accident

Mistakes; they happen

mistake

It’s easy to look back on past actions and decisions and say, “yeah, that was a mistake I won’t repeat”.  You live and learn, right?  Some mistakes are big and some are small; some are life altering while others go unnoticed.  As I touched on in a previous post about Forgiveness, some mistakes require us to forgive even ourselves so that we can move on.  Today is the final day that I grapple with a mistake I made just over a year ago.

I know we all get that feeling deep down in the pit of our stomach when something just isn’t right.  That feeling that says, “Don’t do it – something’s fishy!”  The one that you wish the actors/actresses in horror movies would listen to so that we can save ourselves from screaming at the TV, “DON’T GO IN THERE!”

If only I would have taken heed to that feeling on October 5, 2014.

That is the day I sat in front of a car dealer and threw caution to the wind, regardless of the feelings in my stomach and what I would normally do in a situation like that.  I sat there and purchased a car that was not only completely against what I went to purchase but out of my comfortable price range.  That is the day I sat there with my then husband, whom I married barely two month earlier, and who encouraged me to purchase a nice car because “I deserved it.”  Everything I had ever spent money on up until that point in our relationship was purchased under the guarded understanding that I need to be able to afford this myself without his help because it wasn’t guaranteed.  Let’s face it, in life, nothing is guaranteed.

But I did it anyway.  I purchased Mona, my car, under the assumption that since there were now two incomes, I shouldn’t worry; besides, we were newly married.  Well, not anymore.  And you know how “they” say that you shouldn’t name something or else you’ll get attached?  Yeah, don’t do that because it goes for a car, too.  A year later and I am completely attached to my car that I shouldn’t/can’t keep.  Could I blame him for encouraging me to get a car out of my range when he already knew he wasn’t sticking around?  Yes, I could.  Yes, I want to.  Yes! Yes! YES!!

Alas, I can’t.  At the end of the day, I made that decision.  I bought it myself, under my name, using my good credit, not his, and without the approval of that ugly feeling in the pit of my stomach.  I knew it was a mistake, but I made it anyway.  Today, I forgive that mistake and search for a new-to-me car (or motorcycle *wink*wink*) to call my own….and with a kick ass name to match.  😉

Lesson Learned.  Take heed to the feelings of uneasiness!
Chances are, they’re there for a reason.

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Minding my business…

I had a situation the other day that I wonder what others would have done in my shoes.  People in our society these days like to take this “I’m not going to get involved” approach to things.  I tend to wonder where people draw the line on when they are going to say something and when they won’t.  We have folks who want to chastise parents for parenting (aka spanking) their bratty kids and then there’s the people who watch as other kids are actually abused without saying anything at all.  My story is not at this level but, after the fact, it made me think…

I went for my dress fitting and, as I was sitting in my car getting ready to leave, I received a phone call, so I sat to talk for a minute.  Now, imagine this: the parking spot in front of me is empty and there is a car on both sides of the spot: a shiny, blue Acura Integra on the left and a junkie, old, banged up Toyota ‘something’ on the right.  I’m blabbing away on the phone and I see this person coming from the right to pull into the parking spot and they’re coming in pretty fast.  It’s going to be a tight squeeze even for the little Honda that they were driving….

Okay, FINE, i’ll say it – it was a woman driver!  Geez!  Back to the story…

So, to make matters worse, girlfriend was on the damn phone.  She was coming in fast and she pulled into the spot as if there were no other cars on either side!  Translation:  she COMPLETELY rubbed up on the bumper of the Acura and, I kid you not, she didn’t…even…flinch.  The entire Acura moved as she was rubbing it so I found it hard to understand why she didn’t stop as soon as she made contact.  My mouth fell wide open and I actually said, “ouch! ouch! ouch!” out loud.  Incredibly, she didn’t stop there, she continued to park.

Not actual incident.

Not actual incident.

Remember how I said it was a tight squeeze?  Yeah, well, she threw the door open and hit the Toyota.  I’m not sure why she expected to be able to get out of her car.  If she just looked out her window, she would have seen that the door wasn’t going to open more than a foot. That STILL didn’t deter this girl…she still tried to get out of her car.  (Sidebar: that must have been some phone conversation because she was still on it.) There was no way she was getting out so  she turns back in her seat, closes the door and starts up the car to leave.   This is where the self-imposed dilemma begins…

I wonder, ‘Is she going to leave-leave; or, just move to another spot?’  I don’t know what she’s going to do so I frantically grab a piece of paper and pen to write down this broad’s license plate number – just in case.  She knows that I’ve seen her rub this car and now she can probably assume that i’m fumbling around to write down her license plate number.   She moves to another spot and she’s watching me as she’s talking on the phone.  So, I think to myself,

“Oh, Maritza, do you REALLY want to get involved with a possible crazy woman?  You’re in front of a bridal salon for Pete’s sake.  Everyone knows that brides be crazy and she could be the bride so she might go nuts on me…do we chance it?”  😉

Girlfriend got out of her car, went to look at the Acura and after standing there for a moment on the phone she decides to get back into he car and FINALLY get off the phone – first smart thing she did.  The second smart thing was to spend another 8 minutes finding paper so she could presumably leave a “note”.   Well, to make a long story short she leaves a huge 8.5 x 11 piece of orange paper on the handle of the car and I decide that she was doing the honest thing and leaving a note about the damage.   I’m not going to get out of my car and check the note to make sure she didn’t leave an advertisement instead of a damage note. I’m going to trust and believe that she made a stupid mistake and now she’s making it right by leaving a note so she can take care of whatever damages there are.  Good!

Now, I can go home and eat dinner since I starved myself before my dress fitting.  I kid, I kid…

The things I do for work – Part 2

If it’s not one thing, it’s another.  You may or may not be able to tell from my last post that I don’t mind doing little side “jobs” for my boss(es) because at this point in my life at the office, it actually keeps things interesting.  Yesterday was no exception.  

THE OATMEAL INCIDENT:  So, I get a call in the morning from the boss and it goes like this:

Boss: Have you been to the cafeteria yet?
Considering his past requests, this is a new one, so i’m unsure how to respond with anything other than the truth.
Me: Um, yes?
Boss: Oh….I was going to ask if you could get me some oatmeal if you hadn’t gone down yet…..
I’m pretty sure this is still a request to get breakfast for him, so I give in.
Me: I can still get that for you.
Boss: Oh, can you? Great! I can give you some money and then you can take the $1.25 out that I owe you from the soda that you got me yesterday.

I can’t help but smile because, quite frankly, I had already forgotten about the $1.25 and, since there was no additional comment about the soda, that probably means it DIDN’T explode like I thought it would.  So, I mosey into his office, get the money, asked if he wanted a large or small size – he wants small and he adds that he wants a scoop of brown sugar.  Off I go to the cafe.  

As i’m getting his oatmeal a co-worker starts chatting me up.  The conversation wasn’t anything deep, but i’m so ADD that I turn on the autopilot for the oatmeal task and focus on the conversation.  Blah, blah, blah, healthy eating, blah, blah, blah (healthy eating being the topic of lots of conversations in the cafeteria for me, but that’s another post for another day).  In my attempt at multi-tasking, I suddenly realize that I am no longer scooping large spoonfuls of lumpy oatmeal into the small cup.  No, sir, I’ve made it over to the “toppings” section of the cafe where i’m scooping rather large spoonfuls of brown sugar onto the oatmeal.  Once I realized, it was kind of too late.  Conversation – OVER!!  I put down the spoon of brown sugar that I was ready to drop in, and I examined the bowl to decide whether I would toss that one and make a new one or scoop some of the sugar out or just take it to him the way it is.  

To put things in perspective, this is the same man that happened to be making his tea at the same time that I made my coffee and when he saw me put 3 packets of Splenda in my coffee, he about had a heart attack.  “3 packets? WWWWWWOW!  Do you know what that is? Have you heard of the health risks behind using so much of it? How does it make you feel?” and it kind of went on and on as he schooled me on Splenda.  To this day, I only use one packet in my coffee which may or may not have anything to do with the conversation we had and cutting down to one packet didn’t happen overnight.  

Anyway, so to put so much brown sugar in his oatmeal, just made me dread and wonder what kind of lecture I was going to receive.  I didn’t want to waste the oatmeal, so I attempted to scoop some of the brown sugar out before it melted into molasses.  I think I succeeded, somewhat, but this is still definitely way more than he ever uses on a regular basis.  

Image

So, again, i’m troubled with the question, ‘How do I tell him that there might be TOO much sugar in it?’  I hate making mistakes, like anyone else, so it bothered me that I haphazardly made his breakfast.  Oh well.  He’ll either like it or he won’t like it.  I paid for the oatmeal, took out my $1.25 from the change, and made my way upstairs before it got cold.  I told him that I hoped that it wasn’t too much sugar, he thanked me and that was that.  He ended up leaving early because he wasn’t feeling well – hopefully the oversugar’ed oatmeal didn’t have anything to do with that sickening feeling.  *sigh*

And I know what you’re thinking, the answer is no, even if I made it wrong it will not stop him from asking me again in the future.  I’ll just accept my pleasant lecture on how he actually likes it, and make it right the next time.  😉

The things I do for work – PART 1

I totally get that people have all kinds of odd jobs they do for their bosses on a regular basis and i’m not one to compare or say that what I’m doing is any better or worse, or however you want to look at it.  So, I have a boss that has his own funny way of asking me to do/get something for him, which I don’t mind doing, but sometimes they come with some [in]direct accusations, commentary, or quasi-PSA.

THE SODA INCIDENT.  I get a call from the boss yesterday and the conversation goes like this:

Boss: Do you have change for a $5?
Sidebar – I NEVER have change when he asks me and he asks on an almost daily basis, which makes me wonder why he constantly asks at all.
Me: No, i’m sorry, I don’t.
Boss: Oh, hmm……………*this silence felt like forever*…..
Me: (as if talking to a child): Are you thirsty?
Boss: Yeaaaaahhh, I kinda wanted a Coke Zero.
Me: Well, I have $1.25, I can at least get that for you.
Boss:  Great!!

I go to get the soda, and it’s actually a traumatizing experience to have to get his soda on a daily basis because a couple of years ago he actually accused me of shaking his soda before I delivered it.  He didn’t accuse me in a horrible, mean way, he just halfway joked and said, “hey, did you shake that soda?  It exploded when I opened it.”  I was so shocked and embarrassed that he would actually think i’d do that.  ME?!!!  Ever since that day, I have taken so much care in making sure that his soda doesn’t even land when it comes out of the vending machine.  I put my hands in there to “soften” the fall and everything!

Anyway, I go to get the soda and run through my routing of catching the soda as it comes down, but it feels hard – like it’s been shaken and is ready to explode.  NOOOOOOO!!! This can’t be happening!  I actually debate on buying another one and giving him the better of the two, but then again, what am I going to do with the other soda? So now, on my walk back to his office, I pray that he isn’t on the phone so I can tell him that he needs to give it a minute before he opens it…but what if he is on the phone? How am I going to tell him using hand gestures that he needs to wait?  Ugh!  My nightmares are becoming reality!  Okay, not really, but it did worry me for a half second.

Thankfully, he wasn’t on the phone.  I gave him his soda, he thanked me, and I told him to give it a few minutes because it felt solid and ready to blow, to which he responded with an ‘okay’.  It wasn’t a thankful okay, it was kind of like the okay that you get when someone hasn’t heard what you said and they are just agreeing with you.  The problem was, I was already halfway out the door by the time I remembered that he doesn’t hear very well and his hearing aid was on his desk………………..

Oh well, I did my part.  At least if it exploded I could say, with a clear conscience, “You didn’t hear me tell you to give it a minute?!”  🙂