teeth

Teeth. Teeth have been a problem lately. B-girl got a crack in one of her baby teeth and had to get it capped over the summer. Adult and baby teeth are coming and going faster than the downtown traffic. There is the B-girl's grinding problem that nothing can be done about until she is older. Then this past weekend, another tooth breaks the rules.

Yes , just when you think things are clipping along, your daughter wakes you up early on Saturday morning and says,

"Mom I don't think my new big tooth is supposed to be coming out where it is."

I say "It's okay honey let me see."

Her front baby tooth has been "wriggly" for a while. We have been trying to get it out but it wasn't a willing participant. When I looked inside her mouth I tried desperately not to appear shocked at what I saw. Virtually overnight, her adult tooth had popped out in some strange territory above the baby tooth. It was obviously unwilling to wait for the baby tooth to vacate the premises and decided to pop out in the wrong place way above and beyond where teeth are supposed to line up.


We tried to pull the baby tooth out to no avail. On Monday I called the dentist, got an emergency appointment and picked the B-girl up from school early. She was very happy to see me. I explained to her that we were going to the dentist to see about her tooth. She was glad to be going on an excursion with mom while the other kids were still at school. I was convinced she has some kinda' freak tooth complication never witnessed before in the northern hemisphere. As per usual, I calmly hid my alarm behind my motherly smile.


The dentist said he has seen "this type of thing before and usually after the baby tooth is pulled out the adult tooth goes where it is supposed to be...if not we deal with it later".

Deal with it later? My beautiful child has a big ole' incisor protruding out of her gums in the wrong place.

The dentist tells me, the B-girl and the dental assistant we have "no worries at this point".

At which point do I begin to worry? What if the tooth doesn't "fall back into position"? What if it is a rebellious tooth? I never could adopt the Scarlett O'Hara attitude of "I'll think about it tomorrow." I prefer to worry about everything now.

I proceed to extract a more detailed prognosis from the dentist and he seemed frustrated at my persistence. Wait and see was the final conclusion.

Let's face it...I had braces -- huge, shiny railroad tracks that hid my teeth for four years -- the kind of braces they don't even make anymore.

Will my baby have to have braces? My mother says she will have to have them because she knows everything when it comes to her B-girl. No one will know for sure until all the grown up teeth arrive.

We have to "wait and see how it all turns out".

So on this occasion the dentist pulled out the baby tooth and we were grateful.

On the way home B-girl was just happy to have a tooth to put out for the Tooth Fairy. The dentist also gave her a note for the Tooth Fairy to inform her the B-girl had her tooth pulled and just happens to be his best patient. I resolved that it is too early to tell anything about this tooth and let the fear go. She is healthy and that to me is all that matters.

Later that evening, in some kind of cosmic confusion, the Tooth Fairy accidentally left the B-girl two five dollar bills instead of the two single dollars in her wallet. It was dark and the tooth fairy had taken her contacts out.

Now the Tooth Fairy has no lunch money.

You Belong in Summer

Energetic, creative, and very curious about the world...You're not going to let anything hold you back, especially a cold day.Whether you're chilling out at the beach or partying all night, you live for the warm weather.

What Season Are You?

anticipation


Friday night, Saturday, Saturday night, Sunday, Sunday night.

That's the breakdown of the time allotments. Last weekend was so busy that this weekend is like welcoming an old friend...the leisure weekend.

And to think that just last summer I was not working and did not appreciate these precious hours like I do now.

Of course there are the "mundane tasks"

cleaning
washing clothes
grocery shopping
basically preparing for Monday when it's back to work and school.

but there are the other things...

time to actually cook breakfast and eat it at the table!

a leislurely walk with my daughter down to the park at the corner.

a good movie or college football game.

sleeping in if you want to or need to (not that my daughter would allow such a thing).

reading

or

catching up on the blogs

Yes, going back to work has made me appreciate the fleeting moments of the weekend. And since I work PR in spin city, there will be weekends whenI will have to work at some pre-planned special event and there are many coming up soon.

So for this weekend, I am lucky.

I have nothing in particular planned.

They say it is going to rain, but I don't care. Nothing can dampen my enthusiasm for heralding these glorius hours of freedom.

Freedom to spend with my beautiful six-year-old daughter who refers to the weekend as "mommy and me time." Yes I know.

I may not achieve great things this weekend.

I probably won't get all the "mundane tasks" done and will find myself stringing them out through next week.

I will, however, have fun.

And one thing is for sure

I will savor every moment.

Hope yours is wonderful too!

picture day


Today is picture day at the B-girl's school and let me tell you something -- she is ready. She is ready and she pretty much organized herself.

Last year we argued about what she would wear for picture day. This year my first grader took a whole different approach.

Yesterday after work me and the B-girl took my mother for an MRI. Don’t ask me what kind of doctor schedules an MRI for 5:30 in the afternoon in the middle of rush hour.

By the time we got mom back home it is already nearly 7 p.m. The B-girl pipes up that she needs new shoes to wear with her dress for "picture day". She always mentions these things in front of my mother because she knows my mom will be her tag teammate. Like clockwork mom proceeds to lecture me on how important it is for my daughter, who is growing out of all her shoes faster than the speed of sound, gets nice new shoes for her picture. I try to reason that the shoes will not be in the photo, but I am clearly out-numbered.

"Okay" I said "I promised you some new dress shoes but we are going to Payless so mommy can pay less," I tell my little mall rat.

At Payless we secured the "cream-colored shoes and "light" pink tights she needed to wear with her "pink velvet dress with the sparkles that Aunt Dottie got for her". After several days of reviewing the clothes in her closet, the pink number became her chosen dress for the picture.

On the way home the kid (who really has more together at six than I had throughout my childhood and teenage years) reminds me that I do not like the curlers I put in her hair during the last "curl-your-hair event" and we should stop and get some new ones. I calmly agree and stop at Walgreen's to pick up a sponge assortment.

Once home, she finishes her homework, puts everything in her backpack and proceeds upstairs where I draw her bath. She insists on washing herself and putting in the shampoo and conditioner but I am given free liberty on the shower rinse to make sure all the soap comes out.

Every night after her bath I dry her off and put her robe on her. She is then allowed to watch her pink TV in her bedroom while she dries. She calls it "my relaxing". I, of course, want her life.

After her "relaxing" I blow dry her hair and put the curlers in. B-girl's hair is thick and beautiful but arrow straight making it very difficult to curl.

She falls right to sleep and I am completely exhausted but unable to sleep because circumstances have forced all "relaxing" out of my life, never to be seen or heard from again.

This morning I wake up the B-girl and pull the curlers out. She has cute little curls and I think wow this is going to be great. Add a couple barrettes, brush it out a little and she is ready for her big picture day.

Not so simple.

After we put her dress on and get her underclothes and "light Pink" tights on, I pick up the brush and she says to me, " Mom stop right there".

I say "why?"

She says "Remember last time? You brushed all my curls out and all I had was frizz." I pretend not to remember that particular day and proceed with putting one barrette onto her head. The "medium" pink barrette looked so cute I was ready to go to the other side. While I am putting #2 she pulls #1 out.

"Okay mom", she says. "Let me do it."

"Fine", I say surrendering due to time constraints.

She does not brush or comb it. She leaves it the way it is while I question her hair decisions. She then says “By the time they take my picture the curls will be loose and I won't have any frizz this time." I actually contemplate this statement and decide there is a certain amount of logic contained in it.

She puts her pink fur coat on over her pink sparkly dress and we proceed to school. Pink faux fur is a family tradition.

When she walks in all the girls swarm around her to see her fur coat and tell her how pretty she looks.

I smile, kiss her and wish her a good picture day. She says to me” Mom you know I always take a good picture."

I proceed to work and while driving I think back to the fear I had of picture days. My mother would always cut my bangs the night before and my pictures always came out like someone had cut my bangs after having a few martinis. Mom!


Here I am worried about the B-girl’s curls when she gets to school and appears to be the most prepared six year old in class. And let's face it --- she directed us through the steps we needed to take last night for the preparations she needed to feel confident on picture day. Days ago, she told me which dress should be cleaned pressed and ready for this event. Even the outfit was her choice.

As I pulled into work this morning I take a moment to breathe a sigh of relief. I am raising a female with confidence. No worries for her, even on picture day. Maybe sometimes she is a little over-confident but I am working to achieve a balance. On picture day, however, you need all the positive reinforcement you can get.

Her ability to prepare and plan at her tender age completely astounds me.

I am not sure where she gets it but I am glad she has it.

The kid's
got brains
and style!

weekend warriors

So, you are probably wondering why I haven't posted. I know Sara is!

It's because I am so tired. Here was the schedule beginning with last Thursday, after work:

Thursday
Go to B-girl's elementary school open house where Kelly put together a fantastic outing of pony rides, food and fun.

Friday after work
Go to see old boss’s (yes the mayor of the next-door city) band play in the R-town Pumpkin Festival. Actually that was fun. I did not have the B-girl for the first time in a long, long time, and was able to hang out with all adults.

Saturday morning
Go to a wedding shower for my cousin's daughter. The B-girl went with us girls including grandma, sister in law and nieces. That was fun. B-girl won a pot of mums and a beautiful spa basket. Glad I brought her (she was invited).

Saturday afternoon
Return to the R-town Pumpkin Fest with the B-girl this time. She wanted to go plus she wanted to hang out with the kids of the people I used to work with (we still keep in touch). This was the job before the last job (not the healthcare job). It was the job I should have stayed in and never have left to work for the healthcare marketing hacks.

Saturday night
B-girl is not feeling well (and she is planning to go to St. Al’s festival the next day).

Sunday
By 1:00 in the afternoon we end up at the emergency room where my B-girl has had an allergic reaction to something that has caused a rash all over her body. I am not sure what the reaction was caused by, but her symptoms started right after the school open house and got worse from there.

While we are with the doctor, I say to her, “Looks like you won’t make it to the carnival” and she begins to cry.

The doctor pipes in “Oh I am sure she will be able to go to the carnival in a couple of hours.” He SAYS THIS IN FRONT OF HER. Another brilliant Einstein employee of the healthcare system from which I was laid off. It occurred to me at that particular moment I should not be working with any of them anyway.

So after a couple hours of illness and listening to the B-girl ramble on about how the doctor told her she could attend the festival, we perk back up and proceed to St. Al’s for the last festival of warm weather and, as per our usual festival outings, we end up staying there for hours. We go to Grandma's to visit with and check on her, and then back to the carnival.

Monday

Work and B-girl has dance after school.
B-girl still taking steroids for allergies.

Today

Work and stop to see Grandma on the way home.

Since I have been back to work and B-girl back to school, our calendars are now full.

This brings me to you. I haven’t forgotten you, my dear blogging friends.

Don’t you hate it when real life comes between us?

Soda or Pop?


I call it "pop" because I was raised in Michigan. Many people call it soda. That is actually what I prefer to call it, but if you ask for "soda" around here peoople look at you funny.

When I lived down south, I noticed that many people call it Coke. Even if it is another brand, like Mountain Dew, for instance, they still call it Coke. That, to me, is very confusing.

So here's the breakdown on who calls it what.

What do you call it -- pop, soda, Coke or "other"?

I sure wish they would have given examples of the "other" names!

sleep requirement

she lays quiet and still
after a day of full-strength stress
eyes wide open in her dark bedroom
the breeze swirls the curtain
muted sounds of the city come in
traffic, people, a rescuer's siren
the sheets are cool and clean
in a room designed for slumber
when will rest impart to her?
the insomniac never knows.

pants that just lay around
are useless


I don't have much time. I am on the way to work, but here is this morning's short:

The B-girl and myself are back to our school morning
bicker about clothes.

This morning it was the pants I put out for her.

She puts them on comes into my room and says,

"I can't wear these pants."

"Why"? I ask.

"Because they lay on my skin," she says.

"All pants lay on your skin," I said "It's their job."

"Mom, these pants are not doing a good job, they are doing a bad job."

After two or three minutes of discussion of the problems with these pants, I find the culprit -- they are made of polyester. The B-girl hates polyester and will not wear it because it makes her miserable and sometimes sweaty.

She went back into her bedroom, changed into her favorite jeans and went on her way.

I guess the blue jeans do a "nice job" when they "lay on the skin".

In my middle age, I had to have a picky kid!

At least she is wearing cotton now.

I am hoping that if her pants do a good job at school, so will she.

September 11, 2001
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September 11, 2001



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today America cried.
today I cried for America.
for victims
for families
for peace.

no we can't, yes we can

This is an update to a previous post. It is also an interesting take on our so-called sisterhood.

Remember I thought I lost the notebook at the Avalon Cafe in downtown Detroit? Turns out, I did! When I called back on Tuesday I spoke with an assistant manager named Sue. She said they had found my notebook and put it in the locked office, so when I come back to ask for her or the manager.

Although I wanted to go back there because the food is so delicious, I did not have enough time available this week to go that far at lunch or after work, so I asked her if she could drop it in the mail for me. It is a reporter's notebook and they are quite small. She said no they could not. Get this - they don't have any envelopes big enough so someone would have to go down to the post office and that is impossible because they are too busy.

I asked Sue if the manager was there. His name is James and I had spoken to him the previous Friday. She said he was not in.

I called there later in the afternoon and luckily Sue did not answer the phone. I asked for James and they said he was in. James (the manager) sounds very professional over the phone. I asked him if he could mail the notebook to me at work and he said he would be glad to send it that very same day!

Now I ask you, where is the so-called sisterhood? Sue had all kinds of reasons not to drop a little notebook in the mail but James had no problem with it.

Anyway, I thought the distinct difference in their cutomer service approaches was notable.

I received the notebook on Friday just in time to finish my task. Crisis averted. Life is good.

Macy's comes to Michigan

Yes finally Macy's is here. Of course this is not New York, wish that it were, but Marshall Field's officially becomes Macy's today. The B-girl and I are going to the big grand opening sale.

The B-girl felt bad that Marshall Field's is now gone. I informed her that we didn't have it for long. I explained the really painful parting of Hudson's ( a Detroit icon) before Field's. I was there with my mother at the B-girl's age when the Southland Mall and its fantastic Hudson's anchor store opened in 1972. It was big doings. It also marked the end of suburbanites going to downtown Detroit to shop.

From Hudson's to Marshall Field's to Macy's. When Hudson't left I was sad and bitter about Marshall Field's -- but Macy's, how wonderful! A true part of American history, this is a change for the better.

At first the B-girl was afraid her favorite restaurant (third floor Lakeshore Grill) would close now. She loves the cheese soup. I love everything. I told her that the Lakeshore Grill has been there since the mall opened. My mother took me there for lunch more times than I can count. I have lunched there with sister-in-law, nieces and friends. I even went there on a date once. They have a really great chef. Naturally, upon feeling the winds of change, I took action. I called and they said the restaurant would remain open, so you know where to find us for lunch.

The B-girl loves to shop. Where does she learn this stuff? :) She actually knows other six year olds who haven't been to the mall in their whole little lives except to see Santa. The B-girl has been taken there since she was a week old. I have an affinity for department stores with more than one floor, complete with escalator and elevator. Sure, I do most of my shopping at the big boxes like everyone else, but my girl and me like go to the mall for those special things: a purse, shoes, a really nice outfit, perfume, chocolates or simple basic therapy.

So, as my mother did with me so many times throughout the years, my daughter and I are off to that very same mall for a big sale. As my daughter so eloquently puts it, "It's what girls like to do."

See you there.


The milestones of Macy's...

Football for the working woman

I am not sure if I am going to do this every Friday, because many female readers no nothing about football - however, I know the game, love the game and the bloggers are blogging about their college teams, so meet Drew Stanton, pictured above. He's MSU's quarterback and it's football season.

Are you ready for some?

Ladies, there is absolutely nothing wrong with watching a bunch of guys run around a field in rather tight athletic uniforms. Why it's the American way!

There's another good reason to watch...

Listen up young women embarking on your careers. Let me suggest that if you don't know anything about football, you give it a try. When you find yourself at a lull in a conversation or meeting with a male colleague or higher up, you can always mention a game to keep the conversation lively and interesting. You can do the same with other sports as well. Just be sure you know some facts before you try this maneuver. Discussing sports with your male counterparts makes them feel much more comfortable around you. Common ground makes for many great conversations with people you don't know very well...blogging is proof positive.

the office worker


Who isn't glad The Office won the Emmy for most outstanding comedy series? Now that I am back at work "the office" consumes a rather large part of my day. And being new to the new/old job, I am still sizing up those around me. (This is not a pic of my office even though I have promised to post one. Once I get the storage boxes cleared out...I will post a before and after).

anatomy of the office worker

which one are you?


The Hoarder: Here is the keeper of the office supplies, and you'd better have a good reason to want to refill your stapler, otherwise you will feel the Hoarder's wrath.

Stand Off: Talks to few, acknowledges even fewer. The Stand Off can't even look you in the eye. He/she is an island .

The Invisible Worker: Immune from working standard eight-hour days, this offender has never seen 9 a.m. or 5 p.m. on the office clock--because he/she arrives late and leaves early.

Too Sunny: It's nice to see some people in a good mood, but for the love of God, nobody is as happy as this torturer! How can one person smile all the time?!

Coffee Chief: Question: When was the last time you saw this person without a coffee cup in his/her hand?

Smoke Club: A smelly group that tag-teams outside for a cigarette break. Avoid sharing an elevator with these people unless you want to be assaulted by nasty fumes.

Angry Guy/Gal: Given to harsh outbreaks at the most innocent provocation. He/she goes off--ranting and raving at the drop of a hat--because he/she has no self-control. Call security!

Loud Talker: You can be at one end of the office, and this person is on the other end, and you can hear every syllable. And woe to those who have a desk near this beast.

The Casual Cretin: This person does Casual Friday on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday as well. Hey, hotshot, sandals year-round aren't a fashion statement, they're a disaster!

Social Butterfly: Flittering from one desk to another, eager to strike up conversations that promise to keep you from the more mundane tasks, like getting your work done.

The Peacock: Strutting his/her stuff in the most attention-getting outfits, this person thinks the line to make copies is really a fashion runway.

The Pushover: The most inept co-worker of all. So nice and meek that he/she gets run over by everybody, from the boss to the mailroom clerk.

The E-Mail-Brave: The mid to upper management guy/gal who talks the big talk via e-mail, but cowers like a frightened puppy when confronted face to face.

The Performance Metric: This talented individual can sense slowdowns on the network or file servers in the milisecond range, and has IT support on speed dial so they can report anything less than optimal response from all systems.

The Seagull Manager: Flies in, makes a lot of noise, ***** all over the place, and flies off.

Chronic Complainer: The 'chronic complainer' is usually the co-worker that has worked for the company a few years longer than he or she might have expected. He or she may have once been a model employee, but a few shot-down ideas or confrontations with the boss later, they prefer to be the voice of doom.

Office Gossip: This personality type lives for the controversies and disagreements that may arise in such close quarters. Although rarely a part of the official loop, the office gossip will routinely position themselves to 'accidentally' overhear privileged communications or intercept confidential memos and phone calls.

Information Miser: If you work in an business environment that uses a system of 'nodes' as their model, you may encounter the 'information miser'. Certain node managers realize that their information is vital, which gives them considerable leverage when bargaining for their own agendas. They will hold onto their information until they are satisfied that their own needs have been met.

Know-it-all: Perhaps the worst scenario possible in the workplace can be the inevitable calling of the expert. You've done everything you know how to do to fix the situation, but now you must call in the reinforcements. Introducing... the know-it-all. The know-it-all may be a skilled repairman or a knowledgeable consultant, but an absolute disaster as a co-worker.

Mood-swingers: These are the people whose daily temperatures must be taken before entering into any conversation. They may be perfectly pleasant one day, then completely irrational the next. If they are in a supervisory position, their subordinates usually walk on eggshells in their presence. They are a tribe unto themselves.

the great white block S hope

So my friend called me and asked me why I took my photo off my profile.
She asked why I removed my smiling face off my blog.

I love it that my friends read my blog but refuse to join Blogger to make comments. Sometimes they will just call me with comments. What is that about?

"Oh there's a reason", I said emphatically. "I'll bring back my photo later but right now it's football season."

I proceeded to tell her how Bernadette had posted a blog with a pic of Sparty...how I felt the need to show some school spirit, like I do when I hang my flag outside every Saturday and usually wear a Spartan sweatshirt on game days.

"Why do you do that to yourself every year?," she asked, reminiscing about the many seasons I have entered with a "this is going to be the year" mentality.

"Because I am a football fan. Because I went to school there. Because sooner or later it's going to happen," I said.

"I like your persistence," she said. "Maybe you should apply that kind of energy to another area of your life."

My eyebrows furrowed together and I was thinking to myself, "what the heck is she talking about? She is a faux fan."

"You don't understand," I said. "It's about loyalty. It's about the homeland. It's about being an alum and rooting for the team regardless of the stats. Besides, you went to business school and they don't have a football team there."

"No, but that makes me a lot more grounded in reality," she said.

"No, it makes you some kinda' wannabe Wolverine fan," I said. "Let me remind you we already won our first game."

"Against who? Some potato pickin' school with a student population of less than 20," she said with venom in her voice.

"Listen up business school girl turned Michigan fan for reasons I still don't understand," I said, "This is it. This is the year."

"Wish I had a dollar for every time you said that," friend replied laughing.

"Only time will tell, I said.

"It always does," she said.

"You're gonna' be sorry you said that," I replied.

So here it is football season in Michigan and Spartans and Wolverines everywhere are already drawing lines in the turf. We don't even play each other until October 7th but that's the way it goes.

We take our college football seriously around here. We will be mocking each other and arguing about wins and losses for weeks to come.

We can all only agree on one thing...

Beating Ohio State!

erreur du jour


Well I made it through my first week at the new/old job without too much pain. I did however make a mistake. God how I hate to admit any of them.

It wasn't a huge mistake, but it was a mistake just the same.

I lost a paper I was holding for the new boss. Yes that's right. I was holding it for him at lunch and when he asked me for it later, it was gone. Vanished. Thin air, mystery kinda' stuff.

Of course, it is quite possible my attention may have been momentarily diverted away from the papers at hand...

It happened when we went to lunch with the president and a lady from the botanical garden foundation. They are working on a fantastic one-million dollar improvement to the city park and we are going to give them publicity.

The president is cool. We have known each other all our lives. I think he was glad to see me back in Spin City. He insisted on driving us to a cafe downtown (out of spin city and into Detroit) . When you live in the suburbs, a trip to the city is always a guaranteed adventure.

The president wanted to go to this place because he likes their organic food and buys the bread. Who's going to argue with the president?

On the way, the boss is taking notes for the story he is writing for the a large publication. I am talking to them about public relations, so we are giving them the writer boss, public relations assistant one-two punch. They seemed impressed. The president is the leader of the mission to build this fantastic garden.

Things were going great. The lady, who is the co-founder of the foundation, gave me a brochure for my boss to use in his story. I was holding it with my notebook.

The president drove us downtown. We took a wrong turn into a new development of houses and streets. In Detroit, new houses are a good sign, and these were great. We found ourselves at the corner of Aretha Ave. and Temptations Blvd. We got slightly lost but made it to our destination.

The place, as many good places often do, appeared to be a hole in the wall. Once inside, turns out they have the coolest little cafe with a plethora of all-organic products.

We ordered breads and ate the Focaccio for lunch. Mine was a fresh tomato and basil with cheese. I paired it with a Pellegrino sparkling mineral water. Delicious!

We ate alfresco at the little tables near the street. This appears to be where I lost track of not only the paper I was holding for my boss but also the notebook in which I had scribbled some notes from my first week.

I had the notebook and brochure sitting next to my bread. I bought a very long French Baguette (see photo) and an Italian bread with a hint of dill and scallion. All natural, all good.

We were sitting outside in the warm sun in the city. About ten feet from us were two Rastafarians playing a rather enjoyable beat on their home-made drums. I began thinking how a rather mundane day had turned quite wonderful. Then I started thinking about whether I had enough bread. And there were those all organic bagels, muffins and sticky buns that I didn't have a chance to study. Should I go back in and buy something else before we go? Who knows when I'll come back here again?

The whole thing gets a little fuzzy here. I thought I put my notebook and the brochure in my bread bag. The president put all our bread bags in the car. When I got back to the office I realized I had the wrong bag. We had all bought French Baguettes. Later in the afternoon, the president was meeting my boss again so I ran down to his car to exchange bags.

I brought my real bag up to my office to retrieve my notebook and the brochure my boss needed. When I opened the bag, only my bread was there. I called the president and the restaurant. Nobody has seen the notebook or the brochure.

When my boss asked me for the brochure on Friday afternoon right before I left, I had to fess up that I misplaced it. I NEVER make that kind of mistake. Now I am back at the new/OLD job and I made a mistake like that? I called the foundation lady and she said she had more brochures, so I told my boss I would have another brochure for him on Tuesday. He wasn't as upset about this as I was (am).

And the notebook? It only had a couple of notes but I really need them. Did I lose it at the Cafe? It somehow vanished between there and the president's car. The manager of the Cafe (James) is really nice. He did not find my papers on Friday when he put me on hold to look for them. He told me they would be cleaning over the weekend and for me to call back on Tuesday to check again. I will, but I have a gut feeling they won't find it.

I have been a writer for 20 years and have never lost my notes. While I was out of work over the summer, and in a fit of cleaning out my life, I finally threw away 20 years of notebooks that I should have parted with long ago.

The reality is I don't have time to cry over spilt mineral water. I will have to move on to achieving much success at the new/old job. I will not be getting one of those "honeymoon" periods because I have worked there before.

Even though I made a small mistake, Friday was still good.

There are no good bakeries around here.

Now I know where to get some bread,
as long as it doesn't interfere
with my ability to make some.