Hurry Up and Wait; or, The Dirty Laundry Perspective

Several years ago when I was still working in Austin, I had a friend who invited a few of us teacher colleagues to her house for lunch and laughs. We had a great time, and one of the funniest exchanges went something like this:

Hostess: My husband's great, I just wish he'd turn his clothes right side out before he sorts them into the color or white laundry bins. 

Rest of us, picking our jaws up off the floor: Um, your husband actually puts his laundry in the dirty clothes bin??? 

***please note, my own laundry currently sits on the floor next to the bin. I'm not throwing stones or anything***

It just goes to show, sometimes you need a little perspective in life. To one person, dirty clothes not turned right side out is a big deal; to others, just getting the clothes in the bin is a major victory.

Life's like that here, too.

Island life has its perks. Beautiful weather occurs year-round---if you like sunshine, and I definitely do. It's not too humid and there's usually a light breeze. There are several beaches within a few miles of the house. Diving is relatively cheap here. There are no fresh fish at the one grocery store, but if you look hard enough, you'll find someone willing to take you fishing (or at least give you hints about the best fishing spots). Traffic is slow. Iguanas cause traffic jams, which never last more than 5 minutes. If you wear shorts and/or flip flops to work, nobody bats an eye. You keep sunscreen and bug spray in your car at all times because you'll need both.

It's not a total Jimmy Buffet relaxed lifestyle, however, because you are expected to work and produce in an island environment the same as you would on the mainland.

Yearly training modules---8 or 9  modules about everything from terrorism awareness to what we can do/say while on the job (especially about politics) to privacy training are unique to anyone working in a government job. We have a paid half day off work to get these trainings done, which would be generous in any other location, but when you have to do all these trainings online---and many are videos that take hours to load on our internet---my colleagues and I feel the stress of our "island life" when we are measured the same as anyone else with our jobs at any other worldwide location.

If my kids want to participate in Halloween, they have to decide by mid-September about costumes because they have to be ordered online (same with candy, unless you want the very limited selection available at our one store). Kids being kids (and fickle) get stressed out in early October when they realize that they can't change their minds.

I ordered Christmas gifts in mid November last year (forget about "black Friday" sales online), and some still didn't make it until after the holiday.

In light of "hurry up and wait," I try to keep things in perspective.

I was feeling down last week because I missed my grandmother's 90th birthday celebration. You're probably thinking I'm lucky that in my mid-40s, I still have a grandmother. She's sharp as a tack and very independent. I missed her birthday, but I've had her around to help guide me through my entire life. How many people can say that?

My youthful grandmother in Natchez, MS. 

My house, which is smaller than any other we've lived in (kids or no kids), is free. So are utilities. It's a perk of my job and something I have to remember when I wish I were living somewhere with larger rooms and located close to more shopping choices.

My job with its sometimes frustrating training requirements allows me to afford to travel and save money, something my fast-paced lifestyle (and Texas teacher salary) wouldn't allow. As a 20 year teacher veteran, I had maxed out the pay scale. Now I still have much more room to grow.

A completely untouched photo of yet another spectacular GTMO sunset---
a weekly occurrence. 

When the opportunity comes, I get a paid move to the next location. I don't know many educators who can afford to move all over the world on their own dime. It's a nice feeling.

And my friend who just wanted her beloved husband to turn his clothes right side out? Less than two years later, she lost him to a well-fought battle with cancer. She would give anything today to be able to tell him to put the clothes in the bin the "correct' way.

Some days a little perspective on life makes it sweeter and more bearable.

And those GTMO sunsets don't hurt, either.

Where is My Mind?; or, Black Holes (and Revelations)

One of the best concerts I've ever seen was not a musician, but George Carlin.

I saw him at my college (University of Southern Mississippi) way back in the 1980s. One of my all-time favorite Carlin skits is about the black hole that eats your socks.

If you've had infants, it's understandable how a dryer can eat a sock the size of your thumb.

However, I'm convinced that my house sits on a) an ancient burial ground; b) the site of a famous battle; or c)a mysterious supernatural force (that is probably connected to the mysterious Cayman Trench that sits next to Guantánamo Bay).

We don't have baby socks anymore (and my youngest had such huge feet as a newborn, he came into the world wearing 3 month booties). What we do have are other missing/lost items.  TONS of them.

I'm still trying to figure out how I can lose clothing, books, papers, and other items in such a small house. (I'm also convinced it's MUCH more difficult to keep a small house clean than a large house---I guess there's just less surface area to spread out your clutter).

I've dug and dug and still am looking for lost lesson plan binders. My husband recently found 2 more, so they have to be somewhere---I seriously doubt they were lost in the move---but after going through all the unpacked boxes twice, still no luck.

I can't find a shoe. Yes, one shoe. I know I packed it and I think I've worn it since we've been here, but damn, I can't find one of a pair of slip on leather sandals. (And when I spent the better part of 3 months in an air cast, the missing shoe was the one I needed. Naturally).

I've lost cookware. Linens. Books. I'm missing one earring from several pairs.

Single socks. A pair of jeans I bought this summer and wore twice. My favorite black Nike running shorts. A pair of Asics. My extra, unopened contact lens. My best hair brush. A hand mirror. A pair of gardening shears and a large set of loppers.

My house isn't very messy. It's just very small. Every single closet is packed. I took everything out of the hall closet this year---it is large enough we could actually put a desk in it and call it an office---but I found myself packing it to the roof again, even after weeding out unneeded items.

So what's crammed in that closet? Art supplies, a sewing machine (used twice since I got here), sewing supplies, family quilts, tons of board games, fly tying supplies, boxes of old photographs, pillows, wrapping paper, suitcases, nicer winter clothes we couldn't part with, and Christmas, Easter, and Halloween decorations. 

This would be after getting rid of at least 20 times that much stuff since we got here. And after of that cleaning, I was sure I'd find a few things we can't find. 

After all, we've done a pretty good job of organizing and marking everything. But still. . . 

Where's my voter registration card (needed for my absentee ballot)? My PIN to the debit card I never use?  A Walter Anderson print I know is somewhere in this house? 

There is either paranormal activity or a black hole that is sucking items one by one out of this house.  I can live without most of the stuff, but the fact I know what I want/need is somewhere nearby is driving me crazy.