MISSING ITEM:

1 Man’s crew sock – white – size 9 – grey heel and toe

Last known location:

Downstairs – laundry room – washing machine

Visible scars/tattooes or markings:

Medium sized brown/black mud stain near heel

Word “Hanes” tattooed near ball of foot

Additional information:

The last known location for this missing item was in the washing machine. Sometime between 9:12 and 9:13 a.m. this item went missing. All avenues of investigation have been exhausted as clues to the item’s where abouts have either gone astray or dried up completely. This item had a scheduled arrival point and has failed to appear at it’s destination causing an (APA) All Points Alert to be issued.

We have been told that this item is one of a pair and the surviving member feels incomplete and cannot continue alone.

If you have any information regarding the where abouts of this missing item please contact us immediately.

Remember: all information is kept strictly confidential, your identity or the identity of any known associates will not be released to the general public. Your information, should it be helpful in locating the missing item, may entitle you to a reward.

REWARD:

Should your information be deemed helpful in our investigation we will bestow upon you the following reward:

1 tea towel. This tea towel has great value as it seems to have a mysterious power. Although the origin of said tea towel cannot be verified, the owner has no recollection of purchasing the towel or when it began to mysteriously appear. Every 2 to 3 weeks the aforementioned tea towel mysteriously appears in the laundry room, disappears for a time then reappears in the linen closet.

Thank you in advance for all your tips and information.

I saw someone the other day that I haven’t seen in a while, like a month or so, yes for me, that IS a while and they said “OMG, where have you been”? Um what, what do you mean where have I been, I’ve been right here. I haven’t gone anywhere in so long, how could you not see me?

Truth is no matter where physically I have been I haven’t actually been anywhere. I have gotten up every day and gone somewhere but I haven’t actually been all there. For 6 straight months now I have simply “been”. I’ve “been” at work, a lot, too much lately. I have “been” to see friends. I have “been” to see bank folks, lawyers and cranky people wanting either money or papers claiming there is no money. I have “been” back and forth for over a week to a storage locker filled with stuff that isn’t even mine, nor do I want it. I have “been” here all along but too many people claim to have not seen me for quite a while.

How is that even possible? Almost everyone knows where to find me and the ones that aren’t part of the “almost” couldn’t find me as I continue to hone my hiding skills.

So where have I been all this time? Here, but not here. Aware but painfully unaware. I have been lost in a world of “get ‘er done’. My father’s estate needs attention so all my focus gets channeled there for as long as it takes to put out whatever fire is burning. Work is in what seems to be, a permanent state of flux where every day there is something new that needs my attention. The fact that I have been burning through staff like a pyromaniac only adds to my stress.

 It feels like I have been chasing my own tail for so long that I’m not even sure I have a tail or if there ever was one. Maybe I have the delusion of having a tail and honestly can’t decide what I’m doing or what I should be doing. Although I am one of those weird people who actually does like change I think this constant wave of change is starting to wear on me. I think I may actually be getting too comfortable with having a total lack of routine right now and that can’t be healthy. I loathe routine that takes up more than an hour of my day but somewhere in this present insanity I need to have something that lacks routine yet has consistency. That is a rather elusive line to live along and requires discipline that I don’t have for the moment and balance that requires more work than I’m willing to do.

I have 5 things that I am really missing and hope to get back to before I forget how much I enjoyed doing them.

1. having time to myself to write, blogs, poems, observations or rants

2. being able to just go where and when I want to without checking in with anyone

3. sleeping in past 5 a.m.

4. camping when and where I want to without being tied to a cell phone

5. spending time with friends (who have misinterpreted my absence as an end)

Lately I have been running from one place to another and have not really accomplished much, or so it seems. Hopefully hindsight will reveal something very different than my own limited view.

One of the most rewarding aspects of my job is the very reason why I have a job, the customers. The folks that walk through our door are as varied as the many different ways one can make a coffee, each one comes complete with their own personality and story. Every day I leave work with more than enough material to blog for months hence the lack of blogging about work, there’s just too much material.

As rewarding as the customers are they can also be the biggest pain in the ass. Some folks are like The Borg as they try their very best to assimilate you into their lives based on a relationship that they have built in their head. Honestly, how deep is a relationship when your only interaction is an exchange of money for yummy. Still for some folks that 15 second connection is enough for them to build a long lasting “friendship” as they bounce beyond any rational person’s boundary, answering unasked questions and giving way too much detail about their day to day life.

With that being said it’s still an amazing journey through life that can be trying but for the most part is fascinating. I know stuff about folks that: a) I didn’t ask any questions that warranted the info, b) I  didn’t want to know in the first place and c) without pictures I have no proof The most trying part of my day is keeping my smart ass-ed answers inside my head and away from my lips as people can and do ask the dumbest questions. Yes, I am just as guilty as the next person but hearing them as often as I do they now become fodder for blogging. Here are my top 5 “what I’d rather say” replies.

#1 – “how big is the small”            what I’d rather say – dunno, how jumbo is a shrimp

what I generally say – it’s really only a sample size and most people prefer the medium

#2 – while staring at an empty basket “do you have any more carrot muffins”     preferred reply – yes I still have all of them but none for you today, you too fat, you go on diet (complete with Chinese food owner’s accent)

what I generally say – sadly they are our most popular muffin and sell out pretty early

#3 – while looking at the muffin case “what kind of muffins do you have”     preferred reply – hey, you’re standing right there, how ’bout you tell me for a change

what I generally say -well let’s just have a look see at what we have left

#4 – “are any of your donuts low fat”     preferred reply – you betcha Buffy, that’s what all donuts are low fat, uh huh, no one ever got fat eating a donut, yeesh

what I generally say – wish it were so but sadly no

#5 – “I saw a girl who looks just like you yesterday at the bank, do you have a sister”  no  “do you have a twin sister then”      preferred reply – no I don’t have a sister but I do have a twin, we’re just not related!

what I generally say – could have been me or it could have been my body double.

I’ll keep working on the last one to soften it up a bit because I fear my preferred reply is closer to getting out each and every time I hear that question.

I haven’t been here in a long time and it all comes down to one of many things, a lack there of….

A lack of uninterrupted time, a lack of focus, a lack of creativity, a lack of discipline, a lack of good light hearted material, a lack of energy, a lack of desire. I have had a ton of material to work with over the past 2 and a half months but every time I fire up my laptop something else needs my attention, right that minute. Then when I return I lose my focus and all that I wanted to blog about becomes disconnected and I can’t put more than 10 words together. That stumps my ability to be creative as I scramble to try to put the whole flow of thoughts back into sequence. Discipline has NEVER been my strong point, flighty thoughts reign supreme. Some days I get home too worn out and tired to remember breath, blink, breath, blink, swallow, cook dinner, breath again etc. I’ve been stuck in a rut of receiving, processing and planning that all needs to be done as quickly as possible or at least that’s the speed I’ve told myself it needs to be done in. All of that just chews away at my desire to fill a blank page with anything that looks remotely unlike rage even though I’m not angry, just creatively frustrated.

I forced myself today to just sit and stare at a blank page and wait for my mind to slow down and rearrange where my thoughts were taking me to. Not perhaps the most effective way to jump start a writing slump but a start is a start just the same.

I could drag you through the whole list of a lack there of and how it came to be but I think it would be better to start from somewhere different, for now. I may revisit the steps that led to here in a blog but for now I’m just happy to finally be able to fill a blank screen, no matter how uninformative it is.

If you’ve checked back here in the last few months, thank you.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 My entire life my father fought against the lure of alcohol and 98% of the time the alcohol won. Alcohol or any addiction can and usually does tear a family to pieces leaving the addicted alone and separated from family and friends Sadly not seeking treatment for an addiction is, to an outsider, a choice that does have very real consequences and the wounded outsiders are willing to let the chips fall where they may. Over time everyone grows tired of the abuse and slowly people just drift away disconnecting from the addicted leaving them alone to sleep in the bed they’ve made for themselves.

Yesterday I came face to face with that cliche as I literally saw the bed my father had made and died in 4 days earlier. I had spent the morning getting mentally prepared for what I would see when I walked through the door of what had been his home for the past 8 months. I was very prepared to break down at the sight of the first familiar thing, his coat, a hat, a picture or something that either he or my mother held dear. What I was not prepared for was the lack of empathy I felt and still feel that he had been dead for 4 days and no one knew it. Could be that I’m not supposed to feel anything at all. After all, when you accept the choices that someone else makes you also have to accept the consequences of those choices and I guess over time I had reconciled both.

As I looked around his tiny apartment I felt next to nothing, there was no remorse, no sadness, no empathy only a small amount of anger. Anger that he had not kept more things that belonged to my mother. I was annoyed that her touch was missing and was sickened by the smell.

The plan yesterday for Steve and I was to get into his apartment, locate his will (Steve has the dubious task as executor), financial papers, life insurance papers and access what was there. Today the plan is to go back and begin removing the contents from his apartment all the while sorting out what is good and what is garbage. There will be no big estate sale, my brother wants nothing from the apartment and well, neither do I. We are the only remaining relatives from my parents and if cousins want to fly here to pick through his stuff they are more than welcome to  but there is nothing left of value.

Today and the days ahead we had to find out how many more credit companies he owed 10s of thousands of dollars to and if there is any money left to fulfill my father’s promise to my brother. It’s somewhat tragically funny how a life can change from something so familiar to something so strange in just a few short months.