of bed and headed to the kitchen. Giving a sideways glance as I passed the hall mirror, I shrugged at my reflection: Lightweight flannel robe (mint green striped), jersey pajamas (lavender polka-dot print), and worn brown-fleece slippers that doubled as snuggle bunnies for Cody when I wasn’t home.
“No drama in that scene,” I muttered with Cody at my heels.
“Morning, buddy boy. How ’bout some yummy breakfast?” I placed a dollop of Greek yogurt on top of Cody’s kibble because sometimes, like anyone, he needs a treat.
Pouring a steaming cup, I settled at the breakfast bar. I started leafing through a stack of papers that seemed unimportant, then paused at a familiar scrap.
Scanning it, I wondered where my head was when I wrote it. What the hell did I mean by “House?” I added a few question marks in red and moved on. What was I smoking when I wrote “New car?” I put a line through that one, scratched out “Vacation!” and underlined “Grandkids;” time spent with them is my vacation, and I couldn’t wait to plan their trip to Colorado. Skipping over “New man?” had more to do with superstition than shrewdness. After all, I might jinx the possibility of a man coming into my life, “or snatch,” I sarcastically said out loud.
Nodding to myself, I approved the changes,
Personal
House???
Grandkids
Vacation!
New car?
New man? Yeah, right…
I moved on to the other, less interesting column. Funny, the “asshole” boss had since moved on to greener pastures and a bigger asshole had taken his place, a woman with a strained face that twitched at the corners of her mouth. I scratched out that line and wrote “TBD.” I scrolled down and stopped at “New job—start looking?” My new boss was difficult, to put it mildly, but she wasn’t a reason to leave. Honestly, I couldn’t remember what led me to think about looking for a new job…could have been hormones. I scratched that one out with intention.
I took a look at my work before accepting the revisions,
Professional
Asshole boss –TBD
New project – ugh!
Staff reorg
Raise??
New job – start looking
It was time to move on to more exciting plans so, filling the monster green mug for round two, I grabbed my laptop. Logging on to my Frontier Airlines account, I realized I had enough miles for a free fare. Giddy, I began booking two round-trip tickets. Frontier is one of the most kid-friendly airlines I’d worked with, primarily because children over five can travel unaccompanied. I’d been flying the twins out since they’d reached that age. I clicked on “find flights” and plugged in a route from San Diego to Denver. I selected July 1 as the departure and July 15 as their return. Two full weeks with Timmy and Lisbeth was hardly enough, but it suited my work schedule and Carrie’s anxiety level, which rose exponentially after the fourteen-day mark. I didn’t blame her and was grateful she trusted me.
Smiling, I confirmed the purchase then hollered, “Okay, kiddos, Nana’s house, here you come.”
Thrilled it was Saturday, I indulged in a third cup of coffee. I’d had a particularly difficult week with my new boss settling in; most of my team wasn’t entirely convinced they liked her and, though I had similar reservations, I couldn’t let them show. Consequently, not a whole lot of work got done, which frustrated the hell out of me.
I rinsed my green mug and left it in the sink; I’d get to it and all my other chores later. I thought about fixing oatmeal but decided otherwise. There was a really good breakfast place in the shopping center a few blocks away, so I threw on my cargo shorts and a t-shirt, along with my beefy sandals that I often hiked in. I topped off my casual look with Jack’s old ball cap, something I’d kept around as a reminder, now a part of my weekend wardrobe. I coated my face with sunscreen, opting to leave my legs alone. I needed a little color and it was still fairly early in the day, a
“No drama in that scene,” I muttered with Cody at my heels.
“Morning, buddy boy. How ’bout some yummy breakfast?” I placed a dollop of Greek yogurt on top of Cody’s kibble because sometimes, like anyone, he needs a treat.
Pouring a steaming cup, I settled at the breakfast bar. I started leafing through a stack of papers that seemed unimportant, then paused at a familiar scrap.
Scanning it, I wondered where my head was when I wrote it. What the hell did I mean by “House?” I added a few question marks in red and moved on. What was I smoking when I wrote “New car?” I put a line through that one, scratched out “Vacation!” and underlined “Grandkids;” time spent with them is my vacation, and I couldn’t wait to plan their trip to Colorado. Skipping over “New man?” had more to do with superstition than shrewdness. After all, I might jinx the possibility of a man coming into my life, “or snatch,” I sarcastically said out loud.
Nodding to myself, I approved the changes,
Personal
House???
Grandkids
Vacation!
New car?
New man? Yeah, right…
I moved on to the other, less interesting column. Funny, the “asshole” boss had since moved on to greener pastures and a bigger asshole had taken his place, a woman with a strained face that twitched at the corners of her mouth. I scratched out that line and wrote “TBD.” I scrolled down and stopped at “New job—start looking?” My new boss was difficult, to put it mildly, but she wasn’t a reason to leave. Honestly, I couldn’t remember what led me to think about looking for a new job…could have been hormones. I scratched that one out with intention.
I took a look at my work before accepting the revisions,
Professional
Asshole boss –TBD
New project – ugh!
Staff reorg
Raise??
New job – start looking
It was time to move on to more exciting plans so, filling the monster green mug for round two, I grabbed my laptop. Logging on to my Frontier Airlines account, I realized I had enough miles for a free fare. Giddy, I began booking two round-trip tickets. Frontier is one of the most kid-friendly airlines I’d worked with, primarily because children over five can travel unaccompanied. I’d been flying the twins out since they’d reached that age. I clicked on “find flights” and plugged in a route from San Diego to Denver. I selected July 1 as the departure and July 15 as their return. Two full weeks with Timmy and Lisbeth was hardly enough, but it suited my work schedule and Carrie’s anxiety level, which rose exponentially after the fourteen-day mark. I didn’t blame her and was grateful she trusted me.
Smiling, I confirmed the purchase then hollered, “Okay, kiddos, Nana’s house, here you come.”
Thrilled it was Saturday, I indulged in a third cup of coffee. I’d had a particularly difficult week with my new boss settling in; most of my team wasn’t entirely convinced they liked her and, though I had similar reservations, I couldn’t let them show. Consequently, not a whole lot of work got done, which frustrated the hell out of me.
I rinsed my green mug and left it in the sink; I’d get to it and all my other chores later. I thought about fixing oatmeal but decided otherwise. There was a really good breakfast place in the shopping center a few blocks away, so I threw on my cargo shorts and a t-shirt, along with my beefy sandals that I often hiked in. I topped off my casual look with Jack’s old ball cap, something I’d kept around as a reminder, now a part of my weekend wardrobe. I coated my face with sunscreen, opting to leave my legs alone. I needed a little color and it was still fairly early in the day, a
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