brian Morton, and for KC, a recorder with songbook.

Now that she's been upstairs for the last half hour honking on it, I have to ask myself what the hell was I thinking! Was it a moment of insanity, or is insanity a much slower process? Either way, the one thing I am getting now, is a headache. My daughter did not inherit my musically inclinced genes.

Oh well, I'll have to finish this later ... There's another thunderstorm rolling in, time to duck and cover.

And the winds are howling outside my door ...

It's a little eerie. When the wind hits my front door just right, it makes this high pitched wooing sound like a wailing ghost. Not exactly the best thing to hear in the middle of the night, when you are curled up in your bed all alone.

You'd think I'd be a little used to it by now, but it still makes my teeth chatter.

More strange dreams last night, Unfortunately, there's not time for details so a quick synopsis this morning will have to do. Hmmm ... Maybe I'll just type the keywords.

A lost love, Sean Connery, at a party, bicycles (not me riding this time and not magical), phone calls, confessions and finally happily ever after.

Absolutely no doubt when I woke up this morning, that it was all a dream. (sigh)

Oh hello-well ... (snicker) I must be off for a day of fun filled excitement abounding with happiness and good thoughts.

Well, I made my debut as an amateur photographer today, taking pictures of my friend and her bandmates.

It was definitely an interesting group of people. Though first impressions can sometimes be deceiving, their personalities seemed easy to discern.

Both her husband and his brother, were more of your average mild mannered professionals. The kind who liked to entertain the notion of living out their rock god fantasies, while making a little extra money on the side.

The drummer was another story. The type of guy who bathed himself in masculinity, in order to attract girls with his jet black hair and his smarmy come hither attitude. From the way he seemed intent on making sure I was noticing him, it was obvious that he was more interested in making conquests, than making music.

But it was the last guy that intrigued me. He had the sort of face, that seemed as if it had a story to tell. Shy and reserved, I watched him purposely keep himself to the fringes of the group. The kind of behavior you see, when someone doesn't really think they belong there. I could tell that I made him nervous, an unknown factor in his usual sphere of being, that he didn't quite know how to act around. I automatically wanted to make him feel comfortable, ensuring him with a smile, that I wasn't a threat.

I would have loved to have taken pictures of just him alone, tracing with my camera every line on his face and the slope of his nose that seemed out of proportion. His was a face in which a camera could fall in love. Not handsome, and not of the manor born, but a hard, weathered face, that looked like it had spent too many days in the sun and too many nights in stormy weather.

He was a man in black, standing tall with cowboy hat partially shading his eyes from view. The kind of man who preferred to see himself out of focus and out of the picture whenever possible. The kind of man who wasn't used to someone attempting a peek at his soul.

But when he smiled, you could tell that it reached up all the way into his eyes. The same kind of smile you'd get from a toothy seven year old. It was genuine and honest.

It was clear to me, that the picture needed to revolve around this man. He was, what the others were not. Maybe it was his deep reserve that accentuated the stoic-ness of his posture, manipulating the light around his form to shine on him like a beacon. I focused my camera on his face, and let the others provide the backdrop to the scene, imagining in my mind what the picture would look like in black and white.

"He needs to be in the back." said one of the groupies as she hovered behind me scoffing, "He's not much to look at."

I wanted to turn around and call her out and tell her all of the reasons of why she couldn't have been more wrong. I wanted to explain to her the difference of looking and really seeing someone. But I knew she wouldn't get it. Still I felt the need to defend him.

"Actually, out of all of them here," I said, "he's the one who'll look the best. His face has character. Putting him in the back would be the biggest mistake."

She seemed startled by my input, pausing long enough to give me the evil eye and the you sure don't know what you're talking about kind of look. But it made me feel good to defend the honor of a man I didn't even know.

There was just something about him, the way he reminded me of a kindred spirit. Someone who was lost and still struggled to be found. Someone who thought they weren't worth as much as the people surrounding them. Maybe it was just that I recognized a little bit of myself in this man, and wanted to honor him in the only way I could. Making him feel, as if he really belonged.

I kept finding myself wishing there was some way, I could have singled him out for a shot alone, with the barren landscape jutting sharply behind him. But they wouldn't have understood, and he would have been too embarrassed to let me.

And the dreams were even weirder last night ...

I met my alter ego, a slightly younger version of my present self, named Azee, who could travel through time by riding a magic bicycle and had a penchant for going through giant mud holes.

She also played a mean game of table tennis, at an exclusive country club which let just about anyone in, including visitors from the future and her friends.

She even met a boy last night. Well, a man actually, and he was much older than she was. But it was love, despite the fact that he held some sort of political position and was trying to kill her.

I'm quite sure the dream could have kept going, but she settled down in a very nice house in Virginia, dumped the psycho boyfriend and for all intents and purposes lived happily ever after, just as my alarm clock gave the ring to wake me up.

As for me, I am going to stop watching television at least an hour before I go to bed. It's interrupting my beauty sleep!

Here's to a much better day at work today ... It's payday, so it can't be all that bad.

If you could hear me now, you'd be hearing me screaming. I am so damn frustrated today, it's a wonder that I haven't pulled my hair out yet.

Men, in general, can be irritating ... Working with them, hazardous to your health!

This is the conclusion that I've come to, after my day was seriously ruined, by those with attitudes bigger than their heads.

What absolutely kills me, is that I was on top of the world this morning, even despite the weird light bulb dream. I was ready to have a fantastic, middle of the week, no one can bring me down hump day. That was until the guys out in shipping and other surrounding offices, decided to rain on my parade.

I am so sick of hearing the same old standby whine, that sales is the root of all evils around my workplace.

Everybody blames sales. Why this is, I have no idea. I guess the ignorant morons I work with just don't get it. Without sales, they wouldn't even have jobs. The way they act, you'd almost think we were the spawn of the guy with the pitchfork and pointy ears.

Walking out into the plant when you are a member of the sales team, is the same as wearing antlers on your head in the middle of hunting season. You're just asking for trouble.

But it seems to me, that anyone who can get overtime in the manufacturing industry, ought to be thanking their lucky stars. Manufacturing jobs all across our area, are shutting down, leaving their employees to stand in line at the local unemployment office. With so many people looking for work, it's hard to believe that there are so many chumps at mine, complaining about over time.

OVERTIME, as in they get paid time and a half, whenever they've been there longer than 8 hours. Give me a second and I just might not break out the Kleenex here. Ever since I went salary, overtime for me is a thing of the past, and it's not that I don't work it, cause I do, it's just that I don't get paid for it anymore. In fact, as far as perks go for being salary, I've yet to see any of them.

So this is how it goes ...

Shipping can screw up, forget to load an item on a truck, and manufacturing can screw up and send a customer ivy-green when he ordered royal blue, but sales isn't supposed to complain. We're just supposed to take the verbal tongue bath from our customer, you know, the guy at the other end of the phone that nobody else but sales has to speak with, and try our best to smooth it out and make nice. It seems to me, when it comes to accountability, nobody but sales is bending over to take the spanking.

And trust me, when I make a boo boo, I claim it and take my lumps when I have to. At least I do when I'm at work, that is. But the notion that I am going to sit around there, and let everyone use me as their personal doormat is absolutely ridiculous!

Not in this lifetime, baby! I don't do that martyr thing for anyone.

But people must have gotten me confused with someone else who is willing to deal with mass amounts of bullshit, cause they keep trying to pile it up outside my door.

Mr. Dailey himself, tried throwing a little attitude at me today, only to find out the hard way, that I wasn't having it. No matter how many times I've tried to explain it to people, they just don't get it. I've said it before and I'll say it again, the minute you think you can fly your attitude at me, you better be damn well prepared when I start flinging it back.

But I'm supposed to grow a thick skin.

That's the advice my boss, in his infinite wisdom, has given me. Forgive me, if I think it's time he starts rethinking his position.

Since when did common courtesy become an option? I think that a little peace, love and understanding would get us a lot further than this in-house bickering, where we all stand like a room full of children throwing tantrums, because we all want to play with the same toy.

And just because I'm female, don't treat me like your good little Christian wife at home and think you can get away with saying whatever you want to me. Just because you happen to have balls, and the dick to go with it, doesn't mean that I am going to let anyone talk to down to me, in any fashion they so choose. Talk about the wrong answer!

I just want to growl and throw today away, so I can start again, with a smile on my face and a song in my heart and end the night on a happy note. There's nothing that makes me feel worse, than somebody who lives to bring me down!

I smashed light bulbs in my dreams last night. Strange, but true.

Normally, if my subconscious has something to say, she skips the euphemisms and goes straight to the gusto. Of course now that I've finally gotten a handle on how to read her, she opted for a possibly prophetic overtone this time around, and is leaving it up to me to figure out the cryptic meaning behind the message.

Now if I can only figure out why the light bulbs were square ...

I'm not holding my breath, but hopefully in the next few weeks, NWTLO, will be getting a much needed face lift.

Utilizing the talents of my sister Audrey, the resident artist of our clan, and her friends at the Maryland Institute of Art, majoring in graphic design, my plans should be moving full steam ahead, transferring NWTLO into a more personal sphere of existence from its current cookie cutter image.

More later. As witnessed by the email I just received from Brenda, she needs to talk to me and she needs to talk to me now.

How the f**k am I supposed to call you the f**k back if your f**king phone is going to be f**king busy all f**king night.....F**K!

(Oh my ... Such language!)

Night y'all!

By the way ... Tuesday's have now been nominated as the official step on a scale day. Today's results ... Down 5 lbs. Who's the girl?

Another day, another dollar.

If I were working early shift this week, I'd be pretty much screwed this morning, since I am running a little bit behind. But since I'm not, working the early shift that is, I figured I'd make some time to blog.

I'm supposed to help a friend out after work today, taking some black and white photos of her band to be printed in a local crier, but it doesn't look good.

According to the local weather report, it's clear skies this morning and nothing but rain and thunderstorms for the remainder of the afternoon. Not exactly advantageous picture taking weather, though it may just work out in my favor ...

Dad, Becky and Jen are going to see Ronnie Milsap in concert this afternoon, meaning that Dad won't be able to get KC off the bus.

I couldn't really remember who the guy was, until Dad supplied me with a little background information. At least now I know who to credit, whenever someone makes me wait, forcing me to sing Any Day Now at the top of my lungs. But anyhoo, since he's not going to be home, it will be up to me to fly to the sitters immediately following work to pick my little princess up.

Well, no sense worrying about it now. None of it is going to happen today, if I don't finish getting ready for work and get both KC and I out the door in the next 30 minutes.

Ugh ... It's MONDAY!

I am making muffins! Apple cinnamon to be exact, and low fat, so I don't blow my latest excursion into my "I'm on a diet" world.

Losing 6 pounds in the last three weeks, has been like seeing a small light in the darkness. I have to keep reminding myself, that no one is setting the scale back, in the attempt to just trick me into thinking I am doing well.

Still, it's hard to escape the mental programming that has existed in my mind for the past 28 years. I better than anyone, know how I have used my weight as both a weapon and a shield.

"I open my mouth and I am empty."

I said this to myself one night, as I was alone, lying on my living room floor looking up at the ceiling. Whatever hurt I was still carrying inside, could not be appeased by an appetite that consumed calories in order to eradicate the pain, the disappointment and my fears long unspoken.

Curled up on my stomach, pen in hand, I wrote my thoughts down on paper. A brutally honest poem I entitled "Dissecting the Dinner Table", the place I felt sure, my dependency on food began.

I've been riding that roller coaster ever since, making excuses up for it as I went. Still I was haunted by my own words.

I open my mouth and I am empty.

I could lie to myself but the proof was always there. No amount of food could fill the hollow of my soul. I wasn't a car running on fumes, to be filled at the service station and ready to go.

I was a woman, a little girl, still fighting invisible demons by making myself as undesirable as I could be. If I could look into a mirror, and not recognize myself, I secretly thought that I had won. No one will hurt me ever again. No one will ever get close enough to try.

I made my own prison. I fed it well.

I didn't meet the man of my dreams today.

In fact, I didn't even come close ... Unless you can count almost senselessly being run down by a quick driving man in a camaro, whom I might add, was sporting a hot pair of shades despite a day of dismal weather.

It was a sad day indeed.

A trip to Walmart emptied my pockets of the last little bit of change I had left, leaving me destitute enough to spend most of the day with my sister, just happy to be around someone for company.

Not that I don't love my older sister, but most of the time, we have very little in common, except for the fact that we share the same DNA and our middle names are both Lynn. (Ask my parents why they couldn't think of something different during the two years that separated our births!)

But it was an interesting experience.

I dragged Amy into the craft section, eagerly looking to see if they had straw angel bodies back in stock, but it was to no avail. There were none to be found.

It was a definite blow to my angel money making plan, to provide extra cash for Christmas presents this year. (Last year, after gussying them up with ribbons, flowers and bows ... I was making a whopping 75% profit on each angel by selling them to the friends, of a friend, of a friend.)

Still, I'm not one to leave empty handed, and much to my surprise, Amy didn't either.

We both decided to try our hands at cross stitching, despite the fact that she'd never done one and the last time I did, I was under the age of thirteen. We may have bitten off more than we can chew, because rather than opting for the easier patterns, both of us chose count stitch patterns from hell with a thousand colors each.

If anyone is willing to wager on whether or not we actually get these done in time for Christmas, let me know. I'd like to bet against myself too.

Of course, I'd like to blame my sister for my choice, because I selected my design based on what one she liked the best. Should I actually complete it, it will be part of the Christmas present I give her. (Don't worry people, I didn't ruin the surprise, the only sister who may occasionally read my ramblings, isn't the one who the present is for.)

Anyhoo, I suppose I have stalled long enough and should get back upstairs, where the project is eagerly awaiting my clumsy, not very good with a needle hands.

Night all.

Another Saturday morning, another search for things to do. I suppose I could do work around the house. The laundry is practically begging to be done, and the good Lord knows, that a quick swipe with the vacuum cleaner wouldn't be amiss. However, I have bigger and better plans for today, despite the fact that I still haven't figured out exactly what they are quite yet.

Last night, I went to Brenda's after work, getting caught up in the late, all I want to do is get home traffic, on a Friday night. At one point, I was caught on the downside of a hill for about 15 minutes and spent the whole time stressing that my brakes wouldn't be able to hold out. I kept picturing my car coasting down the incline and into the cars in front of me. Not a pretty picture, when I was sure that it was my breaks that were screeching from the strain of being made to stop.

Brenda seems to think that I need to get out more, and I for one, believe she may be right. Sometimes the me I see, is the same lady I can picture when she is 80 years old, bending over to feed her 9 cats and complaining that she never found Mr. Right. Of course, that is the same lady who believed he should be the one to find her and come knocking on the door, bearing flowers and a ring.

At 28, and approaching 29 with speed, I am beginning to know better. Prince Charming, Mr. Right or Mr This Is Going To Have To Be It, is not waiting for an engraved invitation to come and search me out. He expects me to do a little bit of the searching myself.

I think I may be the only person on earth, who is already mad at her future husband, because he's already taken too damn long to appear. It certainly seems to be a sad way to start off a relationship that has yet to evolve.

So I am out of here, maybe to spend today hanging out in Barnes and Noble, so as to catch me an intelligent man. Or maybe I'll simply go wherever the road takes me, like a dream that one was.

Jack Tripper was my hero. When I was a kid, I always imagined that I'd grow up and live in an apartment, with two zany roommates and an obnoxious landlord underfoot.

I grew up with him.

Jack Tripper was as much a part of my life as waking up every morning and going to school. Each night after dinner, I'd rush through my chores, so as not to miss a single episode.

I guess I was a little bit in love.

John Ritter's passing, unexpected and sudden as it was, tinged today with sorrow. For a man struck down in his prime and the family that wasn't ready to let him go, my prayers are with them. May they find comfort, in knowing that he touched all our lives with laughter, and he will never be forgotten.

You know you're tired when ...

You spend the entire ride home from the grocery store sniffling back tears of frustration, because you're sweet, charming seven year old has just driven you to the brink of insanity.

You put the shampoo and the conditioner away in the fridge.

You call you're sister to tell her that you're too tired to talk.

You know you need to go to bed when ...

You can't keep your eyes open long enough to finish this senten ...

Oooh ... I'm so excited! We have spell checker now! Well, that alone might just make my day today.

And here I was just about to post that I was too tired to post, since I've spent the last hour and a half working on my sister's Jodi's first turn in college English paper.

I tweaked it just a little. Alright, maybe just a little bit more than a lot. But I couldn't help myself. I am a word addict and when I hear a sentence that is said all wrong, I feel like it is my civic duty to change it.

Hopefully, Jodi won't be too put out by all the revisions. My advice, Go on take the money and run ... Who sings that anyway ... The Steve Miller Band? I can't recall and I'm not going to look it up tonight. If anyone knows, feel free to email me if I'm wrong. Or just email me in general, since all I've gotten lately are forwarded spam messages.

Woops, I almost forgot to use the spell checker!

Stay247@aol.com ... Come on and drop a line.

(Spell check complete ... It looks like this post is a go!) Hiya Mom!

KC starts ballet tomorrow.

A fact, which I found out this afternoon at about 2 ish. It seems the intro letter with dates and times, never managed to find its way to my mailbox, despite my frequent jaunts to the curb.

With such short notice, I had to beg my boss to leave a half hour early today, in order to make it into town, before the dance supply store could close. What an experience that was.

Almost a hundred dollars out of my pocket and all we came home with, was a black leotard, a black skirt type thing, nylons that supposedly will never run, and the required tap and ballet shoes.

As I handed over the cash, the first thought that crossed my mind was so much for paying the electric bill this week ... Oh well, it can be my silent protest post black out.

I'm currently listening to Fear Factor in the background, since it's just too disgusting to watch anymore. How hard up do you have to be for money, to do the stunts these people are asked to do?

I'm quite sure that nothing, and I do mean nothing, would ever entice me to eat one slimy slug let alone five or let someone dump a gallon of writhing, wiggly snakes over the top of my head. It's simply not on my to do list, not to mention I have a very weak constitution. I can feel the vomit pooling in my stomach, as I speak.

Speaking of which I did that earlier.

The vomiting thing that is ...(How's that for up close and personal?) It was all quite by accident though, I was walking and talking and then BAM, out of the blue, I swallowed a bug. I shudder to remember. Just the thought of how it tickled my throat on the way down has me feeling queasy all over again!

OK! New subject ...

Let me tell you about the psycho woman I encountered yesterday while driving to the craft store. This may be hard to do considering that there are a lot of adjectives I'd like to use while telling this story.

So there I was, all buckled in, Alanis Morissette crooning in the background, while KC belted out her own made up lyrics from the back-seat, as we approached a 4 way stop. Please note that 4 way stop is highlighted in bold, to indicate that it was indeed a 4 way stop.

Unfortunately, the psycho woman somehow managed to miss the glaring red sign with the big, bold letters that spelled STOP. I, having followed all the proper rules applying to a 4 way stop, was just inching out into the intersection, when I noticed this big beast of a white car, plowing recklessly in my direction.

I slammed the car into reverse.

For those of you, in need of a G rating, please do not read any further ...

"What the f*ck!" I yelled out my window, as the white car squealed to a halt. "That's a f*cking stop sign you idiot!"

To which the stupid wench replied angrily, "I have a child in my car!"

"All the more reason to STOP your damn car when you see a STOP sign you moron!" I screamed back, road rage taking over. It was all I could do, to stay sitting in my car and not get out, to take her to task in person.

Of course, the psycho woman refused to admit that she was in any way wrong, opting to call me a really nasty name instead, as if she was justified.

Steam coming out of my ears, I did the only thing there was left to do.

"Hey Bitch, have a great day." I yelled, a sense of satisfaction welling in my heart, as I watched her lip curl up in a snarl, as she realized I was flipping her the bird.

I'd bet my bottom dollar that my Mother will be shaking her head when she reads this. I can hear her now ...

"Stacey." Deep sigh. "I'm disappointed in you. You should know. reacting like that isn't going to get you anywhere. Road rage is not the answer, besides you shouldn't be talking like that with KC in the car, little pitchers have big ears you know."

(This of course followed by a moment of PARENTAL SILENCE ... so that you may take such sage advice to heart and realize the error of your ways.)

See Mom, even though you're all the way in North Carolina, I can still hear you yelling in my head. If that's not effective parenting, I don't know what is ... That, or I really have to do something about all these voices in my head ...

Good morning, Sunday morning and a Happy French Toast Day to everyone, everywhere!

I just finished making KC breakfast, and figured I'd get an early start on my posting, before using the remainder of the day to do a little winterizing around the house.

Not that I really want to do it, but unfortunately, it needs to be done, especially since waking up with the cold in your bones, is hardly the greatest way to start your morning.

Today, all the windows are getting shut, once and for all, until next spring. Outside, it will be time to tip the flower pots, clean up the back deck and then sadly trim the garden down, so that a thick layer of mulch can be applied.

Inside, there will be the typical Sunday dusting and vacuuming, accompanied by a load or two of laundry and maybe, if the floors are lucky, I just might break out the mop and a little lysol, to keep the house smelling fresh and clean.

Emma needs a bath too. But I'm not too sure if I really want to do that again today. Last time around, she took issue with me and attempted to claw me into pieces. Now that I'm fully healed, I'm a bit loathe to deal with the hellion again.

Of course, I am still of the mindset that a clean cat, is a happy cat. So more than likely, I'll be breaking out the kitty shampoo and doing it anyway, despite the impending scars.

As I mentioned in a prior post, yesterday was my nephew's birthday. My Mother will be happy to know, that I gifted the boy with the full original cast recordings of both Les Miserables and Into the Woods. Presents, my nephew was more than excited to receive. Much to my sisters chagrin, the boy has been bitten by the same Broadway bug, that got me, his grandmother and his grandmother before that.

I suppose she thought, that after she got out on her own, she would be in the clear, never having to hear a Broadway musical ever again in her entire life. In her mind, listening to that sort of thing, is the equivalent to being tortured. Of course, I didn't know that, when I bought Jamie two disks, instead of one. Yeah ... right.

But the fun will really begin, once he's learned the words and is able to sing along. I'll have to make a mental note to schedule myself over for coffee that day.

It's bedtime for bloggers. Or in this case me, to be precise.

Happy Birthday James Patrick ... Welcome to the tweens.
~ with love, Aunt Stacey

I had a horrible day today, despite the fact that I took a two mile walk during my lunch hour, just to get out of the office to clear my head.

Nothing, and I do mean nothing, was going right. The more work there was to do on my desk, the more my phone rang ... Still, it wouldn't have been so bad, had the calls been of the easy garden variety, but every Tom, Dick and Joe Homeowner, seemed to crawl out from the woodwork demanding detailed tech instructions of which, I was only able to honestly answer half.

Still, I was never so happy to call it a day when 4:30 came around. I quickly straightened up my office, poured the remainder of my bottled water into the base of one of my nearby plants and grabbed my keys off their post hanging by the door, quietly switching off my light before heading down the hall.

It was simply time to call it quits and I was more than happy to get to the going. It was obvious to me, if not obvious to everyone else, that my patience was completely nonexistant and that going home for some seriuos R & R, was the only sensible solution for my situation.

So here I am, about to turn in early on a Friday night, in hopes that my Saturday will offer up something much better than today turned out to be and if not ... Well, I guess I don't know what I'll do.

Until tomorrow ... Here's hoping your day was much better than mine.

(End whine.)

KC and I went shopping tonight and managed to come home with a little money still left in our pockets. An unusual experience, considering that we normally get attacked by the impulse buying bug.

But, we did good tonight and just said no, even when a particularly appealing outfit shouted our name, while dancing a jig on the rack.

We stopped, felt the fabric, admired the color and then quickly moved on, before the item attempted to leap into our awaiting hands.

I think this was the first time, I've actually managed to go into a store, with a set shopping list and only come out with those actual items.

But then again, mmmmmm ... maybe not.

OK! So the plan had actually been to only get KC new sneakers (On SALE) and I ended up getting a pair myself. But since my last pair of treads were worn to the bottom, I felt that I was justified in buying myself a new pair ... and considering they were On SALE, it was a bonus buy!

Of course, I'll say just about anything to convince myself, that I really don't have a shopping addiction. I am, after all, just used to the finer things ... (Yeah, I know ... I'm laughing too.)

On another note, the weatherman just said something about lake effect ... I must have heard wrong, cause the only lake effect I know about, is of the white, flaky, snowy kind and damn it, it's September! This better be someones idea of a really bad joke!

It was a rough day on the phones today. No sooner would I attempt to hang up my phone, then it would be off and ringing again, two calls coming in at one time.

I am convinced, that too many people knowing your name, can be a bad thing. Popularity, after all, can be a bitch.

At first you think it's great that so many people prefer to talk to you, and only you. It hypes you up.

You begin to see yourself as a supersalesperson, clowning around striking your superhero pose, as you proclaim to your office that another crisis was averted thanks to, (ta tum tee da dum trumpet fanfare) Super Salesgirl! That is, until you realize that every positive has its own negative.

Suddenly, you spend your days trapped to your phone, because customers will wait as long as it takes, to get you on the line and stoutly refuse to speak to anyone else.

You begin to define the word "team" as an army of one, because your compatriots in the sales department, decide that leaving their own phones off the hook, is the new wave of customer service. So you do your best, giving even better customer service to the call that's been on hold for half an eternity, to prove that there is someone still in the office that cares.

So you put that smile in your voice and handle call, after call, after call, with as much enthusiam as you can muster. All the while secretly planning a duct tape attack, on your office mate next door. Visions of them strapped into their chairs, with their headphones surgically attached to their head get you through the day.

Order after order, comes flying into your office, via phone and via fax, and it's all you can do, to keep up with the jobs needing to be done for that day.

With nose to the grindstone, you meticulously proof each and every order, inbetween calls and calculations, correcting errors when they arise, until you're finally faxing off the finished order confirmation, taking an extra kind moment of consideration to scrawl, "Attention: Joe Order" , so the right guy gets it at the other end.

When problems occur, you handle it, becoming the go to girl when shit goes wrong. You contact your outside reps, providing a brief play by play of the situation, always the customers advocate, until you find the resolution that works.

You believe that excellent customer service, should not be an option, even if it means having to eat a little crow once in a while and take one for the team. Fixing the problem and righting the wrong, makes you an angel in the customer's eyes, and if he didn't think so before, you've reached wonderful by the time the call comes to its close.

Wonderful however, is not wonderful ... It means you've just made a conquest of yet another customer, and soon your name, will be the only one he'll remember.

You realize you're screwed.

Getting out on time becomes a thing of the past. Although you said it wouldn't happen again, flashbacks of this time last year, come back to haunt you. You shake your head, trying to clear the memory of early mornings that lasted late until evening, as you were always the first one in and the very last to go home.

Your personal life took a nose dive, your job becoming like a husband you felt forced to please. You didn't know how to do it any other way. Once accustomed, customers had expectations, you felt forced to meet.

So you gave up your lunch hour, in order to keep up with the workload. Convincing yourself that you could be proud of your job without having to become the job, and the sacrifices you made would pay off in the end.

Still, there were days when gaving 100% didn't seem like much at all. Not with the little seed of supersalesperson still wanting to sprout inside.

Until today.

4:32 and my phone was still ringing despite the time. It didn't seem to matter to anyone, that my shift was offically over at 4:30, and I was already two minutes late, to getting the hell out of there.

It irked me, because the receptionist kept slinging calls into my room and paging me over the intercom, when she was more than well aware, that both Toni and I, were working early shift.

I looked at my phone, watching the green lights flashing furiously, in the attempt to alert me to the two calls ringing into my room. I stood there, weighing my choices, but knew that if I picked up the phone, it was sure to be a problem on the other end and one that would keep me there way past the time I was meant to go.

I hemmed for a moment, and the I hawwed. But what I did, still amazes me.

"No! Not today!" said the little voice in my head, "Not on KC's first day of school, is there any way, I am going to stay over and miss all the details of how her first day went! I'm going home, and I'm going home now!"

So I packed up my things, grabbed my purse and keys and made my way to the time clock, walking by a shocked receptionist holding a phone in her hand saying, "But Stacey, it's for you ..."

I suppose I could have stopped and reminded her that had I left on time, I would have already been half way home, but it seemed a moot point.

Instead, I gave her a bit of friendly advice, even as I was walking out the door not bothering to look back.

"Put it in my voicemail ... or give them someone else. I'm going home."

Did I ever tell you, that I do a mean Dr. Ruth impersonation?

For real, it's absolutely true. People around the fax machine were most impressed with my "sexually speaking" skills.

But, I can't take all the credit. If it weren't for a certain local radio station who aired her show every Sunday night at 10, then I never would have learned as much as I did, when I was still a naive youngster.

Joe, who happened to be in the fax room, around the time this little chit chat was taking place today, had only one question to ask.

"Is this the sort of conversation you two really need to be having when I'm in the room?" (I was thinking YES!)

What a prude! (Besides I'm quite sure he doth protests too much ...)

Alright people, I am to bed. I've blogged more than my share today and I need some sleep! And you can bet for damn sure, I am triple checking that alarm of mine before I hop into bed tonight!

If there was ever a scarier question a Mom could overhear her daughter ask, it surely would be this, "Chris. Do you have a hockey puck?"

I'm tempted. But no, I am not going to ask, and since he doesn't have one anyway, I don't need to worry either.

So now the kids are playing upstairs and hopefully not trashing KC's room, anymore than it already is. As usual, I've given Chris the Barbie reminder, and he has promised that he will try to refrain from disconnecting the heads from their bodies and using them as small projectiles.

I can almost hear the Barbies from here, sighing in relief.

So tonight is a school night, and I am VERY excited about that. There's something about getting back into the old routine that makes me a happy girl. Of course, it's also nice that the babysitting fees of summer are about to see a drastic reduction.

Hello money, I'd like you to meet my wallet ...

Well, off to prepare dinner (Chicken Parm), pick clothes out for tomorrow (unless KC decides to pipe in), and get the minor child fed and to bed.

Ahhhh ... Music to my ears.

A slight miscalculation on my part, has me up and about early this morning, to start the return week to work.

I should have realized last night, as I was setting my alarm, that something looked a little off kilter. Glancing at the clock, I felt a small twinge on the nerve of my consciousness, but decided since I was already comfortable and warm beneath the blankets, that getting out of bed to check the time would be a fruitless endeavor.

As the law of fruitless endeavors go, when you get up to check, nothing at all is wrong, but of course the reverse is also true. When you don't get up to check, you can bet your booty that your small twinge of whatever, was right on the money.

So imagine, if you will, my surprise when coming downstairs this morning and switching on the tele to watch my morning news and being greeted by a face I didn't recognize.

Now I'm not talking about a stalker in the middle of my living room, before you all get excited, I'm talking about the face of the news and the length of time it took me to realize, that I was watching the news before my news.

It was a very slow click of realization as it finally occurred to me, that for once, my twinge had been right on. Was it any surprise that the very first thought that crossed my mind was, "Damn! I could have slept for another hour!"

So here I am, wide awake and blogging, and making the most out of this morning time, before finishing off the a.m. preparations and heading out to the job. As usual, I really would prefer not having to go, but since my latest scratch off ticket, only resulted in my winning my two dollars back, I guess I'll have to earn my keep this week.

On the bright side, at least I'll get to flirt with my favorite customer today. He's sick, he's funny, he's my kind of man ...

It's also obvious when I'm talking to him on the phone. Last week, Joe came into my office after I had hung up the phone, and told me (as he was turning completely red in the face) that my conversation sounded a lot more like phone sex than business.

Which makes me wonder if Joe has ever heard real phone sex, cause last time I checked, laughing and giggling wasn't the preferred method of moaning that most guys who pay for that kind of thing, would like to hear. Still we're talking about a man who blushes when someone flashes him a cucumber, so you can't expect much.

Here in Upstate New York, summer is officially over. A proven fact, given that I've closed the living room windows and pulled down the storms as well.

KC, while excited, has yet to come to the realization, that after tomorrow, school will be back in session. Summer days of riding bikes, running about the yard and jumping in the pool, will be traded for warm jackets, crisp leaves and snow laden clouds lingering overhead.

The last blooms of summer will slowly fade in the backyard garden, awaiting the deep freeze that promises soon to come, as the air fills with the sound of geese, returning to their winter homes away from home.

Inside the house is cozy warm, filled with the sweet fragrance of homemade apple pies baking in the oven, while upstairs we trade out our closets to hang our winter wear in place of summers gear.

Outside, neighbors will be tending to their last minute chores, racing against the clock to finish long before the first snow has a chance to fall. Inside, mothers will be telling their children the story of the grasshopper and the ant, so that they too will understand the sense of urgency that permeates throughout the air.

Old man winter whistles overhead to remind Mother Nature, that the season has come for the time of change, and so with some reluctance, summer gives way to fall and then the fall to the winter, that comes after.

Last nights rain storm brought with it troubling dreams. Mine was so horrible, that I woke myself up, calling out in my darkened room, for my Mother not to go.

"Don't leave me!" I remember screaming, as I stood on a crumbling wall overlooking a vast mountain range, my heart filled with rage. But the air around me refused to listen, curling up into a dense fog, obscuring me in its mist.

I closed my eyes, tired with grief and frustration and wallowed in my anger, not caring that sitting on the precipice was fraught with danger.

"You must let go, child." Said a wisened voice from behind me. "You're mother didn't leave you because she had to go. She just knew it was her time ... as you will know someday."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" I asked, "She didn't even say goodbye." I paused, trying to control my emotions. "I didn't even know ... Well, how was I supposed to know? No one ever told me. She didn't tell me. I was left to live in the dark and now I am alone."

"You are never alone, child. The Lord walks with you and keeps you safe. He sends his angels to comfort you when you are sad, so that you can listen and understand the sorrow that you feel inside your heart."

Soundless tears streamed down my face, as I sat motionless on the wall.

"How am I supposed to let go my pain?" I whispered. "There's not a single space inside of me, that doesn't feel, as if I have broken in two."

A hand reached out to touch my shoulder.

"Time Stacey ... All it takes is time and keeping your heart open to the Lord, even when you are angry at him."

I sat there for a moment in silence, absorbing her words carefully.

Thoughts were alive inside my head. How could I forgive him? How could I believe that he knew what was best for me? How could I have faith in the very thing that was causing me so much pain?

"Forgiveness is still a lesson you need to learn, child. Only when you allow yourself to forgive, will you be able to live the life that was intended for you."

She spoke softly, her voice barely louder than the wind whistling in the valley below.

"Why is it child, that you've never thought to forgive yourself? Your past is not your future. It was never meant to be ... and yet I've watched you cling to it, tighter than any vine that wraps itself around a tree in endless circles. Too scared to venture into the future because you've never left your past long enough to make it so."

"You don't know what I need!" I shouted angrily, unable to free her hand from my shoulder. "I wasn't ready! Not to say goodbye, not to be alone, not to feel as if a giant hole was left in the place where my heart used to be!"

"Can you fix that?" I screamed, "Can you fix me? Can you tell me tomorrow will feel better than today? Can you tell me anything other than what I already know? That everything has changed, and I'm the only one standing here to see what's been done!"

"Oh child, let go this anger before it destroys your heart." Said the voice. "I've seen what anger can do, when bitterness is allowed to grow. Anger in small doses can be healthy, but it was never meant for you to live with, from year to year."

"It stops your heart, keeps it from beating, keeps it from knowing love and how to be loved. It destroys everything, creating for you, the very thing you fear the most, a barren landscape looking out over nothing."

Beneath me the wall began to move, at first with a gentle trembling and then growing louder, like a rumble of thunder.

"Take my hand." said the voice. "There's nothing left for you here that you haven't seen before. Come away, from the world you have created and come back to the world that holds you dear."

Slowly I turned around, grasping the hand within my own, feeling its warmth move from my hand and into my arm, until my whole body felt infused with light.

"Your daughter can be difficult, Nancy." Said the voice lovingly.

"Surely not as difficult as her grandmothers." My mother said, her eyes crinkled up in mirth, as she looked from side to side.

I raised my eyes, to see the trio standing before me, as the last wall of my heart came crumbling down.

"Grandma Pearl ... Grandma Angie ... Mother!" I exclaimed, wrapping my arms around them in a giant hug. "I have missed you so!"

"Of course you did, it's the reason why we're here ..."

*******
(As far as dreams go, this one was a doozy and one, I think, Freud woudl have a field day with. Be that as it may, I think I'll call my Mom and tell her that I love her.)