Pink Newspaper

After days, even weeks of a severe case of the extreme oh woe is me's, I'm happy to say I'm up and running, back on track, back in the game and ready to rock and roll...so to speak.
My energy kicked in about 3/4 of the way through last Thursday and at the same moment my motivation stepped up to to give my energy a high five and a chest bump, elated to be back together again!
So the 3 of us, energy motivation and I, quickly devised a plan to release the pent up creativity too long suppressed and longing for freedom, which caused a spontaneous combustion that resulted in creation euphoria.
Really, I'm not even kidding!
It was as if a too long left can of pop exploded in the freezer.
It was like the time the boys put a 6 man rubber raft in our 15 ft above ground pool. They were thoroughly enjoying the big waves until those waves created so much pressure against the sides that the thin metal literally ripped. All the water gushed out. I was lucky I didn't have sliced sons!
Just like that, all of my bottled up imprisoned need to create came spilling out and splashed all over the door!
I knew the time would come when this would happen, I was prepared. I had my necessary supplies handy to make sense of what might have other wise been a mess had preparation not preceded the event.
My co-worker Fredrick, a small in stature dark skinned man with a pretty thick accent was in the room service kitchen clearing some carts when I saw him, said Hi and then couldn't help but notice the newspaper he had on that cart, it was pink! I had never seen a pink newspaper so I asked him about it. It was the "Financial Times" (it's name explains why I'd never heard of it!) and comes only on the weekend, he asked if I wanted it. I said yes, of course I would say yes, it was pink!
I knew immediately that it would be part of a decoupage one day.
I did not know until I got to it, that 3/4 of the way through last Thursday would be the day and that the project would be the door.
I never would have suspected at the time that I came into possession of the pink newspaper that it would turn out to be such an emancipator.
Funny how things come together sometimes.
P.J.

1 Shoe and a Bit of Sparkly "oooohh"

Yesterday at work I found a shoe. Just 1 shoe, a Ralph Lauren gold strappy low heel sandal that appeared to be about a size 8 1/2. As far as shoes go, it really was not very outstanding but I had to wonder...where was the other shoe? Where was the shoe wearer?
It sat alone on a chair. Nearby on the floor was a white plastic bag.
As I tidied up the room before exiting it for my next assignment I thought about what a party the wedding reception must have been in that room the night before that would result in losing or forgetting certain articles worn to but not from the party.
What could possibly be the circumstances under which one might lose a shoe?
Giving the benefit of doubt I thought of logical unassuming explanations, perhaps after a night of dancing tired feet kicked off those shoes and at the end the wearer had their hands full of wedding favors and shoes and dropped it unaware.
Then there was the assuming explanation that had to be considered, perhaps a few too many adult beverages had been too much enjoyed leaving the too tipsy beverage consumer to get herself back to her starting place with at least 1 bare foot but still, what then of the other shoe, one can only imagine!
And even the highly unlikely explanation that it was a 1 footed person who normally only wears 1 shoe and their 1 foot kicked off their 1 shoe not really caring to take it back home at the end of the night, secretly hoping that someone like me would find it and wonder.
And last but not least, Cinderella was a guest at this party too.
I figured I'd take it up to the security office where one might be referred if looking for a lost shoe.
I picked it up and then bent to pick up the bag as well and could feel that there was some weight to it, I looked inside and saw a lovely bit of sparkly "oooohh". It was a rhinestone necklace. My immediate thought was "finders keepers losers weepers" conjunctively with "what kind of a lame loser would sell out their own integrity for a cheap glass, imitation diamond necklace?"!
I took it along with the shoe to the security office upstairs as I thought about how little it takes to cause me to sell out, or at least have the thought come to mind. It's really disappointing to clearly see my own true colors and find they are far less lustrous than I'm often able to convince myself they are. Sitting loftily up there on the pedestal I like to think I deserve to be on makes it a lot harder to see all the way down to where the bottom dwellers feed on the cheap low valueless sludge of self indulgence.
I voluntarily stepped down from the pedestal. I clearly saw that my thoughts concerning the improprieties of the 1 shoe'd person were out of line and uncalled for.
I clearly saw that my own thoughts were easily captivated by an imitation that would have soon proven to be nothing more than a momentary cheap thrill.
I threw a dust cover over the pedestal and as I walked away looked back at it with disgust.
I know I don't belong there it's just where I think I ought to be.
I'll probably go back to it, take the cover off and climb back up on it real soon. If I didn't think so I wouldn't have bothered covering it up to keep the dust off of it.
What if it had been a real diamond necklace? What if it had been 2 shoes, in my size?
I shutter to think.

P.J.

Galatians 6:3 If anyone thinks himself to be something, when he is nothing, he deceives himself.

I Corinthians 10:12 Therefore let him who thinks he stands take heed lest he fall.

Me-no-pause

Ughhh!
Enough already, no really, g-o- a-w-a-y!
I don't like you, I never did, there is no place for you in my life, just
g--o-- a--w--a--y!
I'm not talking to anybody (though there have been times when it would be completely inappropriately appropriate!) but myself and this "event" that is mercilessly ruling my affairs at a time when I am least able to fight it! Honestly, I feel like I'm on the floor with a giant booted foot applying constant pressure to my neck so that it is impossible for me to get up. My kanuter valve is clogged. My oomph is kaput. My get up and go got up and went and didn't take me along.
I have big plans, grand ideas, implementing them...well, a lot of times they just don't happen. My head and heart are steps ahead of my body and just about the time my body catches up, bam, broadsided by that Mack truck again!
Then my mind throws itself a pity party, it's not a private invitation only party but for some reason I'm always the only one who shows up. I don't even know why I keep going, I don't like these parties but I feel kind of sorry for me that no one else will go and so I think I better go or the party will be a flop, I mean what party is it if no one attends, so I attend, out of pity, and then when I get there I feel sorry for myself because I threw a party and no body cared enough to come. And then I further the pity cause by dwelling and wallowing in the oh woe is me's and poor poor pitiful me's.
It is a nasty underhanded dirty little trick this "event" would have me succumb to!
In my event planning business it is imperative to work out all the details well in advance of said event. It's the only way to approach and see to fruition what was originally envisioned. Sometimes the original plan is so modified it is hardly recognizable but any plan can be reconfigured to adapt to needs and requirements.
As I continue to work out the kinks in my plans and ideas that are so greatly influenced by the uncontrollable "events" in life, I stand as I sit in my easy lazy chair, in complacent defiance shaking my fist raised high, silently shouting
Me-no-pause!