Challenge is Accepted . . . More to Come

Anytime anyone offers me a free backrub to do something, the answer is pretty much going to be "yes". Particularly when that someone is an adorable 25 year old male buddy with wicked hands. I mean, who loses in that situation?

So MHG, you're on. I'll rewrite the Doc's saga with all women players.

Stay tuned.

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife

PS: A quick preview will include a quote stolen from CK . . .

"Dems bitches, bitches."

I Gotta Stop Dreaming

I spend a lot of time fighting in my dreams these days. I wake up exhausted and kind of cranky . . . you don't want to start something with me right after I get out of bed. Even the Dr. is getting bruised and battered from my nighttime brawls.

Most of the dreams have been very ambiguous . . . today they were TOO vivid. And as the day has gone on, more details continue to emerge at the oddest times. Details such as:

• I went to work in my blue shortie pajamas
• One of my partners (that I really respect) was extremely disappointed that I wore my pajamas (I think he thought that I was giving up)
• I responded to the disappointment by taking them off and working naked
• My office managing partner wanted to speak to me in her office (I thought to chastise me about working naked)
• I put on an overcoat before I went to see her, like some flasher
• She didn't want to talk to me about the nakedness at all
• I spent a good portion of my dream sitting on the lap of our area partner (this kind of grossed me out)

At the oddest times, today, those images continue to haunt me.

I need to find a new job quick. Not just before the money runs out. But before the dreams get worse.

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife

The rapper, not the candy . . .

One thing the Dr. and I have in common is that we both love music. We have some shared musical tastes for sure, and are both children of the 80s. He, however, stopped listening to current music somewhere before Ronald Reagan left office. Maybe that explains his politics. That doesn't stop us from enjoying a good debate about the relative attributes of various songs, artists, or types of music.

Tonight, like many nights, I engaged him in some musical discussion. Over sushi, I commented that I had been listening to the radio today and heard a song that I found quite lyrically intriguing and clever. He managed to ask "what was it?" right before he shoved an eel roll in his mouth.

"Lose Yourself. Eminem. The rapper, not the candy."

He gave me puzzled, skeptical look. The rest of the restaurant probably assumed he had some bad sushi. I knew his innate distaste of rap of any kind was inhibiting his ability to see the creative side of it.

I tried to explain, and did so poorly. I had heard the song many times before, but its not something I listen to frequently. However, today, it struck me how cleverly he balances his story-telling and the rhyme. In fact, he rhymes on the beat, and the off-beat. And he doesn't do it at the end of the sentence. I found myself completely engaged in waiting for the next surprise. He really has the cleverness of Shakespeare, just with a little more bass, and maybe slightly more violence (well, maybe not).

DrChako's eyebrows were knitted together as if I had grown an extra head and had just told him I was joining a convent and going to give up my heels in favor of a pair of sensible black Hush Puppies. He wasn't buying it. I begged him to come home and listen to the video on YouTube.

We all watched - his face looked pained. But by the end, he acknowledged the various stories inside the story, and conceded that his rhyming had some skill.

The best part was my son, though . . . he caught it right away, and his eyes lit up . . .

"Now I hear it . . . .
Snap back to reality,
Oh there goes gravity
Oh, there goes Rabbit, he
choked He's so mad, but he
won't give up that easy,
no He won't have it, He . . . "

Its nice to have one more person in my family turned on to the music, listening for something more. The fact that he likes some of the same stuff I do, well, that's just icing on the cupcakes. But catching it that quickly makes me feel proud . . . like we've trained his brain to observe more than the ordinary . . .

Of course, after the video finished, DrChako felt like punching someone. I'm thinking it would be a good workout song . . . although I think I'd have to work hard to resist not doing the hand things . . . .

Enjoy the video . . .



Respectfully submitted,

The Wife

Top Ten Things I Won't Miss

So I'm trying to have a new perspective about this whole announcement . . . so I came up with the top ten things I won't miss . . . (in no particular order)

1. Timesheets and billable hours.
2. Management meetings about scheduling. I care about the schedule and availability of personnel three months from now . . . oh, wait, that's right . . . I don't.
3. Stupid e-mails about signing off on a mid-year self-review. You know, its good for my future development . . . or not so much anymore.
4. My assistant . . . oh wait, I don't have one anymore since the last economic cutbacks we did.
5. Reviewing and projecting my personal schedule in the system for the next three months . . . uh, check with the big guys.
6. Our expense reimbursement being farmed out to India where I get asinine questions about documentation for $5 expenses.
7. E-mails from a hundred different industry subgroups.
8. Trying to be nice to clients who want to pay Kia prices and get Rolls Royce service.
9. Going to meetings to talk about what are next new clients are. Because that impacts me . . . how?
10. Using only approved hotel and car vendors.

Always something positive, right?

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife

Wisdom

From the ancient Chinese wisdome of Kung Fu Panda . . .

The past is history.
Tomorrow is a mystery.
Today is a gift - that's why they call it the present.

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife

Wait . . . I am a Number

In fact, I'm some pretty good numbers.

• 68 - Height, in inches. That's a long, tall drink of Wife-ness.
• 40 - My age, which, although a bit rocky these last few days (weeks? months?) is pretty cool in a lot of ways, most of which involve being young enough to enjoy things (friends, traveling, food, drink, rock and roll, skillets . . . you name it) and being old enough and wise enough to appreciate it without all the other problems of youth (acne, poverty, stupidity)
• 36B - Geez, MHG - they were right there in your face . . . you ought to know.
• 16.5 - Number of years of awesome experience I have to sell to some willing buyer who can recognize my financial accounting talents.
• 9 - My shoe size - which looks fabulous with a pair of 4 1/2 inch Jimmy Choo stilettos, let me tell you.
• 9 - Number of places I've lived in my life (not a single repeating state) - see how flexible and mobile I am?
• 6 - When I'm being good about what I eat, that's my dress size. Work, poor diet, and a few other things are trying to push that upwards. But I'll be back there.
• 4++ - Size of my immediate family, which includes a few extraneous au pairs. I am fortunate to have them.
• 2 - Number of degrees I have.
• 2 - Number of children that call me "Mom." They can't ever downsize you from that role or take that title away.
• 1 - Number of abdominal scars I have to have earned me the previous title.
• 1 - Number of patient, understanding husbands I have that put up with my last few years of crap, including this last zinger, and still call me friend.
• 0 - Number of fantastic friends, virtual or otherwise, that I'd give up in times like these.

Don't get me wrong - being part of a "capacity reduction" still sucks. The numbers just look better than they did yesterday.

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife

Not Just a Number

Today, I am just a number.

It has seemed like a family for a long time. However, in today's economic times, it has reverted to its lowest common denominator, and it has become the machine. And today, to the machine, I am just a number.

Fortunately, for me, even though the machine no longer feels like family, I still have a real family. Some came to me through the ties of blood. Some through the bonds of marriage. Some I created myself, who carry little bits of my DNA. And some of you who through accidental threads of friendship across the miles have woven themselves into an extended family that stretches from coast to coast and across borders.

So to those of you who have called, or sent words of encouragement, thank you. For family members from afar who call when they should be worried about their own troubles, thank you.

And for those of you who took the time to remind me today that regardless of what the numbers say, I'm still the best at what I do, thank you.

To the machine, I may be just a number.

But elsewhere, I am still the professional. the writer. The friend. The daughter. The mother.

I am The Wife

Respectfully submitted.