My Dearest Dahlin',
The story lately seems to be about finally finding my groove. Work has certainly had its challenges, but after a pretty bad run of incidents, we are now on Day 20 without one. TWENTY DAYS! Considering where we were a few weeks ago, that's HUGE. I'm relieved, proud, and cautiously optimistic all at the same time. We're about halfway through this project now, and it finally feels like we're getting things right. Matt has been staying onsite while we get everything ironed out, we've brought in a third-party safety consultant, and another Safety Attendant came over from a different project to help us out. He's funny and has a laugh that sounds just like Eddie Murphy, so at least there's some entertainment in the office. I'm still technically Safety Support/Admin, but since Shawn, Cody, and Justin are all gone, I've picked up quite a few more responsibilities. I'm handling PPE now, tracking it, ordering supplies, fitting the guys for harnesses, and whatever else seems to land on my desk. Matt has been trying to fill the Site Safety Manager position, and one day I impulsively threw out, "Hey, why don't you just train ME?" I was half joking, but only half. The climbing would be the biggest obstacle because these knees are still giving me fits. I've been working out, though, and the pain seems to be getting more isolated to the quad attachments right above my knees, so maybe there's hope for me yet.
Of course, finding my groove apparently does NOT mean I've completely figured out how to behave professionally. One of my coworkers recently celebrated a sobriety anniversary at work, so there was cake for everyone. Matt got himself a piece and apparently enjoyed it so much that he ended up with frosting on his face. I noticed it, immediately went into Momma Mode and said, "Look at me." Then, without one single thought passing through my brain first, I LICKED MY THUMB AND WIPED THE FROSTING OFF MY BOSS'S FACE! Charlie!!! The man actually leaned into it like this was a perfectly normal occurrence, which made me think his wife probably does the same thing. And somehow that made the whole thing even MORE awkward once my brain caught up with what my thumb had already done. I was horrified. Thankfully, Matt was a good sport about it. Apparently I need to add "respect other people's personal boundaries" to my own personal safety observations. After all those years of wiping stuff off kids' faces, I guess some habits die hard.
The weekends are still my time to wander, and I've managed to squeeze in a couple more adventures. One weekend I went down to Eternal Flame Falls, where there's a natural gas seep behind the waterfall that keeps a little flame burning. Sometimes the water puts it out and visitors relight it. The hike reminded me a lot of the waterfalls at Tunica Hills back home, and my legs reminded me of it for several days afterward. The following weekend I decided to hop across the border into Canada and chase ten waterfalls in one day. The first one was pretty much a dud—barely a trickle—but the others ranged from "Well, there's some water" to absolutely roaring. Most were fairly close to the road, although a couple required a little navigating. At that very first waterfall, I noticed a sturdy walking stick leaning against one of the information posts. I picked it up, tested it, and decided the Lord had left it there for me. That stick stayed with me for the entire day, and I honestly think it made a huge difference with my knees. It's still riding around in the backseat of my car. Maybe somebody else left it there for the next hiker, but I prefer to think God knew this Louisiana woman was about to go chasing waterfalls through Canada and needed a little assistance.
Now I'm getting ready to head home for a week. I've got doctor appointments to take care of, a massage with my name on it, and this hair desperately needs some attention. I'm looking forward to seeing Dana and Melody, but I am NOT looking forward to that Louisiana heat. It's already beginning to feel a little like fall here in New York, and I've gotten rather spoiled by it. I'm also looking forward to sitting down at my piano. Other than plunking around on the one I found at that little town gazebo, I haven't touched a piano since I came to New York. That's strange when I think about how much of my life has been spent sitting at one. Financially, I'm still working those 12- and 14-hour days trying to stack some money and get these debts knocked out. I can finally see a little progress on some of them, although the IRS mess seems to be snowballing in the wrong direction. I've called and been bounced around to four different departments trying to get somebody to tell me what in the world is going on. I have another callback scheduled, so maybe I'll finally get some answers. And yes, Charlie, I have thought more than once lately, "I sure wish you had taken care of those taxes like you said you were going to." Just saying. I'm still hoping to get enough put away that I don't have to worry about money through the holidays, and I'm still praying that Barnhart decides to keep me permanently. They may not. But then again, I prayed for two years for the opportunity to get into Safety, and eventually that door opened. Hopefully I won't have to pray for another two years for the permanent job!
The funny thing is, now that everything is finally settling into place, I seem to be missing you more. Maybe that's exactly why. When I first got here, I was so busy trying to find somewhere to live, learn a new job, figure out these people, and simply keep my head above water that I didn't have much time to sit and think. Now I've found my groove. I hear the guys talking about their wives and families, and suddenly I feel that empty spot beside me again. I see something beautiful and wish I could send you the video. I find another waterfall and wonder what you'd think of it. I see a buffalo herd or a deer standing beside the road and want to send you a picture. Mostly, though, I just wish I could hear your voice. I imagine you'd say something sassy first, then tell me you wished you could be here with me... and knowing you, you'd probably follow that with something completely inappropriate that would make me roll my eyes and laugh. Lord, I miss that. I miss you. I don't know why it seems stronger lately, but it does. Maybe finding my groove has finally given me enough quiet to notice again that you aren't in it.
I love you, Dahlin'. Come see me in my dreams sometime.
Me
No comments:
Post a Comment