Moving Out; Moving On

For the past two years, I’ve slept in my room at my childhood home, with my parents and sibling only a few feet away. We were a family again, a team.

Recently, I joined a new team. I moved into an apartment with my boyfriend of nearly seven years. It’s strange because the last time we lived in the same zip code was eight years ago. We’ve gone from living most of our time together apart to sharing the same space and belongings.

My parents helped us move in, and we got most of our items in order fairly quickly. But that first night is when it hit me; just like the day they dropped me off at college. I was almost as sad as they were. Even though I knew I would see them that upcoming weekend, it felt strange not living with them.

And on that first night in our new place, I started shedding a few tears. His head was on my chest, and I quickly wiped them away. But, as the evening wore on, I couldn’t stop thinking about what my family was doing, and how, at this moment, I should be with them. So, more tears started falling, until I eventually couldn’t take it and ran into the bathroom, slammed the door, and sobbed.

My boyfriend, Matt, then opened the door and took a seat on the floor next to me. He tried to wipe away the tears and get me to confess what had made ounces of water stream down my face. I just can’t tell him, I thought, it’s so stupid. I miss my family? Seriously!? We’d been waiting for ages to be able to live together, and now that we’ve finally gotten the chance to, I miss my old living situation?

Instead of asking more questions, he took me into his chest and cradled me like a child. He told me jokes, and I looked up at his face and laughed at each one.

More than two months have gone by, and I’m happy to report that my first night in the apartment was the only night I thought about my family and cried. Thank goodness that didn’t stay consistent, and, neither has other aspects of our relationship.

We argue now more than we ever have in the past. I can’t stand it when clothes and other belongings are left lying around in the open, or when things like toothpaste and other bottles aren’t put back in their original cabinets, yet, these situations occur all the time. We go back-and-forth about what to do for dinner, what’s happening this weekend, upcoming vacations, friends, when we should see our families again; everything is a one, big discussion. Decisions used to be easy for us; maybe it was because we had a while to plan it out before we saw one another.

Sometimes, we come home and go our separate ways. This part is still weird for me because prior to living together, every moment we got to spend around each other was sacred. Now, we’ve become so used to seeing each other all the time that it’s as if we think, eh, we’ll hang out later. And, maybe because it’s summer, we seem to have our own schedules and activities on the weekends. Recently, I booked a dinner cruise for the two of us, just so that we could get the chance to reconnect. The cruise lasted two hours, but it felt like we barely got a, “how you doin?’” in there.

If I’m making it sound like everything has just been awful, it hasn’t! I feel more connected to Matt than I have in the last seven years. I like that we can start making bigger decisions together about bills, home décor, how we spend our time, and more. I also love the fact that I get to sleep next to him every night, even though we’re both bed hogs. And, yes, we can have sex every day if we feel like it! Our neighbor upstairs may not like it, but we can do it if we want!!

More than anything, I just love the fact that he’s here, and that I can feel his presence…even if we’re not in the same room together…like right now. Currently, he’s just a shout away, instead of a phone call and 45 minutes…ah, priceless.

Granny Smith – over and out

The Fall of Man

They found him. Gunshot wound to the chest on his birthday. Although, it makes sense, his heart was what hurt the most. His wife passed away four years ago in a car accident. He was the one driving the car… He had sold his house two weeks before he took his life. He wanted to move out of the city and on with his life. But, with no job prospects and no real friends anywhere else, he must have lost all hope. Deep down, we all knew this day would come; we just thought it would have happened shortly after she died, not now.

My uncle Steve is was an introverted, angry man. He didn’t like the outside world. When he met and married my aunt, his second wife, new life was pumped into his veins. He turned himself around, started going to parties, meeting people, and he even thought about having children! He said and did things he, and we, never thought he would do. But, when he accidently hit the other car that caused her death; he also died. The spark she implanted in him was gone; he went back to his old ways, hating the world and everyone in it. Each year that he remained alive, we considered ourselves lucky.

The last time I saw him was the day before his birthday. We were at a family gathering at my grandmothers. It was to celebrate her birthday, as well as his. He retreated to the living room for most of his time there, and when he was in the kitchen, he wouldn’t talk to anyone. All he wanted to do was play with his smart phone. When my grandmother talked to him, he answered her with a strong tongue and boiling anger in his eyes. No one could say or do anything to please him at this point.

I didn’t even bother trying to talk to him for fear that he would lash out at me. In fact, in all the years that we’ve been family, I’ve never said more than a few sentences to him. He wasn’t the type of uncle to show up at your high school play, take you out for ice cream, or make small talk. He was a man who just wanted to be left alone.

Sure, I could cry my heart out, take off of work for a few weeks, and preach to everyone about how you need to, “hold you loved ones close.” But, I can’t. I’ve never loved this man. To me, this isn’t a heartbreaking loss.

In fact, this isn’t a loss at all. My uncle did not die; he’s very much alive. Today he turns another year older…and colder, that is true. And, as I sat near him the other day, not speaking a word, I was reminded of how awful of a person I truly am. I realized in that moment that the man sitting near me is a man I’ve known my whole life; but he’s been nothing but a stranger. I realized that if he died tomorrow, even from suicide, it would not have a major impact on me. Sure, I would feel awful. No one deserves to die, no matter what the cause! And, no one deserves to feel alone. But, to me, it wouldn’t feel like a major loss. I can honestly say that it would hurt more if my dog died than if he passed away.

Four years ago, this was where my family found themselves; on suicide watch for my uncle. It’s awful to admit that someone who is supposed to be such a huge part of your life doesn’t matter to you. Writing those words, “It would hurt more if my dog died than if he passed away” makes me feel like a terrible person, but I know deep down that I’m being true to myself. Although, sometimes, we have to admit that even those people in our lives who are supposed to be family and the closest humans to us, mean zilch. That is why we all must create our own “families.” “Families” that are made up of blood relations, friends, acquaintances, dogs, cats, etc. “Plant your own seeds and grown your own garden because you have the power to choose who you become and who is allowed to influence you along the way.”

Granny Smith – over and out

Losing My Religion

I grew up with very Catholic grandparents and not so Catholic parents. When I was in elementary school, in an effort to make my grandparents happy, my parents sent me to Sunday school. There are only two memories I have of Sunday school. The first is that there was a lot of coloring, and you were given a piece of candy if you got a question about Jesus right. The second was the singing. At the end of every session, each grade would gather into the main hallway, and an old woman would sit in the middle with her guitar and make us sing songs about Jesus.

I didn’t understand anything that was happening, and I often asked my teachers for proof of the history of Jesus (artifacts, anything), so my parents promptly removed me from classes.

As I got older, my family and I started going to church less and less, and pretty soon, all I knew about being a Catholic was that Jesus rose from the dead on Easter and that his birthday is what we call, “Christmas.” As we were pulling away from God, I questioned everything spiritual more and more, year after year. Eventually, when I was nearing the end of high school and beginning college, I decided that I didn’t believe in the afterlife, heaven, hell, God, anything. I had no proof, therefore, it was not real.

I didn’t think about anything regarding religion until I watched an episode of “Long Island Medium” with Theresa Caputo. I had watched other mediums perform before like John Edward, Sylvia Browne, and James Van Praagh, but they were always positioned in front of a large audience, and everything about it seemed so staged. Theresa, on the other hand, was stopping people in grocery stores, doing private readings, going on cruises and reading groups, and walking in to someone’s home and reading a group of 10 people. She did it all. Every situation she was put in, she came out with a victory. How could you not believe her? But, I still wondered, was it a sham? Were these cameras set up? So, when she came out with her book, There’s More to Life Than This, I bought and read it. Then, my life changed forever.

I started believing again when I watched Theresa on TV, but her book really won me over. She talked about experiences that people have in their everyday lives that are signs from spirit, instances that you can’t write or verbally explain to anyone else. It was as though someone had gotten into my head and described everything I’ve never been able to tell anyone else in perfectly strung sentences. I finally felt normal.

In fact, so normal that I recently began working at a Christian college. Everyone that I work with is obviously religious, and they have been their whole lives…Unfortunately, this is where I fall short. I know hardly anything about being a Christian, and I can safely say that I’m not one. At least, not the type of Christian I’ve come in contact with. Yes, I like everyone that I work with. But, I also believe in gay marriage, the fact that homosexuality is not a sin, that swearing is a part of human nature, and being edgy is what makes you real. I love Lady Gaga! Of course, all of these things are generally not celebrated in Christian faith, and that is why I can’t be a true follower.

Theresa Caputo has stated multiple times that all too often individuals use religion to pull themselves apart from others or as an excuse to “hate” someone. When, really, we should be using religion to spread love, kindness, and compassion. They use God as a symbol of fear, instead of a symbol of understanding. Like the GOP, once Christians can wake up and modernize, then maybe I’ll jump on their bandwagon to Bethlehem. I’m not trying to say that all Christians are bad people, most of them are the most compassionate individuals I’ve ever met, but, it’s time to embrace the new world and remind ourselves that Jesus was friends with a prostitute. So, seriously, is being gay really that awful?

Granny Smith – over and out

The Perfect Company Does Exist

Because I’ve worked for three different companies within the last year, I’ve really started thinking about what my likes and dislikes are in the workplace. I tend to ask myself, what would I do if I could have things my way? What would I do if I ran my own company or was in charge of a large department? I definitely have a few “must haves” and “must not haves.” Below are my top five. What are yours?

1. Seriously, come in when you want: Some people prefer to start work early in the morning so they can get it done and over with. Other people function better later in the morning and would rather work into the evening (like myself). Saying that everyone has to show up at the exact same time is ludicrous. If I had it my way, I would offer a window. You can come in anytime between 7am-10am. I wish I could say that people could start work at 2pm, but, sometimes a little thing called “meetings” have to happen, or, you really need to get a hold of someone because there’s a crisis. What if there’s an emergency and they don’t come in until 2 and it’s 8am? What are you going to do? They could still be sleeping for all you know.
2. Along with that, leave when you need to: Granted, I wouldn’t appreciate it if someone only decided to work three hours a day every day, but don’t feel that you have to stay the full eight hours if you’ve finished everything that you can possibly finish for the day in seven and a half. And, if you need to take time for a doctor’s appointment, fine, c ya! Don’t worry about “making up the two hours you’ve missed” unless you are up against a deadline and feel you have to. The bottom line is, if you’ve finished your work to the best of your ability, it’s done correctly, and you can turn it in on time with full confidence, go home!The second part of this deals with vacation and sick time. I don’t feel right telling someone that they are only allowed to have 10 days off per year. What happens if you take a big trip across the country in March and use up seven of your 10 vacation days and then a close relative passes away in May? You might need more time to cope. But, you only have three vacation days left. You better hurry up and dry those tears?!…I don’t think so. Same goes for sick days. Is it my place to tell someone that they can only be sick for 3 days out of the year? How awful. When it comes to this policy, you would obviously have to state how important it is not to abuse it. But, giving generously can have great rewards.
3. No office gossip…ever: You’re here to work. One of my biggest pet peeves in the workplace is when coworkers openly talk about how much the dislike one of their other coworkers. You graduated high school years ago, stop acting like you’re still there. It’s petty, it’s annoying, and I’m starting to wonder what you say about me when I’m not around. Let’s get the job done so that we can go be with our friends and family…and THEN bitch.
4. Sure, wear jeans. Just don’t look like you’re going to a rugby match: One of the last places I worked at had a very relaxed dress code. I would see plenty of women come to work in flip flops, leggings, and a sweatshirt. No, I don’t think that wearing jeans and a sweatshirt is offensive, go ahead! I don’t mind flip flops in the summer either. But, for the love of God, leggings are NOT pants! This isn’t your home; you’re still in an office. Same goes for tank tops or anything that shows cleavage. Guys, don’t wear your pants below your butt so that everyone can see your boxers. You don’t have to dress up for me, just cover yourself…and leave the tights and form fitting clothes at home.
5. Be yourself: Sure, it’s hard to say exactly what you feel or be the truest form of yourself at the office. After all, there’s a little thing called “Human Resources” that can crack the whip if you get out of line. As long as you’re not sexually harassing anyone, seriously offending someone, or physically hurting them, calm down! Choose people to work for your organization who are most like you. You’re a lot more likely to have fun that way. Don’t be afraid to laugh, crack jokes, be sarcastic, etc. I think a lot of what holds people back is fear. They’re afraid to talk to their boss because they don’t want to offend, and they’re afraid to bring their idea up in a group discussion because they don’t want to look dumb. The list of fears could go on and on. I want to take the relaxed approach. I know what it’s like to be the “office idiot,” and I know what it’s like to have no one in the office understand your humor. So, hire those that do.

Granny Smith – over and out

I’m Poor

“I’m poor” is a phrase that I’ve been hearing a lot lately from friends, especially when I’m trying to plan a nice evening for us outside of our apartments. Every time I hear that phrase, I cringe and hold my tongue. For many individuals my age, it can seem like we have no money. Student loans, renting our first apartment, car insurance, renters insurance, pets, cell phone bills; it all escalates quickly. But, are we really “poor?”

Different images can pop into our minds when we think of the word “poor” or “rich.” When I think of “poor,” I think about a homeless person sitting on the side of the street, or a single parent who only works a few hours a week and is about to lose his or her house…and possibly their child(ren). When I think of poor, I don’t think of people in their early-mid twenties. Sure, we don’t have a lot, and we haven’t even started thinking about saving for retirement, but most of us have an amazing support system, like friends or family, or other financial resources (financial counselors) that can help push us in the right direction.

When I think of poor, I think of individuals whose family members left them to fend for themselves, put them into foster care, went to jail, died without saving a single penny to give to their children (who are already homeless with nothing), the list goes on. When I think of rich, sure I think about individuals that have mansions in California, nice cars, wear Gucci, etc. However, I also think of people who have enough money to pay for their own car, provide food for themselves (and possibly another family member), have a pet or multiple, go out to eat with friends, but most importantly, I think about myself. When I thought I had nothing, whenever I’ve felt like the world is falling apart around me, I have my family, friends, significant other, and my dog. I have a plan B; I have a backup system. This helps me know that even if I don’t have much in the end, everything will work out.

I used to be the type of person who took on everything, who thought she could figure it out on her own, who was afraid to ask for help, and who was used to having other adults “taking care of” it for her when it was physically apparent that she was struggling. Now, I’ve learned to say “no.” I’ve learned to ask for help directly and from multiple resources. I ask for help because I am rich. I am rich because I have a strong support system. I have a strong support system because I’m attracted to people who know what it means to care. I am not poor. I am the opposite of poor.

Granny Smith – over and out

Puppy Love

If you read my previous post, you know that I love dogs and work with a local rescue. Well, last week, a group of dogs from the south came up to the north with my rescue to find a better life. My family and I are fostering one of them. He’s a puppy…

The last time my family had a puppy was 13 years ago. And, needless to say, I don’t remember it being as hard/crazy as it is right now. In the time it took me to write this post, I had to reprimand him 7 times!

When our new friend came into our lives, I was excited. And, when they handed him to me and we locked eyes, my heart melted. However, there have been many trials and tribulations over the last week that have tested my patience and given me even more sympathy for new parents and puppy parents.

One of the first things that comes to mind when I think about raising our foster puppy is the fact that I’m ALWAYS thinking about him and wondering how he’s doing if I’m not around. When I’m at work, I’m almost happy that I get a break, but I worry that he’s getting into trouble, or that he’s sick, choking, something horrific! My mind never stops wandering with possibilities. At the same time, if I leave him with my parents, I feel a slight sense of guilt. I feel bad that I’m off at work or anywhere else but home…where I feel like I should be 24/7.

Another thing that I’ve noticed while having a puppy around is that I can be completely disappointed in him when he shits in his cage, whines from a lack of attention, or barks like crazy, yet, I’m still so in love with him. My mind knows that he’s making bad choices, and I know that I need to discipline him for that, but I also want to give him a big kiss and scoop him up in my arms.

The third item that’s come to my attention is that I feel the need to reprioritize my days…if not my life. Having him around makes me focus on what REALLY needs to get done and what can wait until later. At first, I was spending way too much time with him and blowing off emails, job searching, and more. Now, I’ve finally figured out a schedule so that I can effectively train him, yet get my work done! I’ve noticed that over the last week I’ve spent very little time on Facebook, and generally surfing the web, and more time focusing on what really matters. If anything, our new friend makes me realize how much time I’ve been wasting in a given week!

Another major item that’s come up while the puppy has been with us is paying attention to our other dog. My dog is 13 years old, and I feel like I’ve been neglecting him this past week. Yes, I’m still feeding him, taking him outside, and giving him attention at the end of the day. But, so much of my day is spent in the same room as the puppy, for training and development purposes, that I feel like I’ve just let my dog fend for himself. I can see that he’s upset and even a bit hurt when my family and I are playing with the puppy in another room and my dog just gets to sit and watch. Unfortunately, we had to separate them because my older dog almost bit the puppy the other day…yeah, not fun.

I believe the last thing that’s really struck a chord with me is that I’m going to be so happy when the puppy finally finds his forever home, but I’m going to be crushed when he leaves. He’s bonded so well with every member of my extended family, and he’s working so hard to please everyone. Once he’s gone, I know things will be able to go back to normal, and normal will seem like a vacation, but when someone or something is a huge part of your life for any amount of time, there’s a bit of sadness that comes with letting it go.

What are your stories with raising your dogs, cats, kids? Are they anything like mine?

Granny Smith – over and out

A Different Kind of ‘I Miss You’

This past week, my boyfriend Matt embarked on a journey to Hong Kong for business. I missed him A LOT, but I didn’t realize how the ‘art of missing someone’ can have many different layers.

In general, Matt and I live about 45 minutes from each other and see one another once or twice a week (depending on our schedules). When he’s not around during the week, I miss him and wonder how he’s doing and what he’s been up to. But, when he traveled to the other side of the world, I missed him in a different sense of the word.

When Matt’s 45 minutes away, we have email, text, phone calls, you name it, to help keep us connected. When he was overseas, his phone didn’t work and the only form of communication we had was with Facebook. And, seeing as how Hong Kong is 13 hours ahead of our time zone, our communication consisted of shooting a message to each other every day for the other to read during their free time.

It was hard knowing that I couldn’t pick up the phone and text, “what are you up to?” and get an instant response, let alone any response. It was especially hard if I had a bad day or wanted some advice and realized I couldn’t reach out. I was lucky that he was able to use Facebook to connect. I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to hear from him at all during the trip and was going to have to sit at home twiddling my thumbs until he made it home.

Needless to say when he came back, I felt a huge sense of relief. I felt a burden of worry lifted off of my shoulders, and I couldn’t wait to hear about his trip and wrap my arms around him. Knowing that he’s safe and home makes me feel amazing.

This instance also made me think about what family members of individuals in the army go through every year. I can’t even begin to imagine what it’s like waking up every morning knowing that your loved one is on the other side of the world facing potential danger and that you might not see them again. I give a lot of credit to those families and thank every member or our armed forces. I went a week without much contact with my significant other, I can’t imagine going for a year (or multiple years) and having the threat of danger weighing over the situation.

In what other ways have you missed someone?

Granny Smith – over and out

Text, Call, FREAK OUT, Repeat

I’m a worrier by nature. And every time I worry about something, I think of the worst case scenario, and then I start to believe that that’s actually going to happen.

For example, about a week ago, I made plans with my boyfriend, Matt, and a few friends to go to the beach. I told Matt the previous day (via text) that we were all going to meet up at the beach at 1, but that I would stop by his place first to drop off my stuff. That morning came, and I decided to call Matt at 10:30 to let him know when I would be leaving…no answer. At this point, I was fine, he’d probably call me back within an hour. An hour later, no call from Matt, so I called him back…no answer. Finally, it was 12:30. Still not having heard from him, I called again. Nothing! By this point, I was starting to freak out a little because he hadn’t responded the previous day when I texted him our plans…so, that meant I hadn’t heard anything in 24 hours. Who knows what could’ve happened in 24 hours time? My head was racing. Did he even make it home last night? What if someone high jacked his car? What if someone came into his place of work with a gun and everyone at his office was waiting for a hero?

I did the next logical thing and packed my bags and jumped in my car on a quest to find him. I couldn’t help it. Matt is usually really great a communicating with me, so I felt funky when he hadn’t even texted me back. I searched the area around his apartment and couldn’t find him or his car. So, he’s somewhere with his car or someone stole his car and he’s wandering hopelessly on the street, was my thought. Then, I checked the beach, thinking that maybe he’d lost his phone and was waiting for us there. There were so many cars and people as there happened to be multiple festivals going on near the lakefront that day…just my luck. After spending what seemed like years in traffic, I headed to one of his friend’s homes, nope, not there. Then, I texted a few of his other friends, no one had heard from him. I stopped at the mall, and lastly, his office. Nothing. It was almost 4pm.

I called my father and told him that I couldn’t find Matt. I stated that I was coming home and we were going to have to call the police, his parents, or form a search party…something, anything to make sure there wasn’t another wasted second that went by without having others know of his absence. As I drove home, I started crying my eyes out and I screamed at God, “Please let me find him!! He’s my everything! You might as well take me too! Where did you hide him? Why are you doing this? This isn’t ok.” Then, I began to think of what my life would become once he’d been pronounced dead, what I would say at his funeral; and I asked myself how I would feel if we never found the body. Would I be able to move on? No, probably never. Yes, I would take the oath to never date again and live the rest of my life as a spinster. Hell, my grandmother was a widow for 40 plus years before she died and she never dated, remarried, or showed interest in anyone after my grandfather passed away. If she could do it, so can I.

Then, the call came through. It was Matt’s face that showed up on my phone. But, I didn’t even rejoice at first. I thought, what if it’s the police calling to tell me they found him dead, or that he’s at the hospital and probably won’t make it? I picked up the phone and screamed, “HELLO?”

“Hi, what’s going on?” the other end answered back. It was Matt, he was alive…for now!

“WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN? WHERE ARE YOU NOW? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?…” I went off. I’ve known Matt for almost 9 years now, and in all of those years I’ve NEVER, NOT ONCE, yelled at him. Unfortunately, that streak has been broken.

In the end, I went back to Matt’s apartment and we talked it over, but sweet Jesus did he scare me. It turns out that he was participating in one of his weekly activities, sailing down at the yacht club. He left his phone in one of the club’s lockers, thinking he would be back by noon. As it turns out, that wasn’t the case.

I spent the next few hours being as close to him as I could, hugging him, smelling him, cuddling with him. Good God, if you don’t know if you love someone, try thinking about what your life would be like without them, then you’ll know if you want them to stick around. It sounds stupid, but I realized that losing him would mean losing myself.

I also learned a few other things during that crazy day:
-Communication is so important, especially when you’re in a relationship: Terrible communication has got to be my number one pet peeve…and it’s probably why so many people piss me off! If you have plans and forget, that’s one thing, but if you deliberately ignore people because “you don’t feel like it,” then we can’t be friends anymore. I have a friend who gets invited to many things and just doesn’t respond. She figures, if she’s available that day, she’ll come, if she can’t, whatever. I’m sorry honey, but with that attitude, I can’t invite you to a big event… like my wedding. I understand if it’s just a bonfire where you don’t really need to RSVP, but if you NEVER respond to ANY event and you still won’t respond when people personally text you and ask, “hey, you comin?” Inappropriate. People have actually stopped inviting her to things because of her attitude. Be polite and at least give someone some sort of a response. Even if you don’t know right then, say it. Don’t make people assume! In the working world, shit like that doesn’t fly, and it shouldn’t in real life either.

-Worrying is interest paid on something that hasn’t happened: My dad literally says this to me all the time, but I don’t listen because it’s a part of my personality to freak out over just about everything. This is the part of me that I can’t stand. I work at a radio station part-time, and if you’ve ever worked in broadcast media, you know that those guys and gals are some of the calmest people on the planet. They have to be! There are hundreds of factors that can make everything NOT go as planned, and you have to have a plan B while being calm about it. You just need to take things one week at a time, one day at a time, and then one moment at a time. And just remember, if there is a lack of preparation on someone else’s behalf, then there should not be any case of urgency on yours. Try your best to live in the moment, sniff out danger, but it is OK to let some things fall by the wayside.

What about you? Are you a worrier? How do you deal with your worries?

Granny Smith – over and out

Missed Connections

You’re probably thinking this post is going to be about a funny ad on Craigslist or a lovely dovey shoulda coulda woulda story, right? Wrong! Gotcha! This post is actually about losing the Internet connection in your house.

Long story short, last week there was a crazy storm in our neighborhood and my parent’s lost the Internet connection in their house. And, since my parents don’t believe in cable or smart phones, and don’t have AT&T or Charter, they’re left to rely on a dinky ma and pa computer place to supply their Internet. So, the next morning when we called the company to ask them what was wrong, we found out that lightening had apparently struck a service tower, and it was too windy outside for someone to safely climb up the tower to fix the problem….grrrreat.

Now, me being me, I’d like to think that the Internet doesn’t rule my life…at least not to the extent that it does some of my other friends. In fact, I’m really not a big technology person in general. Sure, I use the computer to surf the Internet and I work a bit with Word and Excel, but as a millennial, most people my age think there’s something seriously wrong with me because I don’t have a smart phone and I’ve never touched an Ipod. Do I resent technology? Not really, but I’ve seen what it can do to a person!

But, the Internet at my parent’s house was out for 3 WHOLE DAYS!! I had to resort to taking my laptop to the library to get work done, and when I came home, I tried to leave and find other activities to fill my time as soon as possible. But, even when I wasn’t in the house, I found myself thinking about how many new emails I had, or who had new updates for me on Facebook. I think that because I’m a job seeker, I’ve become more attached to my email and personal websites. I don’t want to miss a posting, and I certainly want to respond to a potential employer sooner rather than later!

Times like this make me think back to the 90s, before the Internet, instant messaging, and so on was really a big deal. It’s hard to imagine what I did during the day to fill my free time, but I think I need to start writing some ideas down in case a situation like this happens again!… Ok, even reading that last sentence made me cringe. Really? The Internet has become so important to me that I need to make a list of things to resort to in case I lose my connection? Ugh!

So, I guess one of my resolutions this year is to make certain that I pull myself away from the Internet more often every day, and not become so flustered if someone tries to get a hold of me and they can’t because I’ve lost my connection. I think that at this day and age, it’s important for all of us to leave the Internet alone when we have some free time and try to resort back to what we did pre-Internet days in order to help us all stay active. I mean, you can be connected without an Internet connection, right? It’s called talking to people!! Most of the best days that I’ve ever had in my life happened in the 90s and when I’ve been out and about doing things with people. Sure, Internet time can be a great way to wind down, but do we really need to be buried in it during our free time?

What’s your stance? How has the Internet changed your life? Am I crazy for wanting to disconnect more often?

Granny Smith – over and out

You’re Fired!

Alright ladies and gentlemen, here’s the deal…I’ve been canned…and I’ve never been felt this confused, happy, and frustrated all at once…It kindof feels like someone just broke up with me.

Below is a description of what went down, and I hope you can learn from my mistakes…

On Monday, I was called into the CEO’s office and let go. He basically told me that I wasn’t good enough at what I was hired to do. But, “don’t worry!” he exclaimed, “you’re talented in many other areas, and this is going to be the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

Truth be told, I love my former CEO. He’s the greatest man anyone could ask to work for. But, the company culture was a TERRIBLE fit…and I knew it was a terrible fit even before I started working there.

Here’s the deal, folks…when I interviewed for my “previous” position, I couldn’t stand the woman that was my “supervisor to be.” Rule #1: If you can’t stand them in the interview, you probably shouldn’t take the job. But I thought, what the hell? I probably won’t have to work that closely with her…Seriously, what was I thinking? Of course I’m going to have to work closely with her! She’s my SUPERVISOR!!! YOU IDIOT!!!!!!!!!!

But, I digress. I was with my previous employer for 6 months, and each week got a bit worse. I hated my boss from the start, but as time went on, I began to hate the colleague that I worked the most with. I hated the company’s processes, I didn’t really care about the work that I was doing because I hated the industry, and I hated the company’s weird rules and regulations. Rule #2: All of the issues that I just mentioned are GREAT reasons not to stick with a position…or, they’re great reasons to try and put a positive spin on your situation if you just don’t have a choice.

For me, there was no “putting a positive spin on my situation.” I came home every night miserable. I would hear the alarm go off every morning, give myself a pep talk, and then walk into the office only to be beaten down by my boss and a few of the individuals I worked closely with. Most of the time, I ended up bringing work home with me in the evenings and only pausing to have something to eat. I was getting very little sleep, and some weeks I didn’t even have enough energy to shower. The truth is, there was no turning this train around. Each week, I cared less and less and wished so badly that someone would just see that I was trying so hard and help me. I thought that asking for less work would be inconsiderate as my counterpart was already doing most of it, and it is what I was hired to do…so I kept being miserable. My boss could see my misery, I saw it, and my colleagues saw it, so it was time to go.

Am I upset that I wasn’t given more time to truly find my place within the company? Sure! But, I already hated my life so much that I decided this is probably for the best, and I need to continue my job search.

In a world where so many people are struggling to find jobs, let alone jobs that they actually like, it’s important to apply, apply, apply, but also take the time to find a position that you can really see yourself thriving in. To be perfectly honest, my position got me so wound up that I was lashing out at friends and family, quickly losing self confidence, and at times, I even thought that not waking up the next morning would be better than living.

No one should ever have to feel this way. So please!!!! Learn from me and work hard to find a position you love!

And, if you know of someone who’s hiring, feel free to pass their information my way! 😉

Granny Smith – over and out