Breathe, Urs, Breathe

There was a time, not too long ago, where I would meditate twice a day. Once in the morning while waiting for my coffee to perk, and once in the evening before bedtime. My life was calm. I didn't get rattled very often. Stress was low. I handled things with ease. I was happy, pleasant, courteous and fair.

Now?

I have a client renting one of my locations for a commercial shoot.

She, apparently, is tightly wound and reactive. She jumped down my throat yesterday, freaking out about something that had an easy fix. I gave her options. She couldn't hear me in the mess she was in. The stress level was very high. She was freaking OUT. Anyway, to make a long story short, the issue was rectified (and I might add, the solution was one of the solutions I gave her that she was all NO NO NO, that WON'T do.), and all is good.

But I was rattled. Her freaking out on me really rattled my senses and made me second guess myself. Made me second guess the issue and our correspondence to date. Her freak out, I suppose, could have simply been a tactic to get what she wanted (I can't stand those type of people), but I don't think she's smart enough to use tactics. I think she was just being a bitch. (I rarely use that word, but this gal? Totally deserving of it.)

I had to go for a drive to calm down and try to get back in my body. I was second guessing my abilities to do my job for crying out loud. It's not her fault, she was just the actor in the play against the backdrop that is my life. That whole scene played out to show me where I'm wounded. Where I may be stuck, energetically. But wow, it was a pretty big scene.

So last night, after dinner at the in-laws, I decided that I would have a nice meditation before bed, and a nice meditation before work. Try to get back in the habit so I'm not thrown for a loop so often. So I can stay in my body and see clearly when these issues arise.

We got home and washed up. The Husband sat down to watch some movie on the telly and I put on my jammies, kissed him goodnight, walked in the room to meditate.

As soon as I was walking towards the bed, the thought completely left my mind and the normal bedtime habits crept in. Turn on Art Bell. Grab gardening mag. Lock cats out of room (one of them is very pesky and annoying at night) (Love her dearly, just not when she's eating my toes.). Fluff up pillow.

And so I did all that, shut off the light, and promptly fell asleep. Had wild dreams. Woke up. Forgot once again to meditate. Didn't even cross my mind.

And so driving in to work today, I was two streets away from my house and the first person flipped me off. About 20 seconds later, a second person flipped me off. And for nothing! I did not do anything! They're just road-ragers I guess. Construction going on. Pissed off miserable people.

And again, I was rattled.

Fuck. This is horrendous. I cannot go through life un-grounded and out of my body and second-guessing myself. It's dangerous. It's stressful.

Ommmmmm......

Urs.

Funny Tuesday

Funny, the President has insisted that I work with a few community people in bringing their events on site. I have to be pleasant, work closely with them, not charge them too much (well, not charge them at all), and pretty much listen to them whine and not know what they're doing.

The thing is,

I hate community events.

I hate whiners. I hate hearing people bicker over 500.00 200.00. If it's in the 10 thousands, let's talk. If it's in the hundrends, don't waste my fucking time.

Yet I have to grin and bear it.

God. Tedious. Awful. I'm used to dealing in the 400-500/600K range. Don't fucking bitch at me that it costs $100.00 to set up picnic tables.

Fuck off.

Funny, I thought I'd be delighted that we have a dishwasher in this new house. I am delighted. Just not so delighted to find out the hard way that certain items just don't survive going through the cycle. Really, just a few pieces of tupperware, my bbq tongs, a few nice non-sticks, easy things to pick up. Just annoying when you want to use them now only to remember they've bit the dust in last night's supper wash.

Anyhoo.

Much more important things to think about right now than broke non-profits and lost tupperware.... such as, am I pregnant? Will find out soon enough I suppose. Also, must fret about bathroom furniture seeing as we still have none. Not even a mirror for christ sake. But, The Husband is picking it all up tomorrow.

Now, if only he could stop the shower curtain from billowing.

Urs.

Playoff Fever

Seriously. Somebody please explain the physics behind this.

If it's on... I'll watch from the corner of my eye while in the midst of doing something else.

But tonight. Jeez. The Husband wasn't even home. He was with the boys watching on a big screen in some bar.

What do I do?

Get home from work. Crack a beer. Root through mail. Turn on the telly.

Officially glued to the game.

Outside for a smoke. 3rd period. 2:1. Peering through the screen door as to not miss a second.

Jesus Christ.

Global warming. The war in Iraq. Property tax hikes.

But all I care about is the semi-finals.

Urs.

What Odds?

So the cramping has stopped. I feel back to normal. Either I'm pregnant, or I'm not. Either way I'll find out in a few weeks. My next period is due May 1st. We'll see.

I had all these plans for today.

1. Clean bathroom.
2. Pot roast in slow cooker for dinner.
3. Watch Casino Royale.
4. Weed the vegetable garden.
5. Clean out the spare bedroom to fill it up again with storage items until the basement is finished.
6. Go to the garden centre to ask about moss killer and overseeding.
7. Prepare for a meeting tomorrow.
8. Prepare negotiations for another meeting tomorrow.

What I've managed to do? #'s 1 and 2.

I began #3 but the DVD wouldn't work for some reason.

#'s 4, 5 and 6 will have to wait until after supper this week.

#'s 7 and 8? Well, I'm better flying by the seat of my pants. That, and I really don't care to much about the outcome. Complacent, you ask?

Perhaps.

Urs.

Care to make a wager?

Bet you $100.00 right now that I'm pregnant.

It takes approximately 6-12 days for the fertilized egg to travel to the uterus, where it will then, hopefully, attached to the wall. Sometimes, with this, there is a bit of cramping and there may be spotting. That's what happened to me last time. It actually took 13 days to implant, and I did have the cramping and spotting. I thought my period was early, never dreamed I could have been pregnant.

So, it's day six right now. I have a bit of cramping.

I'm either pregnant, or completely obsessive.

Urs.

Come Again?

Just when you think you've totally fucked up, someone comes along and says,

"You were amazing".

Great.

I was this close to walking out. Seriously. This close. And then somebody had to come along and say how awesome I just was. How they wish they had the balls to stand up and not take the bull.

Shit.

Now I have to rethink everything.

Urs.

Hearing, not Listening

In a conference for the past couple of days. One more to go. Thought it was going well until the professor decides to chew me out. It wouldn't have been so bad if he had of just come right out and laid into me, but no, he chose to go about it passive-aggressively.

Either you're in or you're out. You go left or right. Things are right, or they're wrong. I can't stand people that do things half-assed.

Go big or Go home.

Urs.

Mr. Rogers

These are the people in your neighbourhood.

So, The Husband and I have recently moved into a wonderful old house we bought. Took possession March 9. Officially moved in March 27. Fast forward one week, it's Easter. 4-day weekend. Wee-Hoo.

Was outside doing the lawn, washing the deck, yada yada yada.

Met ALL the neighbours. Well, almost all. The ones whose homes back onto ours.

East of us is Shirley. About 75-80. Widowed. Has lived here since the early 50's. A lovely lovely lady. We chat over the fence quite often.

East of Shriley is Eda. Around the same age. No, perhaps early 70's. Widowed. Her MOM lives with her. How old is she, I wonder? Eda and her husband moved from Italy in 1949. The were one of the first people in the 'Hood. Not sure when her husband died.... but I can't get over the fact that her mom is still around. Gardening, walking around the neighbourhood - albeit, with a cane. She doesn't speak English, but she stops and chats nonetheless. (Kind of like my Lei Lei.... doesn't speak english either, but yatters away to me nonetheless. When the mood strikes her, that is.)

Eda saw me on my back patio and hailed me over with a wave. And proceeded to give me strawberry plants for my garden. Lovely woman. She's ALWAYS working in her garden. Just delightful.

Across the ally is Martin and Michelle. A chinese couple. No kids that I can see. Probably in their 40's (it is very hard to tell the age of Asian people... they look younger than they are. I'm speaking from my own personal experience, having married into an Asian family). I have not met Michelle, just Martin as we were both in our back yards doing work on the lawn. He apologized for the state of his fence (seeing as it's pretty much laying in the alley) and that he's not a messy or neglectful neighbour, just waiting for the insurance company to show up.

West of Martin and Michelle are the people I first met. Don't know their names yet, only wave from the patio so far and comment on the weather. They come and go ALOT. Seriously. Not sure what they do for a living, but they are always coming and going.

On the other side of me is a house under construction. Apparently, from speaking with yet another neighbour that lives a street up, it's been a work-in-progress for over a year. I finally met the owner, Steve, last week. Another chinese couple, not married. I thought perhaps he was in his 20's, but I think probably mid-30's. His girlfriend's name is Christine. They are putting up the fence because they have a dog. "He's friendly, really friendly, just a yappy doberman. And we need the fence to keep him away from other animals."

Great, I have two cats. Great, just great.

There are also woodpeckers, bald eagles, racoons and coyotes. Must keep my eye out for the coyotes... especially as one of my cats goes outdoors.

So, these are the people in my neighbourhood.

I wonder what they think of me as the only time they see me is when I'm having a ciggie and a beer on the patio.

PS: Two steps closer. And it was Fan-Tastic morning sex...

Urs.

One Step Closer

I'm one step closer today than I was yesterday.

To getting pregnant.

Today was/is the day. Am I crazy? Am I delusional? Am I getting my hopes up? Perhaps. Or perhaps I'm just thinking good thoughts. After all, you don't want to put out there what you don't want, but what you do want. So yes, today, the first day we've had sex in four months, is the day.

I looked back on the calendar to check out my last pregnancy. The one that ended in a miscarriage. The first day of the last period was the Tuesday. We conceived the next Saturday.

This time?

The first day of my last period was April 3, a Tuesday. We had sex thismorning, a Saturday. The same time-frame. Yes, yes, I know, it doesn't necessarily work that way. Yes, yes.

Positive thinking people.

Ask for what you want. Not what you don't want.

Of course, we're having sex two, three times a day. Everyday. From now on. Not leaving anything to chance. It may well be all about chance. Last time it was. It was a complete surprise. The Husband wanted to get pregnant. I didn't. And yet I did (side note: he got me at a moment of weakness when I was drunk and couldn't figure out the whole ovulation thing and I miscounted the dates...), and I was DELIGHTED when I saw those two pink stripes.

And so now I'm on a mission. We want to get pregnat right now.

I shall report back.

Urs.