Well, exactly two weeks from today I will be saying goodbye to the bank.
Oddly, I feel a tiny bit funny about it.
Not about leaving Corporate America, where you’re not allowed to listen to the radio (or even CD’s), where you aren’t allowed to carry your cell phone in your pocket on silent, where you’re not allowed to check the weather online, where you can’t email your advisor (or anyone else) during downtime because your forbidden to email outside the intranet, where you can't wear open toe shoes or capris…
But about the girls.
The first six months or so I spent at the bank, there was discord. Behind the line were 4 women trying to “get along” in a small space. And needless to say, it got off to a very rough start..
And then there were changes within the branch. Pat (unwillingly) relocated, Katie stepped down, Lisa was out on medical leave, new faces came and went, new rules were enacted and enforced…
And suddenly, us lowly tellers started to band together, formed bonds, and developed friendships.
And I suppose, as much as I complain, I will miss those women.
And then, after my two weeks is up, two days later I will be starting my college classes.
I go back and forth daily between excitement and sheer panic.
But mostly, I am just excited.
I have spent the last few weeks getting everything in order… Financial aid, the scholarship program details, immunizations, class registration...
I only have to get my books now, and actually go school shopping. That just blows my mind. I’m going school shopping, not for my kids, but for ME. How surreal.
The girl with lots of credits and no degrees, who could never really decide what she wanted to be when she grew up, who was never afforded the time or opportunity to go back to school, is finally pursuing a Bachelor's degree, and her pipe-dream of being an English teacher.
I pinch myself daily.
I don’t know how I got so lucky in all of this.
How did everything fall into place so neatly?
I happen to meet a wonderful man, who is moving in, and willing to solely support this household while I go back to school.
I happen to hear about this Competitive Skills Scholarship Program, submit my application (along with thousands of other people), and I get picked out of the lottery.
As most of you know, I have never been the poster child for “good luck”. I’m pretty fortunate compared to a lot of people, but my life has been a consistent stream of hardships.
And so, I still pinch myself.
The dogs are doing well. Herc is stable. The prednisone seems to be doing it’s job. He is still very uncoordinated, and looks like a dog on Jack Daniels. But he’s actually able to navigate stairs now, which he couldn’t do 6 months ago. He still doesn’t illicit any signs of pain. We are still hoping he will live a long life with us.
Anselmo is a sweet, sweet boy. He is very clingy to his people. Which is hard sometimes, because he is constantly covering us in his thick, gelatinous saliva. It is seriously disgusting.
Logan is turning 16 in a few weeks. Oh boy. She will be testing for her license soon afterwards. Which is frightening, to say the very least. She definitely needs more practice.
Softball has just started, and I am excited for tonight’s first game. She has been a first-baseman for years, but she is pitching this year, which she has not had much experience with. Hopefully she doesn’t suck. LOL…
She is still a “good kid”. I see other teenagers doing awful things, behaving poorly, making very bad decisions, and I count my blessings that she is who she is. However, there are still days that I’d like to strangle the life out of her.
Dawson is making gains in his personal and academic life. We had a meeting at school this week regarding what he needs in the classroom. We are in the process of getting him evaluated at school, so that he can have a formulated plan that will follow him from grade to grade.
He was having a really hard time coping with all the changes at both Mom’s house and Dad’s. I got him into a counselor a few weeks ago. Even though he was quite open and talkative with her right from the beginning, he argued that he didn’t need to go. Recently though, he has begun to look forward to their weekly meetings. This week he told her- “I think EVERYONE needs a therapist”. Pretty smart boy.
Kayli is just a lovely young girl. I really can’t say anything else. I often tease Troy, and call her a “stepford child”. She is so good, she must be a robot. Her and Dawson just love each other. Really love each other. Dawson has actually said “I love you” to her the last few times they have parted. And she definitely looks up to Logan. And for whatever reason, she loves me too.
My relationship continues to thrive. How? I don’t know. He must be a very patient man. Or he must love me. Maybe a little of both.
We are learning to live together. Or maybe I should say, Troy is learning to live with ME. God knows I am NOT easy to live with.
I want the toilet paper put on frontward. The shower curtain is to be closed after a shower. The toilet lid must be down at all times. Towels go on the towel bar, not on the shower curtain rod. Windows you open must be closed. Closet doors must be closed, not left open a crack. Empty returnables go in the bag, not on the counter. Big trash items go in the big trash in the closet, not the small trash under the sink. Jars of spaghetti sauce and cans of vegetables go on the bottom shelves in the pantry, snacks and cereals go on the top shelves. Leaves on the table get folded down after dinnertime.
And on, and on, and on…
Seriously though, we have been through some of the typical relationship struggles. And we have managed to come out on top each time. I guess this is how a functional relationship works. When two people truly love each other, maintain the ability to communicate, put each other's needs first... Huh. Who knew.
And now, I must end my rant and go get ready to join the ranks at Corporate America.
Just two more weeks.