Catching Up

The last two months have been a tilt-a-whirl of work and activity and… stuff. Some of you have bitterly complained at my lack of blogging—and I thank you for flattering me so. I have missed it too.

I was promoted at work, and my title changed to Document Control Manager. My dad has often said that you don’t have to be a sonofabitch to be a manager, but if you’re not, you’ll become one. I hope that isn’t truly the case, but it is reflective that managing is not a popularity contest one can expect to win every day. The title which I have bestowed on myself is “Document Nazi”—a pre-emptive strike before anyone else could. I have three people reporting to me now—seemingly happily so far for all of us. (Oh, except for the one that I have to talk to tomorrow about either getting fully engaged with the work, or...) I am so happy that along with the new responsibilities, I am still doing hands-on technical writing and documentation work; but it does make for some longer hours that cut into my blogging.

My therapist encouraged me to sign up on Match.com to get some romantic juice going in my life, and it has been the cornucopia of dating. It was uplifting to find that such abundance exists in single men sincerely (for the most part) seeking relationship. And although also uplifting to the ego to receive so much positive attention, juggling lunches and dinners and coffees to meet these potential suitors became overwhelming to a point that at times I just wanted to spend a night or weekend at home in my ratty bathrobe and Homer Simpson slippers. I also found it distressing to go through a series of mini break-ups. Even if it was just one meeting that showed no hope for potential relationship, it was always hard to go through, “I don’t think so, but thanks for being on the show.” Almost all of the men I met were decent people, but just not a match for me. There were a few who were very fun and that I continued to see with the knowledge that for the long haul, it probably was not happenin’.

Then I met Scott, and all the others faded into the background and off the map. As I’ve been sitting here trying to come up with profound descriptions, I decided that I can’t do him justice in 25 words or less. Or even 2500 words or more. He’s Scott. When people ask how we met, I tell them that I chased him down and calf-roped him, to which he responds, "Never was there a more willing calf." And you can now blame him for absorbing large amounts of what previously would have been blogging time.

Time with my friends has undoubtedly been pared back a bit by work and romance, but I have still managed to get together with those who make my life so rich and textured. Last week I had my bi-annual chick party/apparel exchange, which required bulldozing the chaos in my house to a point of respectability and preparing for the onslaught of women prepared to eat, drink, and “shop”. We had a wonderful time. Friday I got the last bag of left-over clothing to charity, the clothes racks down to the basement, and the cooler put away. Normalcy—whatever that constitutes in my life—seems to be re-asserting itself.

Here I am. I’m back. I’m happy. Life is good. I’ll be working at managing my time to get in the periodic blog on a more regular basis. Thanks for being on the show!