So lately I've been wondering if I'm in a black hole. Things have been happening that make me want to look around and ask, "Am I on some sort of candid camera?"
First of all, I've received two traffic tickets in the last two weeks. I got one almost three years ago in Beaver...for going 84 in a 75. Yeah, I didn't think that was funny. But I've been patiently waiting three years for that to disappear from my record. And then two weeks ago I got a ticket for making a slightly erroneous judgement call and sliding through a barely-red light. We've all done it. Some of us more than once. But I called the Sandy court and I will be heading to traffic school next week to clear that ticket, so I could still have my coveted clean record. But then on Tuesday of this week, I got pulled over again. I saw the flashing lights behind me and thought there was no way he was pulling me over...AGAIN? But he was. And the violation? Not coming to a complete stop at a stop sign. I was completely floored when he came up to my window. I looked at him blankly when he told me the violation, and then asked if he was serious. He didn't think that was funny. (Nor was I trying to be funny. I was just starting to wonder what dimension I was in.)
So apparently I have a problem with intersections where one must stop. (Never mind the speeding that I do on a regular basis through construction zones.) The crappy thing really was that I was actually doing my best to watch my driving and fix my illegal habits. Oh, well. I'm getting over it. But that clean driving record will elude me again for three years...
Now for work. I'm a writer. And I'm pretty sure that means I'm supposedly the expert on writing in the office. When I get assigned to a project it's usually to do, oh, I don't know, the writing? I get irritated when road signs or flyers are written badly. I unconsciously edit just about everything I read. I spend my efforts at work improving and working on a certain tone, style, technique, and skill that allow me to effectively communicate the message that the company wants to communicate. I get paid for that. It's my job. Get the picture?
I was working on a brochure recently. We were right up against the print deadline when the design department suddenly huddles together and decides that they don't like some of the text. It apparently did not flow well with their design. I was baffled. I don't ever look at the layout and go back and tell them I don't like it, or that it "doesn't work" with my copy. After all, I'm writing the message we want to send. They just make it look nice. Right? Well, apparently I'm wrong. Long story short, I put up a fight, but after they pulled in the big guns (i.e., executive member), I ended up rewriting what they wanted. But oh...that chaffed.
And today I got another one. I had been working on a short article for our Events department. I had written it, rewritten it, and rewritten it after a meeting with them (and that same executive member mentioned above) where they nailed down exactly what they wanted to say. I put their ideas into an article. But today they sent it back. One of their guys just didn't really feel like the article was capturing the "vision." So, he rewrote it. REWROTE IT. They sent it back to me to see if it was okay. Now, the man who rewrote it is a fantastic event coordinator and designer. He creates incredible presentations, stage layouts, and show flows. However, I believe this goes to show that everyone believes they're a writer. When I got his "rewrite," it was a mess. I'll have to start over.
So I have to ask: why am I here? If EVERYONE thinks they can write, why do they pay me?
I really did start looking around at that point and wonder if I had somehow slipped into some other dimension. No wait...I didn't. That's just my life.
Okay, so my site is still blocked at work. That really bothers me.
But just so no one thinks I'm MIA (or that I've given up on this site), I should probably at least share a funny story about last night.
First of all, I think work is starting to get to me. I've got a press deadline on a brochure I'm trying to get done, and right after that I've got another big project to do. I had a dream last night that my deadline for the BIG project was a week away, and I hadn't even started. What do you think having nightmares about work means? That's probably just how my stress manifests itself.
In any case, last night before going home, I went to an orientation meeting for new Primary leaders. Yep - I have a new calling at church, and it doesn't involve the piano. It's so weird. (I'm the secretary.) So I went to this meeting with the presidency from the stake, and I found the whole thing to be quite boring. I don't mean to be irreverent - any calling is important. But I collect the roles every week. Explain to me why I was required to listen to a 30-minute dissertation on the budget for Cub Scouts? In any case, I was wishing that I could just go home and curl up on my couch (and I figured that was the selfish me coming out), when I started studying the woman giving us the dissertation on the Cub Scout budget.
Now, she was the kind of woman that you might find behind the elementary school lunch counter. She had very tightly controlled, short, curly hair (just missing the hair net). She was wearing really old-school clothes, meaning the tight, brilliant blue pants (that showed her bulging knees), a bright floral shirt, and the really comfy-looking black tennis shoes. She wasn't a very slim woman. When she put her glasses on to see, they were the huge kind. I hope you're getting my visual.
I sat and studied her for awhile, almost admiringly. She was very animated and happy. I was thinking about how there's so much more to being happy than being up with the times and looking fashionable. Suddenly, she reached up to her mouth and removed something. She continued to talk animatedly about the Cub Scout budget. Then she started laughing about something, and I got a good look at her mouth...and the item in her hand.
She had just removed her bottom teeth. But it didn't phase her, as she waved her arm around and continued talking. Then she popped them back in when she was done.
For some reason, the whole thing struck me as really strange. But at least it made the meeting go a little faster!