Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Day 7 - A New Week

I'm sitting in my office, no, not the grey box.  That box will be a distant memory in years to come, I'm thinking.  And perhaps even someday, I'll be able to tell old Boss stories and laugh at how crazy he seems in the rear view mirror.

But for today, I'm still angry, hurt, scared, and just trying to get through each day.  Last week seemed easy by comparison to this week.  Last week I was able to spend each day with a dozen small tasks, feeling like I was making headway.  But now a week later, it all crashes in on me every few hours or so.  Keeping busy certainly helps, but the days seem so long.  Talking to people helps, but most everyone just wants to talk about things that are going on, and that's just like wading back out into the muck and trying to find my way.  I come out with boots full of mud.

I've been working on a home office for years.  Literally years.  Fancied myself a spot where I could sit and write, maybe the next Great American Novel would suddenly come flying out of my fingers and on to the screen.   A place to curl up in a cozy chair and read a book.  I certainly have stacks of them around here waiting to be read.

For the near future, most writing will have to be here.  Venting actually.  Not the writing I intended.

But for now, no grey box for me (at the "Speedway" code name, I had grey walls, grey carpet, black desk and no window).  Here I have two windows and light and loved objects.  Surrounded by birds, both inside and and out.

And the chickadees showed up yesterday.

Thursday, March 12, 2015

Day 2 - Turning Right

This Tuesday seemed like every other day.

And then it wasn't.  By 5pm that day I no longer had a job.  Didn't see it coming.  Completely blind sided.  Completely.

Into the later hours that night I was in full panic mode.  Seemed unreal.  Frantic phone calls to family and close friends, and like me, everyone found it unbelievable. Sleep became literally impossible.  In spite of a double dose of Unisom and a melatonin tab for good measure, sleep evaded me all night. and all day the next day as well.

As the initial panic faded, I started taking defensive measures.  Cancelling services, cutting every expense I could think of.  That kept me busy.  Made some calls, set some appointments.  And finally, last night, I collapsed in exhaustion.  And slept all night.

But what happened all through the day yesterday, and again today.................were texts, emails, and phone calls from the people around me that care about me.  I only let a few people know, and yet that blossomed, and I've been contacted by at least a dozen different people.  Prayers, scriptures, lyrics from songs, tonight, a box full of "goodies" from a neighbor.  I'm frankly overwhelmed by it.  Humbled by it.  After 17 years of working somewhere, and giving everything I had to make that place work...........and so very very seldom feeling supported.............well, to feel this love and concern has brought me so much hope.

Turning right.

So I jumped in the car this morning to head out of my neighborhood, heading to see my parents, then to an appointment.

And as I left the neighborhood...........I turned right.

I always turn left to head to the office, but today I turned right.  The minute I did it, it felt so different, and I chuckled to myself.  It seemed symbolic that I was heading a different direction.

 I will probably never head to that building again.  And sit in my grey box, and endure the day.  Some days better than others, but almost always coming home full of stress, turning around and heading there again the next day.

Today I turned right.  I went a different direction.

Thursday, March 05, 2015

Pretty Pictures

Have always enjoyed great photography.  When you grow up in Colorado, it's easy to take for granted that just about everywhere you look, it's postcard material. But for many years now,  I've made it a point NOT to take it for granted.  And it's always seemed like everywhere I look, I see a picture.

I've hemmed and hawed about buying a good camera, since, well, the 80's??  Can it really be that long?  Yes.  But so many other things took precedence over that aspiration.  That hankering would hit the strongest when I was in the mountains.  And no photo I ever took looked like the one I saw in my mind's eye.

So last spring, I was sorely in need of doing something, anything,  for me.  For me.

I'd been relishing the photos of a blogger I'd found along the way, a fellow Colorado dweller.  You can take a look at his work, here...........Peenie Wallie Slideshows   I even emailed back and forth with Rob and got some tips on some small, point and shoot digital cameras that slacked my thirst for a few years.  But I knew what I really wanted was to understand the art and the science of photography.  To take the pictures I envisioned when I looked at something.

A conversation with a coworker led to making a purchase after finding out that a new Canon Digital SLR would take the zoom lenses my Dad bought for his Canon back in the 80's.  Never thought such a thing would work, but after my Dad's generous "donation" of the lenses and even camera bag.......I was finally in business.

So I've been snapping away, experimenting, and, thanks to the "magic" of everything being digital, deleting 90% of everything I shoot.  But I'm learning.  This week I finally took the next step and signed up for a class next month.  I've hit the proverbial wall at what I can learn on my own.  I need help from a pro.  After that, a PhotoShop class.

In the meanwhile, here's some of the shots I don't hate...........a few I even love.  Mostly taken outside Keystone. I was able to walk some paths and get those shots you can only get by yourself, laying on the ground, sitting on a rock and seeing what you see.

That last one is my favorite.  And the wallpaper on my work computer.  None of these are retouched or tweaked at all.  Don't really know how to do that yet.  Or at least do it well.

But I'm looking forward to the class, and to seeing how much I can improve my skills.  Been too long since that was a goal.


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