My 7 Up

I'm having a 'castaway' kind of day. What I mean is, I'm just trying to get through it. Nothing is particularly wrong. I'm just so tired, and have kind of a partial sinus infection. I've laid on the couch and done laundry all day and taken kids to the movies. That's it. My ass hasn't left this couch except to let dogs out and change loads.

I should vaccuum. I should dust. I should do bills. I should, I should I should. I don't wanna, don't wanna, don't wanna. I'm tired of 'shoulds'. I'm being, uhl, 'authentic'. Yeah, that's it. Authentic.

A boy called for my daughter. I don't know anything about this boy. Never heard his name uttered. Somehow, this bums me out. The kids are both doing their thing today, with their friends. And, that's great. If any of my friends called me, I don't know that I'd do anything. I'd invite them to come and lie on the couch. That's about it.

I watched one of the episodes of '7 Up'. I'm glad I did. I forgot how good of a series that is. I have netflix, and didn't order the latest episode, which, I think now is '42 up'. So, I ended up watching '28 up'. But, it was still good, thought provoking. "Give me a boy until the age of 7 and I'll show you a man'... or whatever that quote is. It made me think about where I was at the age of 7...

It was 1970. My baby brother had yet to be born. I was in the 1st grade. My teacher, Mrs. Jones, was really hard. I remember that. I remember I had a heck of a time learning how to read. I remember being in the dumb kids reading group. We could barely get through Dick and Jane books. I think there were just 4 of us in the group. And, we caught alot of shit for that. But, I remember that. I also remember being sick alot with ear infections, one after the other. I'm sure now, that the two are connected! I see it all of the time with kids that come to the center.

My best friend was Denise. She became my best friend by simply showing up at the precise time I needed to 'get' a best friend. She lived less than a block away. She was tall. I was short. She had freckles. I did not. We both had little sisters. We both had a mom and a dad that still lived together. That was enough. Denise had no trouble reading. She devoured books. But, I also remember when reading clicked with me. It was like a light turned on. I read aloud and was taking off with dick and jane. Soon, I was out of the dumb circle and in with the rest. And, soon after that, I was even in the higher group. Being able to read, and read well, at least in the 1st grade, was a badge of honor.

I remember my older sisters, Ann and Kathy were my personal heroes. Ann was a hippy. She was always making something 'cool' or 'groovy'. I remember her using a loom and making some sort of beaded headbands. Kathy looked like a movie star. She had a big chest and perfect smile. She had dark hair. She had olive skin. And, boys liked her. She was a good athlete, too, as I remember. She liked to dance. Ann liked to draw. And, they were both really cool.

My little sister, Sarah was still at home. I don't remember much about her then. What did she do during the day? I think she went to a babysitter who was wretched. I remember that the babysitter collected large statues of elephants and once locked Sarah in her bedroom for hours and hours. I think her name was Sandra. Sarah and I shared a bedroom and played barbies all of the time. I dominated her, and made sure that I always got the 'good' barbie', the 'good' furniture. I was such a brat, at least at home. At school, I was very very shy.

So, is that me, now? Am I shy at 'school' and a brat at home? I don't think so. I do think I continue to learn the way I did then. I'm a slow learner. It takes me a while to figure something out, but, once I do, watch out. I'm freakishly good at whatever it is I learn to do. But, the process of learning... not good. Slow as molasses. Is this a learning disability? Probably.

I remember learning how to type. I took a job as a secretary at KU, with no experience working in an office. I think the reason I got the job, was because I wore a really nice suit to the interview, and my future boss who interviewed me, liked it. Faced with the computer, back in 1987, I was worried. It took a long time for me to 'get it'. My sister Ann, already a long time secretary at Notre Dame, who could type a zillion words a minute, would give me advice long distance. 'When you type, don't think of the letters, think of the word itself'. I was convinced I'd get fired, I was so slow a typist. I screwed things up all of the time. I remember being reprimanded for mailing an empty envelope. Not good. But, they gave me another chance.

Fast forward a few years. I'm the queen of the office, type like a wild woman and well liked. It all worked out. It always works out. Somehow.

For me now, ironically, it's the proper 'technique' for cleaning floors. I don't get it. I don't have wood floors or ceramic tile, but, every house I clean, does. I am told that the floors are the first thing to get done. That makes no sense to me. But, I have to believe my boss. No cleaning solution on the wood floors, except white vinegar and hot water? I was raised on large amounts of sour, awful cleaning solutions. The more pungent, the better they worked. That was the way mom approached things. So, I have to undo this belief.

I may actually get all of the laundry done and put away. Now, that will feel good. All of it. Put away. Empty washer and empty dryer. Then, the bills. Paid. On time. Out the door. So, why doesn't that feel like it is enough? What's wrong with that?

Evaluation time is coming up. Not looking forward to it.