I have been a little tired and impatient lately. I think dealing with crazy co-workers and retarded customer service personnel is exhausting. Especially if it goes on for weeks at a time. Just last night, I was thinking that I need to take a couple of days off. Unfortunately, with our vacation policies and work and the projects I'm working on, I couldn't imagine asking for this time off until at least late next week.
So you can imagine my glee when I checked my email early this morning and had an email from Sherry (my manager), telling me I deserved a day off and to start my weekend on Thursday. I tried to think of what I have could have done to impress her so much in the past few weeks. I couldn't think of anything before paranoia (experience) kicked in.
You see, my previous employer insisted I go to Iran to attend my brother's wedding five years ago. He kept saying how I HAD to go, despite the fact that we were beyond broke and I couldn't afford the ticket home, much less the gifts, clothes, etc. that would be necessary as part of the trip. The worst part was, about 10 days into my two week trip, my generous employer called during the day and left a message on the answering machine saying my services were no longer needed. I have reason to be paranoid.
I called Sherry later in the day and after some small talk, asked her if there was anything she wanted to discuss with me. "No. Do you know how you're going to spend your day off?" I thought a moment and said, "Not yet. Are you sure you don't want to tell me anything? Because the last time something like this happened I was unemployed after my relaxation." She laughed and told me to enjoy the weekend, not check my email, voicemail or project updates.
I really like my manager.
What will I do with myself tomorrow? Run, donate blood, pay bills, have lunch on the beach with M and hopefully cook.
Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Everybody Knows, the World Is Full of Stupid People
The last two days have been trying my patience. Yes, you're right, patience has never been one of my virtues--so you can imagine how delightful I am when I people go out of their way to test my patience. The worst part is, they weren't confined to one place. EVERY call I made yesterday and today spiraled into new circles of hell. I won't bore you with the story of the travel agent that yelled at me for telling her the numbers on our receipt didn't add up before she hung up on me. Nor will I bore you with the story of the lady at the bank who told me there was no way to prove an electronic payment had been processed. I will start with the crazy woman who started all of this.
I called our HOA to ask them why they keep sending me statements with past due fees and multiple monthly charges when I make my payments each month. After getting passed around to everyone in their building, I was eventually 'helped' by Cathy. Below is a sample of our conversation:
"Hi Cathy. My bank statement indicates that I have made my monthly payments on time, but every month, my statement has late fees."
"Ok. Do you have the canceled check to prove you made the payment?"
"Well, no. I make pre-scheduled electronic payments each month."
"So you don't have a check number or canceled check?"
"No, it's an electronic payment that get's deposited to the HOA's account each month. I've been doing the same thing for the past four years."
"Well ma'am, if you haven't sent a check on time you will be charged late fees. Do you need the address to send us the check?"
"No, Cathy. I have already sent my payment electronically. There seems to be a misunderstanding. What kind of documentation do you need me to provide you to remove these charges."
"Ma'am, if you haven't paid, we can't remove the charges. If you had sent us a check--which you say you haven't--you would have to provide a copy of the front and back of the canceled check."
"Well, how do you handle electronic payments?"
"MA'AM, you need to send us a copy of the the front and back of the canceled check. Otherwise, you have to pay your monthly fees, plus any extra late fees."
(As a side note, I was quite irritated early in the discussion, especially since one of my co-workers kept laughing at my explanations.)
"But Cathy, there is no canceled check. I'll have to ask the bank for some kind of document. Could you please tell me what I can provide to resolve this problem?"
"I have already told you, you need to send a copy of the front and back of the check you say you have sent us."
Breathe.
"I see. So once I get that document, should I mail it, fax it or email it to you?"
"Yes."
"Which one?"
"The front and back of the canceled check."
"So a copy of the canceled check emailed to you?"
"Front and back to us immediately."
"Thanks, Cathy."
It was around this time that I missed having the old fashioned phones that you could bang on the holder. This woman literally made me wonder how she has made it alive to her workplace. I mean, don't you think she would have died trying to figure out the toaster?
The worst part? Of all of the people I have spoken to since talking with her yesterday, she wasn't the dumbest or the rudest. Do you feel my pain?
I am hoping my week gets better, but I'm not very optimistic.
I called our HOA to ask them why they keep sending me statements with past due fees and multiple monthly charges when I make my payments each month. After getting passed around to everyone in their building, I was eventually 'helped' by Cathy. Below is a sample of our conversation:
"Hi Cathy. My bank statement indicates that I have made my monthly payments on time, but every month, my statement has late fees."
"Ok. Do you have the canceled check to prove you made the payment?"
"Well, no. I make pre-scheduled electronic payments each month."
"So you don't have a check number or canceled check?"
"No, it's an electronic payment that get's deposited to the HOA's account each month. I've been doing the same thing for the past four years."
"Well ma'am, if you haven't sent a check on time you will be charged late fees. Do you need the address to send us the check?"
"No, Cathy. I have already sent my payment electronically. There seems to be a misunderstanding. What kind of documentation do you need me to provide you to remove these charges."
"Ma'am, if you haven't paid, we can't remove the charges. If you had sent us a check--which you say you haven't--you would have to provide a copy of the front and back of the canceled check."
"Well, how do you handle electronic payments?"
"MA'AM, you need to send us a copy of the the front and back of the canceled check. Otherwise, you have to pay your monthly fees, plus any extra late fees."
(As a side note, I was quite irritated early in the discussion, especially since one of my co-workers kept laughing at my explanations.)
"But Cathy, there is no canceled check. I'll have to ask the bank for some kind of document. Could you please tell me what I can provide to resolve this problem?"
"I have already told you, you need to send a copy of the front and back of the check you say you have sent us."
Breathe.
"I see. So once I get that document, should I mail it, fax it or email it to you?"
"Yes."
"Which one?"
"The front and back of the canceled check."
"So a copy of the canceled check emailed to you?"
"Front and back to us immediately."
"Thanks, Cathy."
It was around this time that I missed having the old fashioned phones that you could bang on the holder. This woman literally made me wonder how she has made it alive to her workplace. I mean, don't you think she would have died trying to figure out the toaster?
The worst part? Of all of the people I have spoken to since talking with her yesterday, she wasn't the dumbest or the rudest. Do you feel my pain?
I am hoping my week gets better, but I'm not very optimistic.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
It's A Beautiful Day
I have three blisters, two weak ankles, a shaky knee and a heel that shoots pain up my leg every time I put my foot down. And it was a beautiful day in San Diego.
I haven't trained or gone to the gym since last Tuesday. Every morning since June 19th , I wake up with a slow smile thinking my right heel no longer hurts. The smile would be quickly replaced with a frustrated groan as soon as I moved my leg, because frankly, it wasn't just my heel that hurt. Everything in my right foot and ankle ached, and as soon as I put my foot down, a sharp pain would shoot up my leg. I'm tired of thinking of insignificant aches that interfere with my ability to run but don't seem especially serious. After wearing flats and barely walking all week, I broke down and made an appointment with the Team recommended chiropractor, despite the fact that I have no faith in chiropractors. All of the TNT alumni say he is a miracle worker--so I'm going to see him on Monday. That was not going to help me on my Saturday run--which at this point is giving me performance anxiety.
I woke up this morning with the same optimistic smile. I winced as soon as I put my foot down. In case you're wondering, a formula for a bad day for me is: going to bed late+waking up very early+pain shooting up my leg every time I move+social requirement to be cheerful at Honor Team Mate picnic.
Yet, I got dressed, packed up a tub of pasta and found my team all before 7 am. I warmed up and stretched with everyone and started running. The good news is that as of today, I have found a group of people who run at approximately my pace. They have the same strong commitment to running 5-2 intervals. They love early mornings as much as I do. I think I have just found a new group of friends. And I ran. For 5 miles. Despite my painful heel, the developing blisters and the knee (which just may be my next injury in the making) I ran five miles (with mostly 5-2 intervals the whole way). I just about did the happy dance when I was done. Today, I was cheering my fellow teammates on as the got close to the finishing point. I helped one of the mentors make a bridge and cheered people as they wrapped up their runs. I wobbled my way around and tried to meet people. I felt wonderful.
The weather helped. Unlike last Saturday's sweltering heat, it was cool and a little overcast. It stayed that way until everyone was back from their run. Then the clouds politely dispersed just in time for our picnic.
All in all, it was a beautiful day. The picnic was fun and provided a chance to meet some of our honor team mates as well as the chance to talk to our mentors and coaches--most of whom have more than just a training commitment to what we're doing.
And if all of that wasn't fun enough, Manda has some good news. Hurray!
I haven't trained or gone to the gym since last Tuesday. Every morning since June 19th , I wake up with a slow smile thinking my right heel no longer hurts. The smile would be quickly replaced with a frustrated groan as soon as I moved my leg, because frankly, it wasn't just my heel that hurt. Everything in my right foot and ankle ached, and as soon as I put my foot down, a sharp pain would shoot up my leg. I'm tired of thinking of insignificant aches that interfere with my ability to run but don't seem especially serious. After wearing flats and barely walking all week, I broke down and made an appointment with the Team recommended chiropractor, despite the fact that I have no faith in chiropractors. All of the TNT alumni say he is a miracle worker--so I'm going to see him on Monday. That was not going to help me on my Saturday run--which at this point is giving me performance anxiety.
I woke up this morning with the same optimistic smile. I winced as soon as I put my foot down. In case you're wondering, a formula for a bad day for me is: going to bed late+waking up very early+pain shooting up my leg every time I move+social requirement to be cheerful at Honor Team Mate picnic.
Yet, I got dressed, packed up a tub of pasta and found my team all before 7 am. I warmed up and stretched with everyone and started running. The good news is that as of today, I have found a group of people who run at approximately my pace. They have the same strong commitment to running 5-2 intervals. They love early mornings as much as I do. I think I have just found a new group of friends. And I ran. For 5 miles. Despite my painful heel, the developing blisters and the knee (which just may be my next injury in the making) I ran five miles (with mostly 5-2 intervals the whole way). I just about did the happy dance when I was done. Today, I was cheering my fellow teammates on as the got close to the finishing point. I helped one of the mentors make a bridge and cheered people as they wrapped up their runs. I wobbled my way around and tried to meet people. I felt wonderful.
The weather helped. Unlike last Saturday's sweltering heat, it was cool and a little overcast. It stayed that way until everyone was back from their run. Then the clouds politely dispersed just in time for our picnic.
All in all, it was a beautiful day. The picnic was fun and provided a chance to meet some of our honor team mates as well as the chance to talk to our mentors and coaches--most of whom have more than just a training commitment to what we're doing.
And if all of that wasn't fun enough, Manda has some good news. Hurray!
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Guess Who's Coming?
My grandmother has an interview at the US Embassy next month. I'm excited for a number of reasons, the first of which, I haven't seen her in about six years. More than anything, I'm excited for her. She spent 10 years splitting nursing duties with my mom, caring for my grandfather after he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease. After my grandfather passed, my family tried to arrange for her to come to the US to see my youngest cousin for the first time. She was rejected by the embassy, because it seems 70-something year old women with a penchant for high heeled shoes and shopping posed a threat to the American way of life. She had to travel to Dubai to see her son, daughter-in-law and granddaughter. Repeatedly. She kept promising my cousin that one day, she would cook for her and do all the things she had done with all of the other granddaughters.
It took a while (almost three years) but she is getting a little closer to coming.
And when she comes, there will be a role reversal--I will be cooking for her, telling her stories and taking her shopping. This makes me smile, considering how my early childhood days were spent basking in her love and attention.
There is something else that makes me smile in anticipation--knowing there will be stories. She's an amazing, smart, strong, funny, flawed and slightly crazy woman. I get a few shades of my crazy from her. I don't have to look too far to see where I got my curious hair, ridiculous vanity, insane need for perfection and occasional sense of jealousy. And while this may sound like a parade of flaws, I assure you, it makes for a delightful person. Or at least an entertaining grandmother/infuriating mother. My poor mom can't spend a day with her and not call me in desperation. I'll actually share one of the more recent favorites:
My mom went back to Iran about a year ago. Among the gifts she got my grandmother as is our tradition, were a pair of practical walking shoes. Appropriate for a fragile older lady, something my mom actually liked (even though she's in her early 50s). When she gave my grandmother the shoes, fully expecting a joyous reaction (she bought her mom shoes after all, right?), she saw tears gathering in my grandmother's eyes.
"Do you like them? Don't they fit?"
"They fit.", Mamman mumbled.
"Then what's wrong?"
"I don't understand! Why do you keep buying me old lady shoes?! I'm not old! Why do you want to dress me up like I'm too old to wear nice clothes?!"
I had warned my mom that Mamman wouldn't like them, and I couldn't stop laughing at the mental image of my Mamman crying at the insult of getting orthopedic shoes from my mom who thought she was doing something thoughtful and age appropriate.
Yes, so this is who will be hopefully visiting me in a few months. And I have every intention of writing some more stories about her soon, when I'm less sleepy.
It took a while (almost three years) but she is getting a little closer to coming.
And when she comes, there will be a role reversal--I will be cooking for her, telling her stories and taking her shopping. This makes me smile, considering how my early childhood days were spent basking in her love and attention.
There is something else that makes me smile in anticipation--knowing there will be stories. She's an amazing, smart, strong, funny, flawed and slightly crazy woman. I get a few shades of my crazy from her. I don't have to look too far to see where I got my curious hair, ridiculous vanity, insane need for perfection and occasional sense of jealousy. And while this may sound like a parade of flaws, I assure you, it makes for a delightful person. Or at least an entertaining grandmother/infuriating mother. My poor mom can't spend a day with her and not call me in desperation. I'll actually share one of the more recent favorites:
My mom went back to Iran about a year ago. Among the gifts she got my grandmother as is our tradition, were a pair of practical walking shoes. Appropriate for a fragile older lady, something my mom actually liked (even though she's in her early 50s). When she gave my grandmother the shoes, fully expecting a joyous reaction (she bought her mom shoes after all, right?), she saw tears gathering in my grandmother's eyes.
"Do you like them? Don't they fit?"
"They fit.", Mamman mumbled.
"Then what's wrong?"
"I don't understand! Why do you keep buying me old lady shoes?! I'm not old! Why do you want to dress me up like I'm too old to wear nice clothes?!"
I had warned my mom that Mamman wouldn't like them, and I couldn't stop laughing at the mental image of my Mamman crying at the insult of getting orthopedic shoes from my mom who thought she was doing something thoughtful and age appropriate.
Yes, so this is who will be hopefully visiting me in a few months. And I have every intention of writing some more stories about her soon, when I'm less sleepy.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Passive Regressive
Some time around 9:30 Saturday morning, I leaned against the public bathroom wall at Mission Bay and cried. I was so angry I ignored my disgusting environment. I was making a scene, which made me even angrier.
I had prepared to join a higher running group that morning. I was a little sleepy, but excited. Mission Bay was the least hilly run we had had yet, and if I could run the 4 mile UCSD perimeter, I could run the 5 mile path. Or so I thought. What I had envisioned as a steady paced jog, turned into an exercise in futility. My body would.not.move. I could barely run, much less keep up with the B Group that had gracefully run past me. Nor could I keep up with the A Group to which I belonged. After the first 2 1/2 miles, I could barely walk. It did not help to see a partially paralyzed, elderly man speed walk past me. Three times.
I thought after a month I would be making progress and adding miles. I thought I'd be able to run at least a couple of miles at a time and embracing the idea of a thirteen mile run. I was not ready to walk two and a half miles to join a cheerful team as they laughed and celebrated their progress. I was frustrated with my regression and inability to move; ashamed of the fact that I couldn't keep a promise I had made; and afraid I would fail. While I really don't want to be the last person to cross the finish line, I don't want to collapse and not cross the finish line altogether.
I know this is not about me, but that is why I cannot sit back and joke about being left in the dust of an octogenarian. THREE TIMES. I am running with men and women who have beaten death and laugh at pain. And I have no excuse to walk behind; even less excuse to cry about it. But I do.
I was insufferable all weekend. Poor M tried to cheer and encourage me, mostly to no avail. He bought me a Stick (which helped the soreness in my calves), made me breakfast and offered to go running with my on Sunday. I did not want to run--especially with someone who can run 8 miles through canyon trails. I wanted to hide from every single person who knew I was training. I spent Sunday sorting through papers and hanging out with my friend.
Monday morning, I woke up a little past 5:30. I made coffee, read the news, answered emails and didn't get ready to run. M woke up a little after 7 and asked if I was going to go running.
"No. I don't want to run ever again. I don't want to talk about running."
"That's ok. Maybe you need to take a few days off..."
Before he could finish, I was getting dressed to go. I ran 3 miles in about 35 minutes, stopping for three walking intervals.
I haven't given up yet.
I had prepared to join a higher running group that morning. I was a little sleepy, but excited. Mission Bay was the least hilly run we had had yet, and if I could run the 4 mile UCSD perimeter, I could run the 5 mile path. Or so I thought. What I had envisioned as a steady paced jog, turned into an exercise in futility. My body would.not.move. I could barely run, much less keep up with the B Group that had gracefully run past me. Nor could I keep up with the A Group to which I belonged. After the first 2 1/2 miles, I could barely walk. It did not help to see a partially paralyzed, elderly man speed walk past me. Three times.
I thought after a month I would be making progress and adding miles. I thought I'd be able to run at least a couple of miles at a time and embracing the idea of a thirteen mile run. I was not ready to walk two and a half miles to join a cheerful team as they laughed and celebrated their progress. I was frustrated with my regression and inability to move; ashamed of the fact that I couldn't keep a promise I had made; and afraid I would fail. While I really don't want to be the last person to cross the finish line, I don't want to collapse and not cross the finish line altogether.
I know this is not about me, but that is why I cannot sit back and joke about being left in the dust of an octogenarian. THREE TIMES. I am running with men and women who have beaten death and laugh at pain. And I have no excuse to walk behind; even less excuse to cry about it. But I do.
I was insufferable all weekend. Poor M tried to cheer and encourage me, mostly to no avail. He bought me a Stick (which helped the soreness in my calves), made me breakfast and offered to go running with my on Sunday. I did not want to run--especially with someone who can run 8 miles through canyon trails. I wanted to hide from every single person who knew I was training. I spent Sunday sorting through papers and hanging out with my friend.
Monday morning, I woke up a little past 5:30. I made coffee, read the news, answered emails and didn't get ready to run. M woke up a little after 7 and asked if I was going to go running.
"No. I don't want to run ever again. I don't want to talk about running."
"That's ok. Maybe you need to take a few days off..."
Before he could finish, I was getting dressed to go. I ran 3 miles in about 35 minutes, stopping for three walking intervals.
I haven't given up yet.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Grace in Motion
I have officially had my first and second sports related injuries while training:
As I was buying my running shoes last weekend, I was so excited that I jammed my finger between my heel and the shoe. I bent my weak nail so far back, my finger started bleeding. In shoes I hadn't tried on yet. The look of horror on my face just made the lady next to me laugh, especially because I tried to casually brush it off as a broken nail. It really wasn't that funny. Although, on the way home, I did think it was the kind of thing that would happen to TK--which made it a little less painful.
I tried to swim today. It would have gone better if I hadn't been so enthusiastic. So enthusiastic, that I pushed myself away from the wall with all my force and scraped my chest area along the bottom of the pool. The good news is, my chest area helped me bounce a little and saved my head from hitting the bottom of the pool. The bad news is, I am sore in a place I totally didn't anticipate hurting while swimming.
This may be why I was never the athletic type.
As I was buying my running shoes last weekend, I was so excited that I jammed my finger between my heel and the shoe. I bent my weak nail so far back, my finger started bleeding. In shoes I hadn't tried on yet. The look of horror on my face just made the lady next to me laugh, especially because I tried to casually brush it off as a broken nail. It really wasn't that funny. Although, on the way home, I did think it was the kind of thing that would happen to TK--which made it a little less painful.
I tried to swim today. It would have gone better if I hadn't been so enthusiastic. So enthusiastic, that I pushed myself away from the wall with all my force and scraped my chest area along the bottom of the pool. The good news is, my chest area helped me bounce a little and saved my head from hitting the bottom of the pool. The bad news is, I am sore in a place I totally didn't anticipate hurting while swimming.
This may be why I was never the athletic type.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
A Runner's Life for Me
I am a new woman.
I am pretty sure I can never tell my mom about my attempts at running a half marathon. If I did, I'd have to confess that Amanda has inspired me to do two things that she could not achieve in 34 years: she couldn't get me to wake up early or exercise with any regularity. And now, thanks to Amanda, I do both. For the past two weeks, I have been waking up between 5-5:15 everyday. Most days, without my alarm going off. Twice a week, I get up, get dressed and go running with my mid-week teams. Other days, I go into work earlier than I ever have so I can leave early and meet the evening running teams. This is my schedule every day, but Sundays, where I sleep in until 7. It is another one of my life's little ironies that I cannot share with my mom this little tidbit that would bring her so much joy.
I have learned however that getting up and driving to a beach trail does not imply a state of awareness. Take this past Monday for example. I got up and drove to the Torrey Pines Lodge, parked my car and greeted my team. We stretched, warmed up and proceeded to run approximately 4 miles in 3-1 intervals (I was able to run 7-2 intervals for most of the way). As we made our way back to the cars, all I could think of was the Cliff Bar in my bag. However, as I approached the car, I realized something didn't look quite right. Perhaps it was the driver's side door that was left wide open, making it easy for any potential car thieves to easily enter and make themselves comfortable. The funny thing is that the doors were locked, just left ajar. I consider it my contribution to the joy of my morning running mates...
On a serious note: I am so overwhelmed and honored by everyone's help and contributions. I appreciate your faith in my abilities and your generosity. I am meeting survivors whose enthusiasm is contagious, volunteers who come to support us and family members who are thanking us for our efforts. It makes early mornings and shin splints trite, and almost anything possible.
With the exception of today's painful run, I am able to run 1.5 miles at a time, but almost 4.5 with intervals. This is a much more realistic goal than my initial plan of running miles at a time. My intervals are increasing (longer runs, same length walks) as is the distance that I'm running. I need to address the shin splints that are the biggest limiting factor right now, but they are getting a little better.
If you have any suggestions to actually be awake in the morning or run/jog more effectively, please share. If you can't believe that I abandoned my open-doored car for an hour on a holiday morning, I have a bunch of witnesses who are probably still laughing at me. And seriously, why would I make this up?
I am pretty sure I can never tell my mom about my attempts at running a half marathon. If I did, I'd have to confess that Amanda has inspired me to do two things that she could not achieve in 34 years: she couldn't get me to wake up early or exercise with any regularity. And now, thanks to Amanda, I do both. For the past two weeks, I have been waking up between 5-5:15 everyday. Most days, without my alarm going off. Twice a week, I get up, get dressed and go running with my mid-week teams. Other days, I go into work earlier than I ever have so I can leave early and meet the evening running teams. This is my schedule every day, but Sundays, where I sleep in until 7. It is another one of my life's little ironies that I cannot share with my mom this little tidbit that would bring her so much joy.
I have learned however that getting up and driving to a beach trail does not imply a state of awareness. Take this past Monday for example. I got up and drove to the Torrey Pines Lodge, parked my car and greeted my team. We stretched, warmed up and proceeded to run approximately 4 miles in 3-1 intervals (I was able to run 7-2 intervals for most of the way). As we made our way back to the cars, all I could think of was the Cliff Bar in my bag. However, as I approached the car, I realized something didn't look quite right. Perhaps it was the driver's side door that was left wide open, making it easy for any potential car thieves to easily enter and make themselves comfortable. The funny thing is that the doors were locked, just left ajar. I consider it my contribution to the joy of my morning running mates...
On a serious note: I am so overwhelmed and honored by everyone's help and contributions. I appreciate your faith in my abilities and your generosity. I am meeting survivors whose enthusiasm is contagious, volunteers who come to support us and family members who are thanking us for our efforts. It makes early mornings and shin splints trite, and almost anything possible.
With the exception of today's painful run, I am able to run 1.5 miles at a time, but almost 4.5 with intervals. This is a much more realistic goal than my initial plan of running miles at a time. My intervals are increasing (longer runs, same length walks) as is the distance that I'm running. I need to address the shin splints that are the biggest limiting factor right now, but they are getting a little better.
If you have any suggestions to actually be awake in the morning or run/jog more effectively, please share. If you can't believe that I abandoned my open-doored car for an hour on a holiday morning, I have a bunch of witnesses who are probably still laughing at me. And seriously, why would I make this up?
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