Friday, March 9, 2012

Journal 140 When the stars align...

THIS is the phrase I thought of the other night in the kitchen! Yes...I remembered!
It's Friday, I just finished lunch, I have a meeting in three minutes, and I've started drinking my coffee at work BLACK. I know. It's that Via Instant Starbucks, Italian blend.
It's that good.
Ok. Just had to get that down before I forgot.
I will be back, after the workday, to talk about weekend plans, how things went at the bank, and why I thought of this little gem of an expression the other night.

I'm back.
It was one hell of a tiring workweek, one where, on Fridays, I am often "done".  I am right now.
I'm done solving problems, I'm done doing the jobs of others, I'm done listening to clients out-and-out lie about things that happen on jobsites (true story. I understand, as I get deeper and deeper into my full-time life, one that is coming up on fourteen years, how people have these 'breaking points' at forty and switch careers/run away and join the circus/start some incredible start-up and have it work: being a salary-slave ain't easy. The good clients make it great. The bad ones {don't get me started} make it agony).
And I'm in a tough industry, one that I don't get into too much detail with about on this blog, as I do have to keep my job--I have a mortgage, a retirement plan, dreams, and hopes. But that being said,
it's not been an easy workweek. Throw in the full moon, raging pms (the kind, as my friend L. and I describe as "making life un-live-able") and you can understand why, at 6pm on a Friday night, I am home, waiting for Mike to get back from his run, having some leftover gyozas I just heated up and nursing a glass of the leftover Chablis from Wednesday night. Oddly, even though I've had it 'up to here' with work, Mike and I are having dinner with my sole work "friend" and her husband tomorrow night.  I say sole because my workplace is competitive and female-filled, and sorely, decidedly un-feminist, meaning there is little cooperation and more under-bus-throwing than I would like, but it is what it is. My work-friend and I 'get' each other, as both of our life-experiences have played out to mould us into the life-first type of women we are today.
I endured meeting after dysfunctional meeting today, and at the end of it all, I asked myself, "am I in an insane asylum?" because that is how it sometimes feels, as I sit in a boardroom watching a parody of "the emperor's new clothes" and me being me, I just want to yell out "They're NAKED" but I keep silent.  Occasionally something is so ridiculous a smile plays at the corner of my mouth and I know I am bound for change. It just hasn't found me yet.

So. The stars' alignment thing. Mike was using it as a sports' analogy (isn't everything? I can't count the number of times I've noticed the phrase "At the end of the day" coming up in EVERYONE I knows daily speech) but in this case Mike was talking about how, for a team to win the big prize, the cup, the bowl, what have you--things have got to be just right. Luck is a factor.  And it got me to thinking about my cross-border marriage, and how the stars aligned just right for that too, and how, with this whole immigration thing, I have to let myself believe that two honest, hardworking people will be okay in the end to be able to live in the other's respective home country, go back and forth, and continue to work in their respective industries and flourish while doing so.

Anyway. It's dinnertime.
See you tomorrow.

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