Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Time Is Money

I read in the paper this morning that some lawyers in downtown Toronto are charging one thousand dollars per hour! Costs of doing business are also very high - People really don't get that. Office space costs a fortune. Education costs and the interest rates on money to pay for that education costs big. A single book can cost hundreds of dollars. Professional fees, insurance fees, and costs for periodicals and programs so that you can keep up to date on what's going on in your field are huge. All of these things are necessary, basic minimums to work.

My costs aren't as high as those guys, but it still costs me about $60/hr just to sit here and breathe. If I have to travel anywhere or hire someone for a specific task or back-fill, etc, the cost is higher. It bugs me when people gasp at how much our fees are - and they're not even close to that 1k an hour that the lawyers charge.

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Went to the dentist today - probably for the last time in the foreseeable future. My dental and drug coverage has come to an end. I'm grateful that I got better before my drug coverage ended because the cost of the medications I needed would have meant having to sell my house and going on social assistance. I'll die before I do that. I've been there before and I'm not going back.

Anyway, at the dentist they said I'm brushing properly and all that... but there are problems starting and they believe it's due to improper nutrition.

It's not like I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing - It's that I don't have the option. Try explaining that to someone to whom not buying groceries or not having the money to pay for hydro is a foreign concept. Telling me to get more sleep is kind of like telling a drowning man that he really ought to breathe.

****

The demands for my time are piling up. If I spend 15 minutes reading something (like reading the paper online this morning), that's 15 minutes I'm not spending either earning money or pursuing opportunities. That means groceries, hydro, a roof over my head. It's not about the money itself; It's about surviving. Time really is money and time is also about survival.

I just want to be okay.

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

God Bless Bobby

Bobby (not his real name) is a man who goes to my church. He's one of those people in society who is often treated as invisible. Bobby is and always has been quite visible to me, though. Years ago I was invisible, too, so I know what it's like and make a point of trying to see - really see - those "invisible" people.

Bobby is poor, has no "social standing", uneducated and will never attain all that North American culture has to offer. Some people would say that Bobby is a burden. I say that Bobby is a blessing.

At church there are people who approach Bobby to talk to him and they do it because they genuinely want to. They truly care about him and want him to feel welcome.

Bobby lives in a lodging home (I think that's what it's called) and can be seen rummaging through garbage bins for treasures. His clothes are old and it seems like his nose is always runny. He's very thin. His words are simple and he talks about what most would call insignificant events rather than concepts. But those insignificant events are significant to him. They comprise his life.

There's something about Bobby that grabs my attention. There's a light that shines from within him. Maybe it's because his eyes are so very blue; Maybe it's the Light of Christ.

On Sunday Bobby was excited to see me and talk to me (he's really happy to talk to anyone). He eagerly told me that he had a praise report. He said that someone gave him $20 for no reason. To him, it was like heaven opened up and huge blessing rained on him.

I was walking away from Bobby after the conversation when I felt the urge to turn around and go back to him. I did.

You see, Bobby had just blessed me. Here I am complaining about working so hard when others can't even get a job, when others don't have the physical and/or mental ability to work, and Bobby rummages through garbage, is treated as invisible, and is tremendously grateful for twenty bucks.

I told Bobby that he had just blessed me. I needed to tell him that. You should have seen the look on his face!

He said, "Really?!"

I said, "Yes"

He said "I blessed you? Really?"

I said, "Yes, really."

You'd have thought he'd just been given the greatest news of his life.

When I look at Bobby, I don't see the poor simple guy rummaging through garbage. I see a beautiful and much loved child of God.

God, thank you for Bobby. God bless Bobby.

Monday, February 4, 2008

Slipping

Had a bit of a meltdown right at church yesterday. Some of it was a good thing, some not so good.

Funny: A couple of people told me I looked terrible, unwell. When one of them found out it was because I was tired from working two jobs (and I said I thought I smelled like french fries), she said, "Oh, that explains my craving for salt and vinegar!" Had to laugh at that one.

The not so good: So people are telling me I look terrible. Mostly I just smiled and said "I'm fine" or "I'm tired". One guy even told me "You look like an old bag lady". He was NOT joking. I believe they were just trying to express concern. The bag lady remark surprised me a bit, I have to admit. I didn't think I looked THAT bad!

The same guy told me that "You're a beautiful young lady and men are going to try to be with you even if you say no". (This is after I told him that I was not interested in being with a guy - in response to his questions about why I'm not with anyone.)

I preferred the bag lady remark over the twisted compliment.

Someone approached me with a letter written for me. The letter was about how hurt this person was that I don't spend enough time chatting and how I don't stay long enough after church. I had to sit the person down and explain that it wasn't them, that I was working a lot, etc, etc. I said I'm really tired and don't have a lot of patience these days and don't have time or energy to visit people or chat a lot. I don't know that the person understood, really.

I was doing okay up until then, but my energy was already low and that was pretty much the last of it.


The good: I was standing there during worship, questioning my faith for a number of reasons, telling myself I had no right to be there, trying to look happy, trying to stay standing (I was soooo tired). I told God that I really needed to hear from Him. I needed to hear more loudly and more clearly than I have been recently. I told Him that even though my brain was questioning His existence, I KNEW He was there. I KNOW it in my heart and my guts and bones. I've known it since I can remember, since before anyone ever told me about Him. I prayed that to Him, telling Him I knew, that I COULDN'T not believe, yet I desperately needed His help.

A few seconds later, "Spike", who was leading worship, stopped and made a comment that was really a paraphrase of Isaiah 43:2.

I gasped.

That scripture has HUGE meaning for me for a number of reasons. It's very significant.

I looked up. Spike was not looking at me, was not even looking in my direction. He was just doin' his thing.

Then he said that He felt there was someone in the congregation for whom God had a message, that God wanted the person to know He was there.... Spike described what I was feeling. I hadn't told him - haven't even talked to him for ages. I hadn't told anyone.

So God had spoken.

By the time the sermon came around, I was already back to doubting. (I feel like such a weakling admitting that) Maybe the message was for someone else. Maybe I just wanted to hear and therefore I did.

THEN, as it turns out, one of the major messages in the sermon was about remembering and about not losing your faith, that things would get hard but not to let your faith get stolen.

whoa

So I went to Spike after church because I wanted him to know that what he said was a big deal for me. (I wasn't going to tell him, and was actually on my way out but for some reason felt compelled to let him know. I think we sometimes obey God and then wonder if it was really God or just our own thoughts and it's good for people to know if they did something good like that.)

Well.... I couldn't get two words out of my mouth! I started stammering because I was trying not to cry. I did not want to cry! I don't mind crying tears of joy in front of people but when they are tears of pain or despair, I prefer to keep that out of view. Spike saw what was happening (or maybe I told him - I don't even know) and immediately said, "She's over there" - referring to his wife.

Anyway, I hid out in the Pastor's office crying my silly little eyes out and trying to explain. They were really good about it, very helpful.

I was okay again until I got into my car, and then I cried the whole way home, cried while I washed my work uniform and got ready to go to work.

Fireworks at work last night - long story, another post... Needless to say I was already pretty tired when I walked in; I was wiped at the end of the shift.

Fell asleep at my desk today. That's very bad. Even when I was awake, I got nothing accomplished. I'm getting really behind. I'm slipping here.

Saturday, February 2, 2008

Miracles

The tenant moved out; It wasn't pleasant. In spite of a letter from my lawyer requesting that she move out at a reasonable hour, she was here moving at midnight. That meant no one could go to sleep.

I finally had to call the police. She didn't care. She scoffed and laughed at that.

She still didn't return my property, nor did she return the property she'd taken from the others in the house. She did not return keys, so I've had to change the locks. After she left we found a number of items in the room which didn't belong to her - things we've been looking for that had mysteriously disappeared.

Her door handle is completely broken off. Of course she didn't do that. Must have been gremlins, I guess. The paint on the wall is wrecked where she use to climb in and out of the window at times when she'd forgotten her keys. The carpet (which is only a year old) is destroyed. It's filthy, stained, matted, crushed, and covered in red spray paint.

She left behind a bunch of furniture and over a dozen bags of garbage.

I wanted to cry. I don't have the money or even the credit to fix all this and have the garbage hauled away.

I changed the locks and had new keys made. Most of the furniture she left is gone now. There's still so much to do, though.

The other woman who lives here gave her notice that she's moving out. (The one who couldn't take the shower when she wanted) There's a part of me that doesn't care. I secretly want my home back. But the reality is that I can't pay the bills with the tenants; I don't know how I would manage without them.

My son has been a blessing. He let me rant and rave about it and came to look at it - not that he can do anything - but having someone listen and understand is a big help.

My lawyer, in his perfectly enunciated manner of speaking, said, "I think your tenant has some issues."

Somehow that struck me as terribly funny and I laughed while my lawyer remained silent and absolutely composed and serious (which made the whole thing even funnier).

We had a snowstorm and I spent a lot of time shovelling. I guess working at the restaurant has strengthened my body; After shovelling I was much less sore than I expected.

While I was shovelling, my shovel broke.

Nita the dog broke her leash and took off down the street. That was a big deal, but she's back at home safe and crazy in that way that I love so much. (Tie-outs for dogs are expensive. The ones I get are supposed to be unbreakable.)

I went out and bought a new shovel (on credit - that totally sucks). By the time I got back, my neighbour had shovelled the new snow that had fallen in the meantime. That was really nice of him. My property was shovelled four times, and two of those times it was the neighbour who did it.

I decided to look at the things that I felt grateful for, the blessings that I do have. A fear came upon me. I was afraid to feel grateful in case that which I felt grateful for might also be taken away from me. I know that's not a rational thought, but it does fall into line with what's been happening.

But that kind of fear is not from God, so I'm fighting the negative thought that brings that fear.

God has a plan. I don't know the plan and I don't understand why all of this is happening especially given that I've been doing my best to do what He wants. It seems that people who lie and cheat and steal get ahead, get whatever they want and I'm paying. But the reason for doing what He wants is not so that I can have some reward; It's because I want to do what He wants. Therefore, I will keep doing it (in my messed up human way).

I'm hoping and praying for miracles. Maybe the miracles are all around me and I don't see them. The fact that I'm alive at all is a miracle. The birth and life of my son is a miracle. These beautiful dogs, the wisteria tree outside, frogs in the summer, my sister and niece and nephew, the neighbour who shovels my walk, the woman who makes me stew and the barley thing, that I was born in a rich part of the world, that I'm healthy enough to work and shovel snow and haul garbage, my cats, the elderly lady next door.... Maybe those are the miracles.

Thursday, January 31, 2008

Double Life?

So I met with that guy. It didn't take long for the sexual comments to come out. I knew that (remember he likes the psychological power - and when a guy can't get that over a woman another way, he resorts to the sexual or at least gender-role crap). The only thing I would write here is that he said something about how it would be good if I went to a meeting wearing thigh-high leather boots and carried a whip. Frankly I don't care to recall the other remarks.

Through that meeting, I met a man who founded and runs a big real estate company (who is nothing like the first guy). I talked to lots of people and handed out a lot of business cards and smiled a lot.

I went to the next place and met a whole lot of strangers and handed out my card at every opportunity. When people hear about what I do, they tell me all their horror stories. I don't mind that.... but then the same ones turn around and tell me that they have no need for services such as mine because their situation is over and life is better now. (They forget or deny how quickly things can go awry).

I met a man who was president of a highly successful financial company. That was refreshing. I find that I can really let my hair down when I'm in the company of the big kahunas. It's the little guys and the middle or middle-to-senior managers who are always trying to "get one up" or find a weakness to exploit. The big guys don't need to play games, so I don't need to defend against the game. Anyway, the guy said he was going to keep my card because he thinks that my services might come in handy someday and there's always a need somewhere for what I do. (Thank you, God! Somebody "got it" today!)

That tenant still is not gone but there's a big pile of garbage on my back porch. The back porch that I just finished cleaning out yesterday. Nice.

I don't know yet what I learned today. I haven't had time to process the day yet. Although at one point, while I was all dressed up and talking to the big kahuna guy (which is within my familiar and comfort zone), it struck me that I kind of live a double life. Talking to big kahunas or doing work requiring a lot of expertise by day, and making burgers and scrubbing floors by night.

Tonight I'm not at the restaurant. Tonight I have to compose a behavioural interview for someone. Coming up with the proper questions and wording is easy; Explaining it all in writing to the guy will be the bulk of the work.

It's only 7PM and I'm already really tired. Maybe I'll feel better if I eat something. The same awesome woman who made that stew for me made another dish for me. She called it "the barley thing", so that's what I call it in my head. I think I'll go have some of that The Barley Thing and think about this behavioural interview structure that I'm putting together.

Hey... Thanks for reading this and praying along with me. I appreciate it. :)

Messing With My Head

I met a fellow during a business encounter. We will be going for coffee, but he wanted me to watch this "movie" first so that we could discuss it. It's messing with my head.

Here's the link:

http://www.zeitgeistmovie.com/index.html

Comments?

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Holding My Tongue

So the manager at the second job talked to her boss. Her boss now has to talk to another boss. Apparently they are interested in promoting me but they don't know if they're allowed to because I don't work a full 44 hours a week there and I can't work days during the week. It's not looking good, but we'll see.

Still, I'm grateful. Some people can't find any job at all.

There's a woman at work whose gifting seems to be that of vociferously complaining and criticizing. No one can do things right and she hates her job. Depending on her mood, she might ride you a little or a lot. It's a lot for me to hold my tongue. One of these days I'm going to tell her to knock it off, I just know it.

There's such a huge difference between the attitudes of people. Their basic needs and motivations are the same across the board, but how they go about things and how they think about things is so different. The ones who figure that everyone else owes them are the ones who will never be satisfied.

I've got tons to do re the day job tomorrow (today, really). Gotta get some sleep. Wonder if I can sleep in a little... maybe till 7 or 8. That would be nice. I'm finding I'm less effective since I'm so tired. Everything seems to take a little longer; Everything seems a little harder.

The blisters on the feet are doing well; And no new ones. That's good.

I know I had more to say, but can't think of any of it right now.