Tiny dogs have tiny bladders. As a human, if you love to sleep or need 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep, owning a dog without access to a doggy door is not a lifestyle choice you want to make. This was something my mother failed to tell me. It was not something I was taught in school (although quadratics came in quite handy the other day…go figure.) Further, this is not something on a list of life skills I was given in any psychology class I ever took in college.
As a parent of four fur babies, all under fifteen pounds, even heavy sleep is something only dreams are made of. (See what I did there?) This being our life, I have found the youngest gets creative on nights I am especially tired.
As I work from home, I try to make healthy choices and, instead of eating chocolate, cookies, or cakes for my mid morning snack, I have got into the habit of having either a fiber bar or a genial bar of some kind. My morning snack is always consumed while I work and ultimately, the wrapper ends up in my tiny office trash can. I would like to think that Team Snoopervisor and I have an understanding that the trash cans are off limits. As of late, it is apparent there was an executive meeting I was not invited to.
You see, Courage is the biggest of the lot and he has a reach that includes the kitchen trash can. I think the Team also knows he has the puppy eyes that make me melt and he is often the one sent to forage the wonders of the garbage containers in the kitchen, bathroom, and my office.
I assume he tried to wake me up for the midnight potty run with a nose boop and it didn’t work. In my half asleep state, I remember seeing him walk into my office. I thought nothing of it as that is a sleeping place for him sometimes. A few minutes later, I heard what could only be described as infuriating.
While not the first time, I came to realize that it trash forage missions are not only to find the goods. Apparently there are uses for the plethora of things to be found therein. Courage had went and gingerly plucked a granola bar wrapper out of the office trash and calculatingly lay just beyond my reach and began to chew the crunchy wrapper. What’s worse?
He did it while watching me.
This smart azz knew, without a doubt that I would get up to stop the noise. I open my eyes, give him “the look” to no avail and swung my legs out of my sleeping place to get up. Oh, but it does not end there, folks. Oh no! What does Courage do? The minute I am vertical, he drops the wrapper, a foot further away from me than where he was, and walks nonchalantly into the kitchen.
Cue the rest of the Snoopervisors to follow him to the door to be let out.
All I could do was stand there for a moment. I had so many emotions running through my body in that moment. I was pissed for having to getup. I was aggravated for having to pick up the wrapper. (Courage is so smart, his little fuzzy butt could have put the dayum wrapper in the kitchen garbage on his way. I mean he walked past it on the way to the door!) I was also amazed at the epic thing that just happened to me. I was in awe and still half asleep.
Sometimes I expect Courage to break out a top hat and cane for a song and dance number like Michigan J. Frog. (Yeah, showing my age, aren’t I?)
Reluctantly, mumbling, and whisperingly, I let them out for the midnight potty run. My noon snack turned into a midnight snack of intelligence. A reminder that our fur babies know more than we give them credit for.
What do YOU think?
I find it interesting to have epiphanies about things that have changed my line of thinking over the years. It has always bothered me to witness someone talking down to another person just trying to make a living. As a child, I often wondered why people did that. When we studied American slavery in elementary school, I remember thinking why did human beings treat other human beings in such awful ways? I never talked to my parents or family about those things. I observed and studied more than I asked questions when it came to people. Of course, I was curious about all kinds of things. I asked questions about things and how things worked. It was just people that I found I learned more by watching.
I don’t remember where or when, but at some point between the ages of seven and ten, I read a story where a father told his child to always remember the name of the janitor. To not only do that at school, but in life. Janitors are everywhere and they are an important part of living. Schools, apartment buildings, business offices, everywhere you go, there is always the person pushing around the cart or changing the trash. Their feelings and lives are just as important to the greater scheme of things as the CEO or Receptionist. After I read that story, I did just that.
My most memorable and favorite janitor has to be Ms. Georgia. She was the one at my first high school. She never seemed very friendly, but after I had asked her name and began saying hi to her when I seen her, she turned out to be a very sweet lady who loved her job and knew a lot of things. This stuck with me and I try to remind my kids to do the same.
Cal and I take this same token when it comes to cashiers. I mean, if someone is wearing a name tag, speak to them and use their name. You would be surprised the difference it makes. Today, for example, the Walmart cashier looked like she was a cardholder of the Slap a Bitch Quick club. Her name was Michelle. Now think about this. You will be standing in front of this cashier from 2-8 minutes depending on how much you are purchasing. I always greet the cashiers by name as soon as they start scanning my stuff. As soon as I stepped up and said “Good morning Michelle!” Her whole demeanor changed and she carried on small talk with me. I could never be a cashier by trade. However, some of these people like it and make a career of it. Don’t look down your nose at them or treat them bad. Their job is important. Further, there is absolutely no need to use these people as an example for your kids. It is downright cruel. Without these people, you would not have the convenience of shopping like you do.
Further, there is a way to tell your children that you don’t want them to grow up to be a stocker in a grocery store. Standing in front of the guy helping you find something in the pasta aisle at the grocery store and loudly telling your six year old “this is what happens when you don’t go to college” is not at all appropriate, respectful, or getting your point across. Do you know what you teach your kid in that moment? A lot more than “Go to college and make lots of money!” You are teaching them hate. You are teaching them disregard for humanity. You are teaching them that people are not important and, most of all, you are teaching them how to be an asshole…just like you. Nice. Plus one for the dumbass parenting skills there.
My point is, if the job was not necessary, it would not exist. The jobs are important. They enable you to live your life easier and they enable the cashiers, janitors, stickers, wait staff, and call center representatives to work. It gives those people a sense of stability, experience, and most often, livelihood for their families. Just because they are not from the gated community of millionaires like you does not discount their value or importance. If at all, if you have to look down upon them, they are richer than you will ever be.
I am not perfect. I still will be a nasty customer if I have to call customer service. However, I have worked in call centers and know these jobs are important. I will remember the name of the janitors and try to remember to call the cashiers by name. Besides, we see them more than just once. I will sometimes even choose a longer line because I see that miss Elsie is working today. It’s just respect and the fact that I do know their job is important. Not just in the scheme of things but to them too.
What do YOU think?
I went grocery shopping the other day. I am not homeless or poor. I am quite talented to be honest. I tetris’ed $200 worth of groceries into a wagon and pulled it the one mile trek home. No, I am not poor either. Know why I was walking? Because my family and I own two cars. No payments. Cal was at work and the other one is a project car. So it’s out of commission at the moment. So? I am not making payments on either one am I? No. I am not. You, on the other hand are paying damn near $400 a month for your car. Likely for the next 5-7 years. On top of having specific (expensive) insurance requirements; talk about ball and chain!
As I walk, I pull my iPhone out of my pocket to check the time. You are damn right I have an iPhone. Before you pass judgement, be awarded that while you forked out four digits for your iPhone 10 and probably have a plan with insurance that you pay dearly for every month…I don’t. You see, I have an iPhone 5s. All the bugs have been worked out and I paid less than 100 bucks. It is prepaid and I have unlimited data. Not that I need it because I work from home and use WiFi more than I do Data. Also, I pay a flat fee every six months for my cell phone service. So, once again Miss High and mighty, I own my phone. Hell, I even paid an extra five bucks to get product replacement/reimbursement if it breaks. No co pay for replacement. Just submit a claim. What? What do you say?? You pay monthly the same amount I pay every six months? I am so sorry. And you say you are better off than me? Hahahaha. I am sorry.
Everything inside our home is paid for. While you have your fancy furniture financed, it won’t last long. By the time you pay it off, you will be looking to finance some more. I may have had mine for a while and it may not be trendy but it is ours free and clear. Further, who gives a flying fur all that I live in “the hood.” Guess what? My house is paid for. We built this house and it is ours. So have fun you….in your credit card clothes that have put you in debt and your house with three mortgages. No wonder you have to work 60 hours a week and make 50,000 a year. I am just fine over here. I won’t be devastated if the stock market fails and I am not one lay off from losing everything I am MAKING PAYMENTS ON.
So before you pass judgement and look down your fake nose at me. Think about who literally has it all and who is working like a hamster in a wheel.
I am going to enjoy my walk. It’s good for the environment…my health…and I am not stuck in Facebook judging everyone without making sure my back yard is in order. Think about it.
What do YOU think?
This post is originally found on my work place’s FB page ans was initially written for there. However, it is my creation and I would like to share it with you!
Back in my lat teens and early 20’s I was a breakfast manager at a local fast food restaurant named Hardee’s. The hours were perfect: 3am-1pm. For me, it was an easy job and presented challenges as well. One such challenge was some of the people that worked the same shift I did. One was the hostess, she is a topic for another story. The other was this big ole German lady named Ingold.
Ingold was not by any means your normal person. To begin with, she had to warm up to you. It was not easy to gain her confidence in your abilities as either a manager or a co-worker. Also, she hated everyone. However, she was good at her job. Ingold only worked breakfast. When it was time to transition, she was out the door. She was a good worker but you had to get her on your side to work for you. You see, Ingold liked to be prompt and start things on time. While the manager was technically not supposed to start or arrive to open the doors until at least 3:45 am, if you showed up at any point after 3:00 am, you were certain to have a bad day. Showing up late made Ingold grouchy and boy…you never wanted that woman to be grouchy. (Grumpy doesn’t even come close to what this woman could be if she was…grouchy. Even Oscar the Grouch was mild compared to when this woman was on a roll. Ah, but I digress.) I liked to show up early just for her because I knew if she started her day off right, I would not have to worry about the kitchen because Miss Ingold handled things. Besides, at 4:01 am, the time the schedule says we are supposed to clock in, she would get in her car and go home. THAT, my friends, is a bad day. Without her, it was difficult at best.
Other workers knew that too. Because I worked hard to get Miss Ingold on my side, she eventually warmed up to me. I think there were a few mornings that I totally earned her respect. “Why? How?” You ask? Like this:
Ingold worked six days a week. The days I was blessed to have her on my shift, I knew I was going to have a good day. She kept that kitchen running and things were hardly ever late. I would giggle at her when there was a special request from a customer during the busy part of the morning because she would yell through the window at me “What the hell do they think this is Burger King? This is not have it your way!” Begrudgingly, she would make the special request anyway. If she was particularly chipper, she would offer to make your breakfast for you on your break and hook a sister up!
Anywhoo, back to the how and why. There were a few times I had overslept. Upon waking, the only thing I would think would be:
“Shit! Ingold is gonna be pissed!”
I would jump straight up, throw on my pants, button 4 of the 7 buttons on my shirt, grab my shoes, brush, toothbrush, toothpaste, and other “get ready” stuff and run to the car just so I could make it on time. One particular morning I got lots of laughter from her (which was rare) because I showed up at 3:05 am and had all my stuff randomly in my arms and was dropping and picking up things all the way from my car to the door. I was apologetic every step of the way. One sock on, one sock off, she actually told me not to worry that she was in a good mood because of me. This thoroughly confused me because in Ingold time, I was late. I think the that she seen that I was stressing out over her being grouchy more than I was at my appearance at Good God It’s Early in the morning. To be honest, I think that was the first time I did that. After that day, I think I had Miss Ingold on my side and we got along famously. Even when she was grouchy.
She was old then and this was in the mid 1990’s. I moved on and life went on but I thought of her often. I really liked that old Broad. I wonder what has become of her?
What do YOU think?
I have done tech support for a while now and it flabbergasts me to have people call in who like to THINK they know what they are doing. They start out by making it very clear that they have been working with technology since 1492 when Columbus sailed the ocean blue. They then go on to tell you they did your job for just as long and are now retired for sixty years. O.o
Ok, well, my brain says it is not sure how that can be since you are calling in, but ok, lets go ahead and fix whatever is ailing your technology today. MMMMkay?
Now, while you fight with me to verify that I have YOUR account and no one that belongs to someone else, you tell me that you have done everything under the sun and to the moon to fix it and you just know that I am not going to be able to help you.
So I advise you that I have to see what happens when you unplug the thing. Wait….is that silence I hear???? I listen as you drop the phone and move all the furniture in the room to pull the plug out of the back of the device and you come back and tell me the deed is done. While we wait for the technology to wake back up, you then tell me that you didn’t think to do THAT! Lo and behold the technology is alive! Were it self aware like in the Wil Smith movie iRobot, it would have told you that was all you had to do Mr. Smarty Apple.
You know, I have a ten year old that would have told him the same and he is a self aware human.
I wonder if the customer was self aware to know that everything else outside of simplicity was unnecessary. Replanting those trees away from the house may be something you regretted doing in your technology troubleshooting just to get the calculator to work my friend.
What do YOU think?
I have been working from home (off and on) since I was a teenager. This time around it has been solidly for 3 years. My kids, friends, and family now know the routine. DO NOT DISTURB WHEN WORKING. Sometimes, I can work with my office door open. While it does not happen often, I have to make it a point for them to understand when I am not to be disturbed. This was quite frustrating at first but I really did not have to make much effort after about the first month. It was vibrantly clear when mom was working and when she was not.
When this epiphany first happened, I noted that it started with baby who was then 4 years old. Only this time I was not really working. When I don’t work and I have to sit down at my desk for some tedious task, I unplug the headset and use the speakers. This particular day, I felt it too much of an effort and just put the headset on and began checking emails. My desk faces the door to my office so I can see when the dogs have to go. (Yes, they are trained to let me know quietly when they have to go instead of scratching frantically on the door.) I had left the door open and this was during the time which I often would work with the door open. (Gawd, I miss doing chat support.)
Lo and behold, here comes the four year old bopping around the corner to come and tell me some amazing story of some thing or another he just built with his stuffs in his room. He looks up at me as I sit and wait for him to open his mouth and spew out his musical little voice and he stops dead in his tracks. He stares at me for what I believed to be an eternity but my peripheral vision noted about 3 seconds (according to my work clock sitting on my desk.) He immediately about faced, and marched right back to the oblivion from whence he came. No noise, no speak, were I “on the phone” the caller would not have been the wiser.
I sat there slack jawed for another moment or two then lights began to go on in my brain. My children DO listen! They DO understand! Oh. My. Gawsh! I am utterly impressed. Fast forward to the fact that said child is now seven. He does fail to remember from time to time that when that door is closed, DO NOT BOTHER MOMMY. They simply have to pretend I am not there. Further, they still have to get along because I will become a fierce dragon should the living room turn into a UFC ring the moment their father steps outside for a moment. Ah, such it is that we are. Family. Yea, they know. Sometimes they need a gentle reminder so I have posted the picture on this blog on my door.
Those of you who know, we do not have a cat the first. Therefore, the names of the animals have been changed accordingly. Yes, Dogs. The constant through all of this? I am no longer facing the door but the dogs still let me know quietly they have to go. Snorting under the door works fine because if a customer ever hears it (not that they will, wonderful noise cancelling mike, sliced bread was the last greatest thing) I can always blame it on a sneeze. 🙂
Now I just have to figure out how to let the dogs know that putting their muddy paws on the window frame is not acceptable when I am working. I am certain the whole neighborhood knows where I spend most of my time as I often leave the dogs outside and they immediately come to my window to say hi. The upside to that? Who needs a mirror to smile in when the dogs are making you smile and sound (to the customer) like you are thrilled to have them yell at you for something that is probably their own fault.
Sometimes I work on Saturdays. Most Saturdays, our teenager has some sort of thing she has to rush off to and blesses us with the lack of her teenagery presence. Well, maybe not a blessing because she is our gurl and we miss her when she is not here. Just don’t miss that ‘tude so much.
At any rate. Working from home, WAH Professionals know it is not as easy as going into the other room and waking said teenager then coming back to your office and return to work. This is where I have to “call home” and make sure the teenager is up and getting ready so she wont be late to her activity. Anyone with teens knows for sure that if they miss something, no matter how trivial it is to YOU, tears will ensue.
So, here I sit tethered to my machine (work has a strict rule that thou shalt be ball and chained to your computer as wireless anything is a big NO NO) trying to get her attention. She is only 2 rooms away and I know she has to be out the door by half the hour to arrive on time. Texting, texting, texting….no reply. Hrmmmm. It is slow. Maybe I can sneak in an actual call to her without a call coming in from work. Calling……..no answer. Figures, the teen keeps her phone on silent and unless she is looking at the physical phone itself, she is not going to see the thing blinking like a fire truck blaring down the street. Ugh! Time to call the house. Never mind I get lots of flashy lights and notifications in my office when the house phone rings and it annoys me greatly but here we go…..RING (as I hear it through the walls) RING…. RING…..
Sleepily, a voice answers. Ah, yes. Just the voice I am painfully searching for. “Are you up m’dear? Get up Daddy so you can go, go, go!!!” She replies with an “OK Mom. Love ya.” Of course the teenager only says that because she is still SLEEPY! But hey, it works. I accomplished getting them up and running from the comfort of my floppy bunny slippers.
What do YOU think?
Disclaimer: Author has several blog outlets and pages. This entry is reprinted on those for high level access.