Under the Blankets

I'm home from work. I have a bit of home-sick-from-work guilt. I am feverish and have cold symptoms. I keep dozing off and having dreams. Then I wake up and think the dreams are real. I want some ice cream. I don't want to go out and get it myself. Ice cream is cold, and my entire head is hot. I'm sure I'll live. May God use my aching head for the good of my prayer buddy and my relative X.

Here I am

I have all this love, desire, loyalty inside of me and no man to give it to. Sure, I have problems cooking, but overall I think I would make a great wife. Also, I just got a cute (if I may say so) new haircut. I have a young spirit and feel like a ripe piece of fruit. I'm sweet. Are there men out there who are turned on by a sweet disposition?

I'm not perfect of course,  but no one is. At least no one who walks this earth.

Shrill Like An Alarm Clock

1) My primary job at the job is answering the phone and questions from customers. Most of the customers are unhappy, ask questions I don't know the answer to, and are impatient. These customers are not the general public but from companies that do business with the company I work for. Anyway, many of the customers are females with shrill, snippy voices and attitudes. Plus they all talk so fast as if their phones will blow up sometime in the next five seconds if they don't end the call. I cannot listen, nor write so fast. All I can do is take their name, phone number, company, and their question. Then I have to hang up, do research, and call them back with an answer they probably won't like. I am really starting to dislike the female callers. 

If you are a woman calling me during the work day, speak nicely. Speak slowly and clearly and kindly. You didn't know everything when you started your job. I know you are a super special customer, but so are all the other super special customers. I know you don't like the policies, but I didn't make the policies. Remain calm. The business we're in is NOT life or death. It's important, sure, but remain calm. 

If you have to speak so quickly and anxiously because you have to go to the bathroom RIGHT NOW then go to the bathroom before calling.

Please stop sounding like a yappy little dog or an alarm clock. If your shoes are making you uptight then stop wearing shoes with pointy toes. No one can see your shoes while you're sitting behind a desk anyway. Maybe your underwear is creeping up on you, but that is not my problem.

You sound like snippy, stuck-up teen-age girls. I do NOT reward snippiness by moving your order to the front of the line. I tend to order or problems in which I received them. In other words, first come, first serve. Take note: you are not first. Be patient and wait your turn.

Remain calm and perhaps cut down on the coffee or coke. Chill. You are NOT calling 911. Even if you were, the dispatcher can't help you much if incoherent.

Some of you callers are on a witch hunt, looking for someone to blame. Do you want to spend your energy on looking for blame or on resolving the problem?

2) A shout-out to a certain male customer. I'm sorry everyone in the company bungled your order. It was a major screw-up then you discovered you ordered the wrong product to begin with. I actually prayed for you that something good and wonderful happens to you this weekend to wash away the problems of the work week. Thank you for not yelling at me or being rude to me despite all the problems you experienced with your order.

3) As far as praying for the customers in #1, I'm just praying for their voices to stop ringing in my ears.

Help me, Lord, to be polite and calm to all whom I do business with.

Bloggy Mood & Born Free

I'm in a bloggy mood tonight, so here's another post. Does anybody remember the movie Born Free? It was on television last night, so I watched some of it. As cute as those lion cubs were, I would not want them running around my house destroying things. Also, that song got stuck in my head. Thankfully, it's gone now.

Anybody else doing the rice bowl thing at your parish?

Are there always people selling things in the back of your church? Every Sunday somebody is selling tickets or items for a good cause. I'm getting tired of it. 

When you give your money for the Sunday collection, do you feel like you are giving money to God? I do not. I think I am part of the parish community, and it is my responsibility to help contribute to the payment of the electric bill.

I think part of the reason children fuss at church is because they can't see what is going on especially if they're sitting in the back. When everyone stands up, the kids just see people's butts. 

Why are people hesitant to sit in the front for Mass? Why are all those people standing in back (and sometimes in the hallway) when there are plenty of empty sits towards the front? Really, I've sat in front many times and no priest has ever thrown things at me or any other front row people. It's not like sitting in the front row at Sea World where you'll get splashed by Shamu. What are people afraid of? God can still see you if you're in the back. Also so can the priest because he's on a stage basically. What's the church term for stage?

Let's see, I already wrote about girl altar boys. Yes, I still think it's strange. Are there girl altar boys in other countries or just in wacky America?

I wonder if the Pope (past or present) ever thinks of American Catholics as his problem children.

I also think liturgical dancing as wacky. I do like drums and guitars at Mass. Am I modern or a traditionalist?

Because I am getting political material and calls from both Democratic and Republican candidates, I am also confused about my political identity. Ha!

When I was younger, people actually held their babies during Mass. Nowadays, people don't hold their babies. Instead they carry the babies in their car seats. Aren't those really heavy?

Remember the phrase Sunday best? Don't I sound old? How could I sound so old and feel so young? Why do we dress like slobs when we go to Mass? I secretly wish the pastor would write a letter in the bulletin about proper dress. I don't like dressing up much myself. Yes, I'm full of contradictions tonight.

It's in my best interest to go to bed now, so I will get a good night's sleep for work tomorrow. But I don't wanna go to bed. I want to stay up and have fun.  There's nothing fun going on in my apartment, believe me. If there were fun here, I'd be the first to know. No fun here. Move along.

Thanks for reading. Thrill me by leaving a comment. PLEASE! I'm begging. That's pathetic. Oh well.

A Perfect Lily - Prenatal Testing

Check out this blog http://babynumber10.blogspot.com/  also known as A Perfect Lily. I added a button (scroll down). The writer of this blog has been writing a very important series about pre-natal testing. Actually, if you're pro-life you really don't need to be convinced that every life is worth living.

Hey, if you have been encouraged to abort because your unborn baby (aka fetus) may have Down Syndrome then go to this blog.  Heck, if your baby may have Down Syndrome or some other "defect" then  go to this blog.

Or if you just think cute children are cute because they're cute, then go to that blog. Or if you wish you could just be a little person in a big family, go to that blog.

Patti, Lily's mom, also writes a lot and advocates for orphans on Reese's Rainbows. You may have guessed that Lily is Patti's 10th child. That is correct. Patti and her husband are expecting baby number 11.

Charity Auction, OLOG, & Misc.

Hello!

Ah, it feels good to be a working person. I wish I weren't a temp because it's nice, easy work and I get paid, so I would like it to be continued. I like this set-up! Okay, I know I am underemployed. I am just happy to be useful and get paid and be surrounded by reasonable people. Plus the executives treated us to a pizza lunch today.

Tomorrow I vote. Will that end the robot calls from campaigners? It's sad those are the only calls I get. I think I was less lonely when people actually called to talk to me instead of sending emails.

I stopped at the library on my way home and saw my friend and her husband cycling by on this warm, sunny day. Oh, I want someone to bike riding with or go for a walk with.

Yesterday I went to a church-related charity auction and luncheon. My complaint is that it started two and half hours before the lunch. I did not know lunch would be so late, so I ate no breakfast. I had to make small talk and eat fried appetizers for TWO and HALF HOURS.  Sorry, I forgot to offer up my hunger as a Lenten sacrifice.

No, I did not get any drinks from the cash bar. Nor did I bid on anything. There wasn't anything I wanted. My friend (not a close friend) I rode with bid on lots of stuff and ended up spending LOTS of money on some things she really didn't want. Yay for her for contributing to the cause, but the ticket price alone was expensive for me. I realize part of the ticket price went to pay for the chicken lunch, but it was a big donation in my checkbook. By her remarks I feel like I made some kind of charitable faux pas. Oh well. Obviously in this group, I was a pauper.

Oh, the phone is ringing. Could it be a friend or a robot? I will answer now.

- - - - -

It was a fundraising call for an organization I never heard of. I said I am unable to contribute right now. I am putting money in my cardboard rice bowl, which is more of a rice thing. What's that shape that is like a square, but the top is shorter than the bottom? Gosh, geometry was a LONG time ago. Anyway, there's nothing round about the cardboard rice bowl. It's not a rice cube, but close.

The powers that be in the U.K. are trying to outlaw Christians wearing crosses. In solidarity, I am wearing my gold Our Lady of Guadalupe medal. It's big and shiny and from Mexico It was a lot bigger when I was a little girl. I wore it ALL THE TIME when I was growing up. I mean I never took it off. Never, never. In childhood pictures the chain was so long, the medal hung down to my belly button area. I was probably born wearing it. No, not really. It's not something I remember receiving, just something that was as part of me as my birthmark is part of me. I even wore it in high school. It has teeth marks on the back of it because I use to chew on it. Maybe it served as a teething ring. I also attended a Catholic grade school for seven years, so a religious medal was no big deal.

Then I went to college and became friends with an angry feminist. Then I tried to be stylish.

These days when I wear it, I feel like I am making a statement.  Sometimes it's tucked into my blouse or shirt, and sometimes it's not. I want to wear it all the time now. I want it to become part of me again. I want to think I am under the protection of Our Lady of Guadalupe.

She is the patron saint of the Americas.

I also want to get rid of my stomachache. I think I ate too much pizza at lunch. I guess I got so excited it was my favorite and it was FREE. Prayer Buddy, this stomach ache is for you (in a Christian suffering kind of way, not that I wish you had a stomach ache.)


 Have a good week, my readers.

Sunday Post involving Dirty Water and Dangerous Chemicals

Mass was rather confusing today, and I was annoyed. I think it was the whole clock change situation. Really, Mass was Mass, and I need to own up to my inner crab and not blame the clock thing. Can we just stop fiddling with the clocks and daylight saving time?

Today we prayed for people who get sick from drinking contaminated water. There was a lady in the back of the church who was raising money to provide a well for poor people in a far away country. I notice a tie-in, kind of like product placement.

I have remained child-free thus far, but sometimes I feel like a parent to my elderly parent. Anybody out there have elders that need some care? This past week I dropped Dad off at his Knights of Columbus meeting. I felt like a mom dropping off her teen-ager at CCD. Luckily, he found a ride home because I think his meetings run late. Then today at the store, I had to walk him to the men's room and wait for him outside. I didn't want to lose him in the store again. He wanted a drink, so I had to take him to the coffee bar.  I'll let you know if I start carrying around little bags of Cheerios for him to snack on when we're out.

This morning when I was cooking my eggs, I noticed black flakes in my eggs. The flakes were not pepper. It was time to buy a new frying pan. I threw out my old frying pan with the eggs still in it. Ick.

Also today I tried a new art project involving dangerous chemicals. The project was a total failure, and I didn't even have fun. Enough with the toxic substances today. I am only doing art projects that are safe for children to do. I do not intend to kill myself through art.

Oh, if you don't know about Reese's Rainbow, check it out. At least pray for the orphans if you can't adopt them. Again, it really stinks that adoption costs so much money. If I were a better blogger, I'd provide a link.

Prayer Buddy, I'm praying for you!

Time for bed. Have a good week.

Job, Prayer, JRA, Congressman, Cactus, Traps

Every day I thank God for my temporary job under somewhat comfortable conditions. I got my first paycheck from the agency with deductions and everything. It was so exciting to see a deduction for FICA and all. Call me crazy in love with being employed for now. I am hoping this work assignment lasts for quite a while, but that means a slow and painful recovery for the woman I am filling in for. She is out for rotator cuff surgery. I don't want to be mean, but her being out for surgery is a gift of a job for me.

I continue to pray for both my prayer buddy and my relative X. I pray in what I call "free form," I just make up short prayers in my head as I go along.

Shoved to Them, I tried to leave some comments on your blog, but was stymied by those crazy words I couldn't read and retype. Anyway, this part is for you:
 Your son is quite the snake. I'm glad your daughter was finally able to see the expert of JRA. It's a bummer she has it. But now you can begin to manage it. I sure hope she is feeling relief and no longer is asking for a wheelchair.

Remember how we were urged to write to our representatives about the HHS mandate about contraception? My representative wrote a letter to our parish that started as "Dear Fellow Catholic." The pastor published this letter in our church bulletin. I don't want to see the letters from our politicians in the church bulletin. This politician sounded self-promoting even though he is Catholic and is against the mandate. No one said what to do when the congressional representative writes to us.

There are so many good causes that our Cardinal asks us to contribute to that I am getting dizzy. But then again, I have been dizzy since seeing that cow costume in church.

The Lenten decorations in front of the altar are rocks and cactuses (cacti?), so I was thinking this probably represented our Lenten journey through the desert. I thought of how pretty and freeing the desert is and how New Mexico isn't called the Land of Enchantment for nothing. Having desert plants in the desert can be very freeing (xeriscape) because you aren't struggling to water plants that aren't meant to live there. Also being in the desert, you don't have to worry about a lot of extraneous stuff.

As I was contemplating this, I notice that there were a pair of sandals among the decorations. I guess the decorations really do represent our Lenten journey. I wondered who owns the sandals. It's just a matter of time before they pull out the empty tomb decoration.

This week during the petitions we prayed for the good intentions of social workers. Not a bad thing to pray for. I wonder what profession we will pray for next week. No, we haven't prayed for Davy Jones or Whitney Houston. We have prayed for other dead celebs and notable people in the past.

A mom friend was talking about how her Catholic school is having the young ones make Leprechaun traps out of boxes. Trapping Leprechauns sound kind of mean even if they aren't real. They aren't real, right? Let's learn why Saint Patrick is really a saint and not a cause for drinking. I'm not a mom, but I sure have my opinions. Besides, what are the children suppose to do if they actually caught a leprechaun? Release them into the wild? Release them at the mall where it can be wild with roaming teen-agers? Put them in the dog crate?

Now I am just writing to avoid doing necessary housework.