YOU MIGHT LIVE IN A QUESTIONABLE NEIGHBORHOOD IF...

1) Your neighbor walks up to the corner market for smokes and is sucker punched in the eye by a total stranger when he denies said strangers request for change.

2) Your neighbors around the corner call you to help chase a tweaker who is kicking car doors.

3) The same neighbors have called 911 so many times that they are on a list and the dispatchers now know them by name when their phone number comes up.

4) Your neighbor on the other side of the house (the one without the big old shiner) spray painted his Dodge Caravan in a black and white "Camo Theme".

5) That neighbor also called the police to report the theft of an ashtray from his front porch.

6) It is not unusual to see people at the grocery store in slippers and pajama bottoms. In the middle of the afternoon. (Okay, maybe not questionable. Just tacky.)

7) One of the last remaining pay phones in the world is a block from your house. And sometimes the residents of the 'hood bring out a chair to get comfy while they use it.

What about your hood? Anything questionable? Or maybe just tacky.

A DUCK WALKS INTO A BAR

Last night I was headed to the grocery store to pick up a few things, so I was not on my most direct route home. As I turned past a local watering hole the hubby and I sometimes frequent I saw a car back out of their parking lot and almost back into another vehicle on the road.

The bad driver followed me down the street and as we came up to a stoplight, slowed behind me. He just didn't slow enough.

BAM!

It wasn't a hard hit, but a hit nonetheless. I went through the light and pulled over waiting for the other driver. He came through the intersection...... and kept right on going.

As I stood there, mouth agape, I noted his license plate and started to laugh.

DUC HNT

Only I, an Aflac agent, would manage to get rear ended and have the driver flee when his little car was called DUC HNT.

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TO DO

I like lists. I make them all the time. Sometimes they get done and other times, not so much. Sometimes they get revised, revisited, rearranged, referred, reported and even reduced to zero.


I really hate it when I make a list for Monday morning; just to keep unorganized self, organized (well, as much as I can be for me anyway) on the way out the door; and it scares the crap out of me because of its shear length. (Damn, that was a LONG sentence.)


Monday's list looks like this so far:


-Call Claims re: F/U on John, Kandi, Farrah

-Call Payroll Dept re: transfer of policyholder and billing discrepancies at Landscape Co.

-Email Wendi re: meeting in Salem

-Call Moses re: Direct

-Call Jeanette's Daughter re: Direct

-Call Pete re: enrollment F/U at Metal Designs

-Call Aimee re: enrollment date at LCC Corporate Offices & extension letter for CA property

-Fax Wellness forms to Tina at Spring Hill

-Find Renewal Letter & Mail all Documents to the State Insurance Office

-Visit Networking Website for handout at Sales Meeting

-Patch for Group Chart

-Make updates for All Star Board and Thermometer

-Call Water Board re billing

-F/U with Wendy H. re: reimbursement from Scott

-Package and mail eBay items that are paid for



Which now means I have to go sleep. Because in my mind, I did not have near as much to do until I made this list. Which means I need to get up even earlier than I normally do on Monday's. Which also means I will lay awake all night and think about my damn list. And wonder what I left off of it. Cause I am a freak that way.

Shelby Says:

"Mom, I want to be on the list. Put me on. I am beautiful and I can hypnotize you with my eyes!"

"Or kill you in your sleep. Really, it could go either way mom."

NO CRYING IN BASEBALL

ARE YOU CRYING? There's no crying! THERE'S NO CRYING IN BASEBALL!

(A League of Their Own 1992)

I consider myself to be an empathetic person. I'm there for ya if you need a shoulder to cry on. I have been told that I am a good listener who is not judgemental and gives honest, unbiased opinions when asked for advice. I have been known to cry with people when they are in the midst of a serious crisis.

All that said, THERE IS NO CRYING IN BASEBALL!

For the love of Pete. Yesterday I found myself having just completed a successful sales presentation with another agent. We went out to her car and she checked her voicemail. Not five words in her head was in her hands and she was moaning. I thought someone had died.

Then she hung up and burst into tears. And not just, "Damn I'm so pissed off I could spit and now I am crying a tear or two out of frustration" tears. Oh no. Full blown, face squished up, shoulders shaking, bawling.

Shit.

Me: What's wrong?

G: Mwreahn, ceouhg mdihgin AND midghingwch!

Me: Um, what?

G: (pulling her hands off her face) Rosa was seeing the Spanish speaking employees at the gas station I set up and she did it while they were on the clock.

Me: Ok. Why is that bad?

G: The owner only wanted us to see them off the clock and now she says he is mad.

Me: Well, just call him and smooth it out.

G: (Still bawling, *SNIFFLE*) I just can't. I hate this. I'm no good at it and (face back in the hands) misinkgiong, (SNORK) sdmfiong amisognesg miurhsjbhhhsjk!

Me: *SIGH* I'm sure he isn't as upset as you think he is. Just stop crying and call him.

G: I should have never opened his group!

Me: (Trying SO HARD not to roll my eyes) Well, maybe not. But you did. And in the meantime, I don't think that it is nearly as bad as you think it is.

G: (now doing the post cry, stuttered inhalation) You really think so?

Me: (Trying my best not to grab her by the neck and shake) Really. And if he is, well, just move on. It's okay .

G: (still sniffling and wiping tears) Well, I could try. I guess.

Good lord. I can deal with tears. I really can. But not at work. Suck it up at work. Don't let the bastards grind you down. And don't let anyone see you cry in the work place. (Exceptions being you got a call someone died/you are going through a divorce/you had your car repossessed/etc. Note that none of these are WORK related items.)

There is no crying in baseball.

AND I THOUGHT THE DMV WAS THE SEVENTH CIRCLE OF HELL

Silly me. I hadn't been to the Social Security Administration yet.

I had to make this unfortunate trip today because A) I have been married going on four years and have not bothered to change my name with this outfit and B) I can't even find the original card with my maiden name on it. You know, that card with my oh so official number that I should always know its location. Yeah, can't find it. Anywhere. Ooops.

At any rate, this morning I had to go take care of it because I HAVE to have a current one to submit some documents for another division of your government at work. Just having the number won't cut it. They have to have a copy of the card. And I would use my passport, but as you can imagine, I have not updated that either. And can't. Until I have the new card with my married name on it.

I decided to use the "trusty internets" to find the location of the nearest office. They requested my zip code and in return, promised to tell me the location of the nearest office. I figured they would show a map of the offices within 10 miles of my home. I figured wrong.

I got back a hit on one office. The downtown office. I don't live downtown. And I don't want to go down to that office because it is going to be extremely BUSY. I decided to put in a zip code from a town further to the east. I got back another office. 2 miles from my house. Because clearly I wouldn't want to go to that office when I could go across town, sit in traffic and pay for parking.

So I head to the actual closest office, thinking that if I arrive 15-20 minutes before they open, that I will not have as long to wait.

I should have thought that through a little better.

I think there were people who camped out in line there. I was like the 20th person in line. I waited from 9-10:45 to see someone. Who thank god, was quick and to the point. I had three times the documentation that I needed (passport, marriage license, drivers license, insurance license, birth certificate and a letter from the Social Security Administration letting me know that I will never retire because they will pay me almost nothing) and had filled out the change form while I waited.

My favorite part of my trip was the armed guard in the waiting room. He was a rent a cop from Wackenhutt (the worst/funniest name for a security firm EVER) and he must have gotten the same letter from the Social Security Administration that said he can't retire either, because he had to be 70.

Upon my arrival he demanded that I state my business. Literally.

Guard: State your business for being here today.

Me: Um...I need to replace my social security card.

Guard: I need to inspect your bag.

Me: My bag?

Guard: Ma'am, I'll need to see your bag or you will have to leave.

Me: Okay then.

(I hand over my purse and laptop bag. He rifles through the purse and finds nothing. Then he opens the laptop bag.)

Guard: Ma'am, I'll need you to turn this on.

Me: Seriously?!?

(At this point I am looking for hidden cameras, thinking I am on Candid Camera and also wondering if I have stumbled into the airport by mistake.)

Guard: Ma'am, you can cooperate or I will ask you to leave.

(I turn it on. And have to enter all of the security codes to get past the firewall, anti-viral software and encryption software that my company has added to protect my clients. Now he is even more suspicious because of all the codes.)

Guard: Ma'am, why do you have so many passwords?

Me: *SIGH* Sir, I just want to get a replacement card. This is my work computer. Much like this office, it has an abundance of security measures. Not all of which may be entirely necessary.

Guard: *blink, blink, blink*

Me: Are we done sir?

Guard: Take a seat ma'am.

(As he points to the far side of the room. Away from him. Far away.)

THE SUN STILL WORKS

And thank goodness it does. I was beginning to wonder.

It has rained (or snowed) here for the past two weeks. I am tired of the precipitation. And low and behold, yesterday.....SUN! 60 degrees! And I got to be outside!

Today, more of same. =) Ahhhhhhhhhhhh. Lets not discuss tomorrow though. Allegedly, rain again for the next week.

I think Global Warming missed the memo. At least in our neck of the woods.

TO MY HUSBAND

Honey, I know you are tired. Just hang in there. It is getting better. Just keep fighting along side of me. We can do it.

I know this sucks. It's not what we signed up for three years ago. Well, I guess technically we did do that whole "for better or worse, richer or poorer" bit. I guess this is the worse and poorer part.

We can do it baby. I know we can. I think you know it too. Don't throw in the towel yet babe. We are soooo close to getting through this. We only need a couple more good months. March looks good and I am working on April.

I love you. More than stars in the sky, leaves on trees, minutes to the moon and back.
I love you always, forever, for keeps.

-k