Giggling at Work; Men and Their Little Brains

My bosses, Donna and Nancy (and quite a few of the uniformed guys), at the PD think I'm just a little bit wacky, but they're enjoying the fun, nevertheless. And I've been having such fun the past few days, I've been walking around giggling in the halls.

We're finally moving a whole lot of people off of the first floor in the station so we can complete reconstruction of our building. MEN. Of course, they never asked us WOMEN -- who know how to be organized, and know what needs to be done -- how to do anything. We just have to clean up the mess they make. It wasn't too much problem moving people, desks, computers. But it's been a nightmare trying to move 30 years of case-related property that is evidence: it must be controlled tightly for chain-of-custody in court purposes. filing cabinets, boxes, bags, bikes, computers, tools, miscellaneous "stuff"; and then, of course, Valuables: drugs, money, jewelry.

There we were today, moving property in the rain and humidity: filing cabinets, boxes, bags, bikes, computers, tools, miscellaneous "stuff". And then, of course, Valuables: drugs, money, jewelry. Now June is the start of the rain and hurricane season in Florida; you think the guys would have thought about that first when asking us to move now! And we were trying to fit all this evidence into railroad cargo containers -- and coming up short because the MEN had not ordered enough of them (even though we had asked them to); and onto shelves that were being built by the MEN as we moved the evidence (because they wouldn't believe us when we told them several times in the last few months that we would need more shelves). Sheesh.

Anyway. I was trying to help this endeavor and designed a spreadsheet containing all our evidence (26,000 lines that I cleaned up to 856!) and several maps for our Property ladies to use in locating evidence while they are living in/working out of these lovely railroad cars for the next year. The map is so cool! I drew all these shelves, numbered all the evidence boxes, inserted drawings for all the bikes, computers, bags, and other stuff -- and then, tonight, inserted little pictures of women inside the railroad cars.

Silly stuff. Giggling at work. Got to do something when the men drive you crazy with their testosterone! But my bosses, Donna and Nancy, love it. And I know, one day, these same guys will be looking at my spreadsheet and map, saying, "We could have done it better." Because they're always thinking with their little brains.

En *courage* ment

It means so much. To have someone Encourage me. I had been unsuccessful in thinking of a good way to start my "E" week until I ran my second 5K race Sunday morning in nearby Central Park. I'm going to need 10 months of en-COURAGE-ment to meet my new goal. Disney Half Marathon, January 10, 2009, 6:00 a.m.

(What I'm really going to need is a kick in the ass to get out of bed at "0-dark:thirty" so that I can be on the race course! I am a NIGHT runner. Oh, wait. I will be running in the dark; I just won't go to bed on Friday night!)

Sunday, I ran the 5K for a great cause, "C.O.P.S." I pick my races carefully, and this one was appropriate since it benefited an organization that honors the fatal sacrifices made by cops and their families. Of course, I didn't get any encouragement from guys on the Plantation PD team; they were too much into competing with each other to even notice I was on the course. Sheesh.

But, rounding the last bend on the lake in Central Park, just before entering the track for a final lap, I was greeted by one lone woman, about my age, who was standing there clapping loudly and shouting out my race number, yelling, "Way to go 84. Looking good! Keep going." Her encouragement meant so much to me. I was still feeling pretty strong at that point and knew I would finish the race. Yet having someone acknowledge my efforts motivated me to run even harder. I finished the race at a pace that was 30 seconds faster per minute than my first 5K just three weeks ago; I did not get injured; and I ran the entire race. I'm proud. (Even came in ahead of some of the PD guys!)

There have been a lot of people in my life who have encouraged and motivated me. This month, especially, En *courage* ment seems to be a theme. A salute herewith to:

• Dr. Frank and his veterinary staff at 9 Lives Cat Hospital for saving and taking such good care of Pooper cat.
• All my on-line Weight Watchers forum friends on the "Been There, Done That" Maintenance Board. A wonderful sisterhood of women struggling with life, families, jobs, and (oh, yes!) weight issues.
• Donna and Nancy: two of the most inspirational, motivational, and genuinely KIND women I know; they are much more than my "bosses" - they are friends.
• Mom and Dad: who have encouraged me in EVERYTHING I do.
  
• Diane: My Amrit yoga teacher, who gently reminds me every week to "be in the moment" and just accept myself for who I am, with no criticism, no judgment (and who allows me to stand on my head in class whenever students are doing other things.)
• Gianni. Always Gianni. He constantly tells me that I am, "THE BEST PIP". But I can never hear it enough. I know that he'll be standing somewhere among the masses at the Finish Line in Epcot next January when I come across the line at Disney - especially since he'll be the one kicking my butt out of bed to be there. That is enough en-COURAGE-ment for me.
  

Doing. One More "D"

Doing.
Last night I wrote "as if I didn't have enough to do." And that I sometimes had regrets about retiring because "there's a lot of things I could still do."

I remember a time, not too long ago, when I wandered around the house during the day looking for things to do. I think it was probably bounce back from all those years of working 12 hour days (and nights). It's taken me five years since I moved from the ranks of "on duty" to "former"(once an Agent, always an Agent) to find a comfortable place where I simply enjoy doing anything I want. Or, lots of times, when I do nothing. Gianni has helped a lot with that. He's an expert at enjoying himself while doing nothing. That may sound harsh and critical: it's not. I admire him.

Recently, however, I've started agreeing with two of my other "former" friends, Nell and Peggy. There is SO MUCH TO DO these days that I can't find enough time to do it all. An abbreviated list:

TOP 10 THINGS TO DO TODAY:

1. Final edit of yesterday's post; witty repartee comment on my sister's blog (I love a competition!) and this post
2. Answer 6 emails (responding to 6 other TO DO things)
   
3. Breakfast, shower, and pack lunch
   
4. Stop at Starbucks for the usual iced triple grande coffee latte, non-fat, 2 Splendas.
5. PD work: Ah..... the TO DOs are endless. So many new projects, so little time: City Map address verifications; design forms in Adobe; verify criminal State Statute tables; maintain laptop inventory; encourage my boss to "de-stress"
6. Check in on-line with my Weight Watchers group, "Been There Done That," and give/receive motivation
   
7. Run an EASY 2 miles tonight (Sunday is my first 5K race in 5 years!)
8. Finish entering REEF surveys from Cozumel: I still have 4 to upload (and they're a month old!)
9. Watch season premiere of LOST: so excited about this one, I may have to enjoy a glass of champagne in front of the tube, with my feet up after my run, cat curled up on my lap, Gianni snoring on the couch beside me
10. Wake Gianni up from his yoga room stretching and nap and crawl into bed with the latest OPRAH before nodding off to sleep.
    

Chichen Itza

So many C's. So little time. Christmas. Cozumel. Chichen Itza. Claudia (I really owe her a long Chat!)

Where has this week gone?
One week ago today, Tracey, Alexander, Gianni and I were climbing all over the ruins, gazing into ceynotes, Jeep driving through the jungle, and eating grilled Mexican feasts in Tulum.

Today, I'm back to fighting ants, visiting my accountant, working on computer inventories, and (hopefully) running my 2.5 miles tonight. Love my new Audi - but I'm thinking that shifting gears a whole lot during the past few days aggravated a muscle I probably overused while running the other night. And then, of course, I had to do HOT Yoga last night. Which was actually pretty fun. I needed it - for a whole lot of reasons.

Primarily because I keep forgetting to stop and BREATHE. I feel "frantic". About my weight. About getting back into a 5K running schedule. About my yard and all the weeds and plants I need to prune because of the bad weather. About downloading all my dives in my computer. About editing and uploading all my photos from Cozumel (and Utila!) About all the new tasks I've been assigned at the PD. About all the ideas I have and paperwork I need to do for Kat Eyes. About trying to plan our next vacation -- and wondering if anyone really wants to go to St. Vincent; tired of trying to convince people to come along.

So much to do, now that I'm back at home. Must be this New Year thing, plus being away for the holiday. It is so easy to be right back there (at least in my head) --in Cozumel, playing with my friends and Gianni at Punta Sur. Enjoying a wonderful New Year's Eve dinner and Mexican fiesta.

I feel Sooooooo far behind. Cozumel was like living in another world. It was so peaceful and charming. I dream of having a second home there where family/friends can all gather and we can have fun exploring new things together. I love speaking Spanish. I love diving the Cozumel reefs and counting fish. I love the sunsets. I love the friendliness of the Mexican and Mayan people. I love the food - Oh, the margaritas! And the fresh fish. And salsa to die for.

Funny story. Last night in Cozumel we went to dinner at La Chosa and had wonderful chips in their special cheese salsa sauce. It's so special, I bought a bottle -- salsa sauce from La Chosa, NO label, stored in a recycled clear plastic water bottle. And, yup, managed to sneak it in my backpack, under my regulator, past 3 security (2 x-ray machines and a hand check) at the airport in Cozumel. So much for terrorists.

B-Bopping, Brooklyn, Broward and Bruce

Anyone reading this who hasn't heard about B-Bopping probably never lived in the midwest during the 1960s. I have so many grand memories of growing up in Brooklyn, Ohio, where I regularly B-bopped around town as a kid and teenager. Not that I'd ever go back there and live. For one, it's much too cold.

And, second, I'm persona non grata in town after my award dinner speech in 1998 to the community and Hall of Fame Committee for Brooklyn High School.

In hindsight, I will admit it was not very tactful of me to tell everyone that Brooklyn was dying. And that I would never return to see the tree they planted in my name. But I couldn't help but notice, when I gave my speech to the assembled masses of students earlier during the day, that the entire auditorium was "white bread." Just like it was from 1967 to 1971, when I went to school there. No African-Americans. No Hispanics. No Asians. Hello. No wonder the town has never developed. Hmmm. I wonder how my tree is doing?

But I digress. And that's a D. Two weeks from now.

So anyway. When I was still thinking Brooklyn was the entire world, I B-bopped around town or my neighborhood a lot. For us mid-westerners, B-bopping meant just cruising around, listening to oldies, surfer music or Motown on the radio, getting a suntan at the pool, hanging out and giggling with my girlfriends, and trying to be "cool". Whatever that meant in those days.

And today I was B-bopping around Broward County in my new Audi TT Roadster. With the top down, of course. Listening to an all-Bruce station on the Sirius radio.Trying to be cool as I remembered how to shift gears on the manual transmission. And figuring out what all the bells and whistles (and iPod connections, top down, airfoil up features) are all about. And then I B-bopped off to work, where we "Ladies of Records" giggled and enjoyed this funky Christmas party that was a lot of fun.

30 years later. Still B-bopping. That's me.

Competency

I am working with two of the nicest women it has ever been my pleasure to know, Donna and Nancy. I say "working with," rather than "working for," because we are peers -- even though (technically) they are my supervisors: Donna in the Records Division, Nancy in the I/T Division.

Nancy and I have been commiserating about incompetency for the last several weeks. One of our co-workers has simply NOT been doing his job, and now I am tasked with trying to recreate computer property inventories from non-existent paper records, antiquated spreadsheets, and totally bizarre notes. I'm driving myself crazy in my anal retentiveness to locate and identify every piece of property we have acquired. And, of course, now I have to discretely contact internal affairs because some of the property is "missing."

What has Nancy really distressed -- and me totally p.o.'d about -- is the government (or lack thereof) in Haiti. Poor Nancy has been trying to deal with the Embassy there. What a nightmare! I love to travel, and especially love the Caribbean, but you'll never see Haiti on my list of "places to see."


On the other hand, I've been enjoying lively email chats with Bill Tewes, the model picture of competency, and owner of Dive St. Vincent about a possible dive vacation in May 2008 with Gianni and friends to St. Vincent, including a return trip to Bequia -- which is on my MUST SEE places.

Yet sometimes I get tired of being so stinking competent. I have the best intentions; I try to think of everyone when making my choices; I encourage others to be part of my decisions. And then I ultimately make the decisions anyway. Distress and Disappointment.

Addictions Part II -- Multi-Tasking

Multi-tasking. Gianni hates it when I do it. But I simply can't do one thing at a time. Yoga asanas and meditation are about as close as I can get to being still. Yet, even then, my mind has a really hard time staying "in the moment."

This morning, for example. I was going to get up at 7:30, eat breakfast, go to yoga, and then off to the PD for more fun (??) with the police mapping/GIS system.

Instead, my PodAlarm didn't go off because I forgot to turn it on after my run last night. I overslept by an hour. Woke up and decided to go outside and pull down the Christmas lights to start think about decorating while eating breakfast. That resulted, of course, in trying to decide which wreaths/trees to put up and finding the lights; then examining them for missing/broken ones realizing everything needed freshening up. "Heck, I don't want to do this now. I need my breakfast."

SO ... let's cut down the bananas from the backyard tree so I can put them on my cereal. Right. The baby bananas are not ripe yet. BUT ... one of my bougainvillea trees is dead and needs to be dug up. It never really recovered from Hurricane Wilma damage, as you can see.

Of course, I have to be careful that I don't run into Ali Dasha, our local alligator, who loves to sun in the backyard. But he's not around. Just a bunch of egrets chomping down on the worms. So I start hacking away; cut down the bananas; trim off all the dead banana tree branches; then cut off all old bougainvillea limbs and dig out the roots.

Of course, now it's 10:30 and my yoga class has just started. I'm in the backyard full of sweat and dirt. And I still have not eaten breakfast. Multi-tasking. Sometimes it is NOT a good thing.