Daily Post

Daily Post (Turn The Table)

Prompt:   Someone’s left you a voicemail message, but all you can make out are the last words: “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you months ago. Bye.” Who is it from, and what is this about?

You had finally called me that day to tell me you were sorry for the last year of not knowing what you wanted…

You had decided to pursue  this relationship.

You asked me if you could call me after you got off work.

I was thrilled

You said it would be pretty late around ten or eleven but the time was fuzzy.

Ten came and ten went.

Eleven came and eleven went.

Twelve came and twelve went.

One O Clock  my grief was more like the death of  a loved  one.

I walked down the long dark hallway.

I  laid  diagonal  across my roommates four-post bed.

The black night was like a spotlight on the white cordless phone.

I dialed up the storyline and played it over  and over again in hopes the line would beep and I could click over to my happiness.

I don’t know how long  I held on to  the phone that night but I do know how long I have held on to you.

Today I wanted to tell you it was over.

I am in love for the second time in my life.

My husband and Son

Sorry for your loss!

Daily Post

Daily Post Free writing (Gloomy Murph)

Prompt: Our weekly free-write is back: take ten minutes — no pauses! — to write about anything, unfiltered and unedited. You can then publish the post as-is, or edit a bit first — your call.

My dog is laying on the floor, a thunderstorm is rolling in. I hear what may be a train whistle but it’s so far away I cannot tell if that is what it is or not? The “Tin Can” is getting darker and darkerand I must admit my stomach has butterflies. I want to get off here so I can look at the weather update but I only have ten minutes. The curtain is flying open, people are outside chatting about something.  It made my heart beat a bit faster wondering if it was the weather they were talking about. There is rumbling now, my dog got up quietly and  strolled back to our room. It’s silent but the fan sounds like a high-speed clock about to blow at anytime! I also hear some water trickling into what seems to be a pile of more water; my bird is chirping and I just looked over at him. He is in his hammock….a hammock for our bird is green, fuzzy, and looks more like a tunnel but its called “hammock”. The rain has picked up and I am not in the best of spirits because I feel everyone including this post and myself is much like the  fan in my living room.

 

 

Daily Post

Daily Post – Waiting Room

Prompt Waiting Room Good things come to those who wait.” Do you agree? How long is it reasonable to wait for something you really want?

This is an older post originally from July 2014, but to me it fit so well with the waiting room theme. My blog is fixed for now until we hit turbulence again. Over the years I have grown to like a bit of a malfunction because of the aftermath it has on us, were never the same just a bit rearranged…

My one year anniversary is coming up and If I learned anything it’s that blogging takes lots of patients and time. Blogging does not just happen overnight eventually it comes to you in bits but nothing more and a whole lot of less.

I should really explain myself.

Before signing on with this blogging platform, I went out on the internet to try to figure out where to start it directed me to a few places. For some reason those platforms did not work out. They just didn’t  feel right. Some of them connected me to other sites of mine and it wasn’t what I was looking for. I wanted something low-key at first so after I was established I would share it with others, if I felt the need.

When climbing on board here there was no one helping me I never blogged before. I didn’t know what a dashboard was, a theme, I wrestled with was a text a post, how do I find people all this along with barely any typing skills whatsoever. Which still need some working on along with my grammar.

What started this blogging idea was I took an english  class a few years ago where I first learned to write an essay. I know that’s awful being a bit slower in school, not paying attention to the teacher, and worrying about everyone else and what they were doing has me feeling regretful at thirty-seven. If there was one thing I could go back and do it would be school. I would have tried harder, focused  more on my school work than my life outside school. Some of that was not all my fault but that’s another post.

When I took this English class and applied myself, It opened me up to a whole new world. What it did was expanded my vocabulary a bit and  Instead of jabbering on paper like I used to. I was writing stories about my life and somewhat staying on the subject. Which allowed me to share my life where people could somewhat understand.

I have done everything the hard way my whole life. Even things out of my power. When I was twelve I had congenital heart defect and had to get a bunch of angioplasty  where the doctor threads a thin tube through a blood vessel in my groin up to the involved site in the valve. Then he expands the valve with a balloon. They did this every year from eight till thirteen it was no longer effective. Then they had to go in and open up my heart, which wasn’t even the hard part. Days after many sleepless nights of hard breathing. My grams  noticed I was filling up with water. because of a pocket on my back had got so full she could see the water, also known as Congestive heart failure. Four hours from drowning in my own fluid they rushed me into surgery putting a chest tube right into my incision and drained more than two liters of water off me.I know its come to past but it is still a great part of the person I have become. Thankful for my life.

I understand that the struggle of blogging is not that severe but it still has been challenging to me because it’s a process of reading, learning, and trying to figure things out by asking questions and waiting days for responses, trying to make it half way presentable since presentation has lots to do with the people you may or may not pull in. Since this has been more for my well-being for now I have thrown the presentation to the wind. When I get the time to write these days it just feels so good to me. So writing is my focus.

I also believe our struggles brings us to our greatest joys.

In my basic college English class we read a book it’s not letting me tell you what it is but it’s about a kid who is now an author who got grounded as a little boy. He had to write obituaries for an old lady who was appointed this job in their small town they lived in. To me he really didn’t deserve to get grounded but that’s my opinion. He really gets a lot of static from kids cause he can’t do things like play ball or got to the movies, even playing outside in his own yard! his mother makes him mow the lawn, take care of the animals and even help her barter so their family can eat  while others kids get the life of Riley!

In my book report at the end of the class. I wrote lets face it nothing good comes out of life without a struggle. Jack Gantos wouldn’t have been able to write this book without his childhood. Sometimes those are the best stories and builds character.

You end up appreciating things when they don’t come easy and fast.

The other day at an origami party I made a necklace with a memorial to my twins who passed away five years ago in premature labor. I have been wanting to do this for a long time. I also put my little guy in there because he couldn’t be left out and neither could my husband, at the end  of the party the host said what about you what do you like to do? don’t you want to put something in their that represents what you like?

Yes! I like to write I have a blog. Do you have a pin charm? No I am sorry we don’t. My response as usual that’s okay I will wait.

 

 

Daily Post · friendship · Home

Probation

FullSizeRenderTake A Chance On Me: What was the biggest chance you took? Did it work out?

I was twenty-one working in a daycare, taking care of babies. The daycare was large and had about 500 kids all together. The front desk had two happy well dressed woman sitting behind it. They were always smiling and greeting  you by name. There was an elevator across from the desk, it ran to the second story of the building, when you got off  you could go right or left, on the right was a short hallway that cut off into a tea, on the left side was a supervisor office and on the right side the owner of the building had her office. I always took the left turn and around the corner. I enjoyed the turn every morning before walking into my room. There were five infant rooms with windows. You could stand out and peak in at many tiny babies, back then we took care of babies who were just six weeks old. I enjoyed the job and the responsibilities because the job made me feel like I was doing my part to make the world a better place. I still had a lot of growing up to do during my spare time.

I had quite the group of friends that led to many nights out dancing, mingling, and meeting men. We always closed the bars down, meaning we did not leave until sometimes after three. This led to strolling in late to work most mornings and coming head to head with that perfect freshly pressed blonde supervisor. She seemed like she had it all together… ( there has always been something intimidating and admirable about a woman who has herself dressed to the nines first thing in the morning). She would look at her watch, shake her head, and purse her lips. I would walk straight to the elevator with my head down to my chest as far as it would go, standing waiting for the doors to open was like waiting for a punishment from your parents, when you were younger. I somehow managed to dodge her wrath.

THEN

One night got a bit out of hand. My friend (who also worked at the daycare) asked me if I wanted to go for a few drinks… It was the first time I tried Fuzzy Navels and they were going down like Niagara Falls. The few things I remember was leaving with my friend and two other guys, a fight that broke out in the parking lot, and falling up stairs. I woke up to the bright sun beaming on me  in a hotel room (yes hotel room) I got up and ran to the bathroom to get sick, after my episode I stood up, creeped back in to the room with my head down, walked over to the clock, picked it up and with a glance a lump formed in my throat, it was eleven o clock. My shift started at eight. A big fat tear rolled down my face. I walked over and shook my friend. I asked her what should we do? Her answer: well its too late now we will just have to look for another job. She lived with her parents. I had my own place and enjoyed having my own place, plus I  loved my job. It made me feel helpful, needed, and grown up. I had let myself down for the first time in my whole life. I got myself together and headed home and went straight to bed. I cried myself to sleep. I woke up later that evening thinking about how to make this right, regardless of the outcome. My plan was just calling and lying, for some reason I  couldn’t bring myself to do that.

The next morning came in as slow as a snail. I got out of bed at six o clock, got breakfast, my shower, and put my makeup on and headed out. My roommate: where are you going”? “To work” Do you think you still have a job Shelley? I have know  idea but I had to try. The drive into town remains the most nerve-racking drive of my whole life. I got to the parking lot and had a few minutes to get inside before my shift. I sat there debating about going in. I just could not give up this good thing I had going on with this job. I got out my car with my head high and shoulders up! I opened the double doors and my boss was sitting at the front desk. I walked straight in as fast as I could to the elevator with my head down. “Shelley” what are you doing here? Going to work? “No” you don’t work here anymore. The words shot out of her mouth in hit me like a bullet to the lungs. Taking my breath away, clumping up in my throat, slowly choking me and holding my voice hostage. It took me a minute to swallow so I could say something. People started to gather around and watch, making the situation worse. “Shelley” just turn around and go home. Fran, please just let me go to my classroom please? “Shelley” you let so many people down yesterday including your class, you through my schedule off and I had to switch people to different class rooms because you no called no-show. Fran please let me go upstairs and do my job?  She sat there for a minute pursing her lips and not blinking. I guess I could use you for the day. Go to your room. We will come get you later. You may have a chance to explain yourself. The day drug but that was okay by me. They waited until the end of my shift to come and get me. We walked down the hall of shame to the supervisor’s office with five well put together woman (you know how that gets me). The owner of the daycare included was there and says what happened to you yesterday Shelley? I sat there debating if I was going to tell the truth or not. She says again “Shelley were waiting” I looked at them all and said I will shoot for the truth, last night I had one to many drinks and woke up at eleven o clock in a hotel room and I really can’t remember too much at all. The reason I did not call was because I had to get myself together, I was shocked, sick and a mess and needed to reflect. I let myself down and had to figure out how to handle the situation. They all looked at each other and looked at me. Then the director says you’re  on probation for three months if you so much come in a minute late we will let you go. I stood up off that chair and told them all “Thank You” it was that moment of truth where I transformed and set the foundation of my work ethics!

If you ever do anything in life be honest, face your mistakes head on even if your punished you will be free. True freedom comes within the heart and mind. When you tell the truth its then when you truly live.