The Return

This is the first day back to some semblance of normalcy for me since my emergency surgery that was supposed to keep me out of work and off my feet for about a week (a week and a half tops), but as we know nothing in life is guaranteed.

I felt great and was ready to get back to the A to Z Challenge, school work, and even work, which was my plan; but unfortunately my body had other plans for me. A few days after I was discharged complications set in and back to the doctor and hospital I went.  A fever, 101, low enough; but never looks good after you’ve had any type of medical procedure and a bit or rather a lot of vomiting and some other stuff I dare not mention here.

By the time I got to the doctors office my fever had climbed to 102.4 and the decision was made shortly there after for me to head to the hospital for some tests.  Go straight to the hospital do not pass go

Blessings

Day 2 of the Blogging A t0 Z Challenge is B = Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen.  Click HERE and HERE to learn how I came up with this.

For six years Judith has had a love/hate relationship with Thursday’s, but more specifically Thursday evenings.  She volunteers at the church where her father is a priest.

She hates it because it’s the day her dad’s church hosts the homeless and anyone else that needs a hot a meal, a shower, a warm bed, someone to talk, or a shoulder to cry on.  ”I hate seeing these men and women come in. It just breaks my heart,” Judith said.  ”And the children,” she said choking back tears.  This was her lament every Thursday evening for six years.

But she loves it because she know she’s doing something good.  She would say, “I love doing this because it’s God’s work, but I wish I could do more.”

She wants to build a housing complex for the homeless and the poor, so they don’t have to sleep on the street or even wonder where their next meal is coming from.  She wants a place where they can get skills training, education, and whatever else they need to survive on their own again.

One morning she made that her prayer and she prayed that prayer every morning for months.

Judith and her father walked to the church on Thursday’s.  It was an opportunity for them to catch up on the days events and prepare themselves for what was to come. “Daddy, that’s the perfect place for the complex,” she said pointing to a couple of abandoned apartment buildings.

“Yes, it is,” her father said smiling at her.  ”We’ll have to pray for this, too.”

She stopped in front of the gate surrounding the buildings, clasped her hands together, lifted her head toward the heavens and began to pray.  After her prayer, she and her father continued on to the church.  When they got there there was a man standing on the steps

A man met him on the steps.  ”Are you Father Crane?”

“Yes.  And who are you?”

“My name is Blair Owens.

“Oh my God,” Judith said.  ”He’s one of the richest men in the world.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you and what you do here and I had to stop by and see for myself.  I like what I see and I want you to have this,” he says handing a check to Father Crane.

“It’s blank.”

“Write it for whatever you want.”

“Daddy,” Judith says tugging on her father’s coat.  ”The apartment buildings.”

“What apartment buildings?” Blair asks.

“The abandoned ones on Tisdale,” Judith says.

“Why do you want those?” asks Blair.

“To help the homeless and poor get on their feet.”  She explains her idea to Blair and his smile gets wider and wider.

“That’s a fantastic idea.  I wish I thought of it,” he says.  ”They’re yours for $1.00.”

“What?” Judith says.

“For $1.00 they’re yours.  Do you have a $1.00?”

“Really? You’re not playing a joke?”

“Nope.  You can have them.”

Judith pinched herself to make sure that this was real and not a fantasy.  She looked up to the skies, opened her arms, and fell to her knees.  ”Thank you, God!” she said.  ”I always knew you would answer my prayer.  The prayer’s of these people.”

It’s been years now.  The apartments are refurbished and people have gotten skills that have helped them get back on their feet.  And now and then Judith asks, ” Is this real life or is this just a fantasy?”

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It’s True What They Say, “Misery Loves Company.”

Over the past couple of weeks, I have been creatively stumped.  I believe I have come to a bit of self discovery about why and having figured out at least a portion of it I hope to resolve it soon and move on.

I mentioned in an earlier post that I work with four of the unhappiest women over 50, I have ever worked with in my life.  I don’t talk about work outside of work and I don’t blog about it either and truth be told I don’t plan on starting now.  This will be the one and only post about work (unless of course I get a promotion).

I have internalized issues I don’t normally internalize nor usually care about. 

What does Spontaneous Mean?

What are you more comfortable with — routine and planning, or laissez-faire spontaneity?

Ha! It’s funny that this topic should come up because I was going to write a post about time today.

I don’t usually write about work just because when I leave work, I leave work at the office and the twain shall never meet outside of the hallowed office walls and halls.  I don’t friend people I work with on Facebook.  I don’t follow their Twitter feed.  I don’t go to birthday parties or happy hour — unless it’s company sponsored and even then I gag at the thought.  Don’t get me wrong, for the most part I really enjoy the folks I work with and my job.  It’s just after eight, nine, ten hours of day with you, I’d rather spend my winding down time without you.

So, back to the prompt at hand.  I just got a new

My Week Described through Song

This weeks WP Daily Post Prompt is:

Tell us how your week went by putting together a playlist of  five songs that represent it.

I start everyday with this song, which help some get in the right frame of mind to deal with whatever comes up.  “God is Good” by Regina Bell.

“Crazy” by Gnarles Barkley probably really sums up my week in a nutshell.  I believe I work with four of the unhappiest women in the world.  They are full of drama and literally will drive you mad, if you let them.  You know that old saying, ”Misery loves company.”  That’s them and they’re not happy unless you’re miserable too.  And let me tell you they do everything in their power to make you just as miserable as they are.

This is actually my favorite version, as it’s haunting and more serious than the uptempo one; which is more fun and puts a smile on your face.

I don’t know if this really describes how my week went, but it definitely describes how I felt at some point during the week — “Some Nights” by Fun

I Didn’t Choose These. My Brain Did.

This is actually a follow up to a previous post ‘Your Guess is as Good as Mine”, which was in response to a Daily Post prompt to write down the first thing you thought about that morning.

I woke up around 4:30 yesterday morning with an insatiable need to go to the bathroom and while I peed the McDonald’s “Fishy, Fishy” song made an unwelcome debut in my head. I was slightly offended by this invasion, since I don’t eat McDonald’s. I couldn’t help but laugh that this campy song would invade my head at such an incredibly inappropriate time.

Then after that randomness my head was flooded with more randomness — quotes from perhaps one of the best movies of all time — “The Princess Bride”.  Yep that’s right, “The Princess Frikin’ Bride”.

As you wish. . .

then there was . . .

You are the brute squad

and finally . . .

Hello.  My name is Inigo Montoya.  You killed my father.  Prepare to die.

So, I head back to bed with “Princess Bride” quotes swirling around in  my head and the McDonald’s “Fishy, Fishy” song as background music.  I tried desperately to go back to sleep since I had to be up in less than two hours, but the more I tried the more “Fishy, Fishy” bore itself into my head.

I tried my own version of replacement therapy.  Picked another song from my brain box — Adele’s “Rolling in the Deep”.

There’s a fire starting in my heart.

Fishy, Fishy

Reaching a fever pitch and it’s bringing me out the dark

Fishy, Fishy

“Damnit!” was just one of a few expletives I used in my futile attempt to get that infernal “Fishy, Fishy” song out of my head.

Needless to say, I never made it back to sleep.  I got up at 6 am and headed for the shower, and I’ll be damned there it was again.  I guess I should just embrace the “Fishy, Fishy” song.