Where I Am Right Now

Physically

Right now I am at work.  Yes, I have a 9-5.  5:30, actually.  (Does anyone know why Dolly sang about "9 to 5" rather than "8 to 5"?  In the '80s, did lunch time not count as time off the clock?  Or were there only 1/2 hour luncheons for 7.5 hour days?  Which is what I have, actually, if I take an hour lunch.  This is something I've contemplated way too much since entering the work force.)

I am a secretary.  Secretary/office coordinator, which really means The Queen.  Which I'm cut out for, 'cause that's what I always wanted to be.  At work, being The Queen means I am in charge of:

1 - Office Supplies:  storage, distribution, and ordering.
2 - Break Room Supplies:  see Office Supplies.
3 - Scheduling of Meeting Rooms.
4 - Opening and Closing of the Main Doors:  There's a fancy "Locked/Unlocked" switch under my desk.  I'm the Queen Gate Keeper.
5 - Typing Up of Handwritten Edits:  this entails fluency of Lawyer Hieroglyphics.  I am proficient.
6 - Varied Other Secretarial Type Duties Which Are Not Very Interesting At All But Pay Well.

Mentally

Somewhere between 6 yo and 6.5 yo is a good guess.  Without the potty humor.  I hate potty humor.  But I love children's books.  And Jane Austen.  Maybe I'm between 6 yo and 16 yo.  I definitely have the hormonal crazy thing going on.  Maybe I'm between 6 yo and pre-menopause.

Spiritually

Lent was a lazy time.  Sure, I avoided the soda pop like I said I would, and the Starbucks (not for political reasons, just because I love going there every morning before work and giving it up was a sacrifice).  Other than that, Lent was like every other time of year.  Until Holy Saturday.  Confession Time!  My Confessor did not say anything particularly striking - nothing that I can quote.  It was the Examination of Conscience that whacked me over the head.  The Beatitudes.  EVERY SINGLE ONE.  I'd been playing the "I'm a good person" game way too long, avoiding discernment, avoiding really looking at how my actions/attitude/thoughts were affecting everyone around me, how I was expecting everyone to just accept and like me at all moments, no matter how lazy or passive-aggressive or pouty when I don't get my way. Make no mistake - my family does love me, even when I'm a complete brat.  But they don't like Bratty Mitzi very much and definitely don't enjoy being around B.M. (Ha, ha!  Didn't mean to set it up like that, but it makes sense.  Bratty Mitzi is a Total Poop.)  Something needed to change, and it was ME.  How is it that I long for control over every single thing out of my control, but whine and pout and mope that "I can't control my actions!  They're controlled by my emotions and YOU are not entertaining enough to put me in a happy mood so this is YOUR fault!" when in fact the only person I can control is myself?  Not my emotions - my actions.  The ups and downs will come no matter how close to God I am (see:  Mother Theresa, Saint Therese de Lisieux, Saint John of the Cross, etc.), but I can control how I react.  So I am girding up for the battle by easing slowly into personal daily prayer (not just night time prayers with the Littles).  We'll see how well I accomplish that.  As this is not my first attempt, I'm not fooled into thinking it will be easy or that I'll have a perfect record.  Jesus got up again after falling.  

Wow, this is a boring post.  I'm going to put it up anyway because I can and this is only my second attempt and if I wait for every post to be fascinating and perfect nothing will ever get posted. 

Coquades!  (I'll explain that non-existent word in another post.)

The Why.

So ... here it is.  My first blog post.  (Is there much rejoicing?  Banners waving?  Minstrels consumed by many-headed beastie?)

This is much more difficult than I supposed.  I think I'll talk about the "why" of this blog to ease myself (and you, Dear Reader) into this Wacky and Wild (hopefully Wonderful) World of ... um, Blogging.  (Is there a "w" word for "blogging"?  "Wordsmithery", perhaps.  Also, am I using the Oxford comma correctly?) 

Ahem.  The Why.

You know, I don't know Why.  Rather, I cannot think of one, concrete Why.  A few reasons pop into my mind, but no one Reason to which I can assign blame attribute taking this desire to spew my internal crazy share my introspective gems of wisdom and growth with whoever is reading this ... Thing.  

You know what?  I'm the Mommy, and I get to do what I want to (unless it's eat a meal without being asked to share.  I can't do that).  So I'm going to make a list of reasons and you can pick whichever you think is the right one:

1 - I've been a Wanna-Be-Journaler since 1988, when my grandmother gifted me a pretty pink journal with a padded cover adorned with a shy mouse and a golden lock and key.  Most of that journal was filled with rants against the Youngest Sister, who I never learned to "just ignore" despite my mother's best efforts. 

2 - My once therapist ("Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord."  He was a good man and I look forward to seeing him again someday.)  recommended journaling to help me through The Great Divide of 2011-2012 and when/while I followed his advice I found he was absolutely right - it was therapeutic, relaxing, and helped to put my internal crazy introspection into its place.

3 - The crazies are creeping back because there's Change and I don't like Change so I mope around the house and snap for-no-good reason at the Littles and the Calm One and for (what seems to me at the time) good reason at the Matriarch.  The Littles, Calm One and Matriarch don't like this and it just makes me unhappy for being so unreasonable (because I do know that being snippy with the Matriarch is really not reasonable no matter how much I want her to be The Villain) so maybe if I document the Change here and edit for too much whining I can put it in its place.  

4 - I've spent a good part of the last 6 or 7 years reading other blogs with great enjoyment and these bloggers make it look so fun and I don't like Missing Out on Fun.  

5 - All of the above.

6 - Inside my rather ordinary exterior lurks an E. Nesbitt just waiting to burst out.  

Oh, I hope it's the last one!