The Contessa's New Reality

"Over Sensitive" or 'Too Sensitive" I've heard that I'm too much of these all of my life.  It's always said in a derogatory fashion, as if this is a bad thing. It's taken a while, but I don't think the level of sensitivity is the problem. The reaction that I have to that sensitivity is. It took me until, well, this week, to really figure that out. John used to say it all the time, You aren't over sensitive, you are the right amount of sensitive for who you are. I've always thought it was sweet for him to try and phrase it in a nicer way, but the reality is, I've had too many years of hearing it as a negative personality trait to be able to see it as a positive one. I've been dealing with a lot of situations that have me feeling emotionally raw and exposed of late.  In trying to sort them out and make sense of what works for me and what doesn't, I got seriously frustrated and angry  What did I do in the heat of batt...

He's back. Since he never left, I should say, he's starting with me again.  All this time, I've just managed to pull a feint and dodge him. Repeatedly. I'm getting fairly adept at feinting and dodging my tormentor.  "They" say that one should stand up to their bully because bullies only respond to strength.  I suppose if I felt stronger, I could just stand up to him once and for all.  Maybe.  Or maybe it has nothing to do with strength. I've known my tormentor from birth and he's been tormenting me in some fashion, all of my life.  But after John died, he became ruthless, relentless and merciless.  Taking whatever pleasure he could from my pain. Over and over again. Let me introduce you to my tormentor, Anxiety.  Now, you might be saying, "Hey - wait just one minute. How on earth does he have time to bully you when he is so busy bullying me?" That's a fair and great question.  I personally think it's because he has toadie...

I need to do something.  Anything.  My work life is really amazing - I mean it's so much more than I had envisioned. Here comes the "But...." I hate Thursday.  Second only to Mondays, which everyone hates, Thursday is a nightmare for me.  I have a crazy inbox.  I mean,  we really conduct the majority of our business through the inbox. I need to hold myself to a four hour response time.  My region is crazy - So - you can imagine how a regular weekday goes. I handle it pretty well overall but in all honesty, I'm putting easily 12-15 hours more per week than I should be, just to stay on top of it.  "Should" meaning, it's not good for me to be putting that kind of time in as opposed to "should"  meaning, I'm not capable of getting the work done.  So in an effort not to "should" myself ( an old WW term),  I've decided to enable some technology changes to my Thursday. I took a look back at the last 2 months of Thursda...

Lavender - the smell, the color My boo - 15 years of smiles with this sweet feline My nieces and nephews - they all make me laugh and smile pretty regularly.  Good coffee.  My morning ritual is set up around my coffee in an effort to make the day the best it can be.  Good wine.  Similar to good coffee, just not for breakfast.  A good band rehearsal.  When Angel, Steph, Jeannie and I are making music, it's amazing.  I frequently cry when it's that good.  My choir.  I'm ever proud of this group.  We work hard and attack some very challenging music.  When we are singing, I can smile and revel in it.   John.  I smile at the memories.   UB and Roy - I smile and laugh at those memories.  My fountain - I smile every time I walk into the foyer.   Capricio Espagnole by Rimsky Korsakov.  Almost anything by John Rutter The ocean The beach lunches with Jenna, Rebecca and Jeannie The ...

This past 12 months have been weird. This year has taught me some major life lessons.  With the 5 year anniversary coming up, I feel that John would want me to honor them by articulating them for others. First, I want to start by saying that I believe that I can survive almost anything. I'm not talking about cheating death and I'm not saying whatever it is won't change me or leave some kind of after effect. I'm saying that I can survive.  When John died, I was convinced that I would be following in the days after.  My broken heart was debilitating.  I mean, down right, debilitating.  I knew other widows and widowers and frankly, I was confused by how they were walking around, talking, breathing, and functioning . Then one day, John's best friend, Roybert and I were having a conversation.  This was very early on.  He, a widower, told me that we were all just walking single file in the dark.  Time didn't matter, and he was only a few steps ahe...