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Showing posts from November, 2008

Wishes... Wants... Needs...

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Sometimes I feel really torn. Torn between the little girl, "I want..." and the grown-up woman "I don't need that..." I was walking through Wal-Mart the other day and saw this comforter set: Oh, man. I just love the colors, the way it's put together. The richness it portrays. The warmth. It looks like how I feel in my bedroom. I stopped. Looked. Coveted/sinned. Looked at the price tag and then left it and walked away. It wouldn't match my carpet, the paint on my walls-I'd have to spend even more money fixing up the rest of my bedroom to make this one work. That night, as I laid down to sleep I looked at my comforter. It's made of blue jeans, Levis, silver tabs, etc. Worn out jeans from my kids as they were passing through their teen years and working hither and yon. One square has bike chain grease tracks across it. A black square has bleach spots from cleaning up at the Taco Time. I made a square from the Silver Tab jeans and the Nuovo jeans and

Micro-managers-who is it who really has a small mind?

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My boss is a micro-manager-sometimes. This management style drives me barely to the edge of this side of normalcy from nuts. She said she wanted all of our Cricut Cartridge images to be standardized. An example of what they do, the cartridge, the overlay, and idea book when applicable (Solutions cartridges do not have an idea book. I spent weeks redoing the images on the 60+ cartridges (while still doing my other tasks). Never a comment of how it was looking. Nothing. I put the images together EXACTLY the way she dictated. She drew an example and I made the images look like she said and showed she wanted. Now she pulls a chair up next to mine and starts looking at the images with me and says they’re so mechanical, so sterile, so much the same. Duh! What was she thinking? What was she really asking for? What was she trying to get at? She was talking about how she had been checking out our new store front-which we should be able to go live with in mid-December. I brought up the new stor

35+ years and still there are rude surprises...

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Monday David was still on vacation-let’s face it. He’s put in 10 years with Qwest and so has more vacation time than I do so of course he could take an additional day off. Me on the other hand-not even a year with Provo Craft/Creative Xpress so less vacation and yes, it was back to work on Monday for me. Well, David had stuff he needed to do for the Stake. They want wireless and hardwire Internet connections in the Relief Society and YM/YW room. That meant he had to run data-com cables and make connections and then check those connections to make sure they were live and functional. These things take time. Once he actually begins a project like this he wastes little time. It’s all the other little things that he wades through before the initiation of the project that determines the time when he completes the project. We choose to be a one car family. It’s more cost effective (since he can ride the bus to and from work) so of course I had no issue with him driving me to work, dropping me

transportation...

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Monday night dad pulled the car into the garage and half busted off the passenger side view mirror. Early rise Tuesday morning and drove (with said side view mirror tied down) to the airport. During the flight I pulled out the Oreos. The little one ate the stuffing out of the middle and left me with the cookie. Strange-he left the best part. Ah well-guess the saying is true, "one man's trash is another man's treasure." Rode a plane to Florida. Rode a bus to the resort. Yeah-that's right. The seats are red and have gold stars-reminding you of pixie dust on them. Rode a monorail to the park. Rode a steam train around the park. Rode a boat back to the resort. Yippin' that's right. That be mouse ears made of towels on the bed! We had fun. Celebrating dads 10th year anniversary at work. Celebrating my fulfilling a lifetime dream/goal of getting a 4-year degree. Celebrating grandson's baptism. Yeah-I think this is a t-shirt occasion... On take off the little