The phrase that just solves everything

by cathrynbauer

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Solangecat working overtime.

I took the orchid the Seedgroup gave me up to the model house in our development and regifted it to the staff there. I didn’t quite want to compost it per Ted’s suggestion.  Now I don’t have to look at it and be reminded of them.  Had a great night’s sleep and woke up with the sure and certain knowledge that I didn’t want these whackjobs to have any more space in my life and mind.   And it reminded me of something else.

One day a few months ago when I had just a terrible witness all day, on the phone no less, I stopped at a Starbucks for some iced tea and a breather on the way home. For some reason, thinking over the day and about the awful time I’d had taking a record with this witness, I suddenly found myself thinking, “Well, he’s just a poo-poo head!”  Why on earth that phrase popped into my head, I don’t know. I’m supremely capable of using adult profanity to describe someone. But for some reason, the phrase, “He’s just a poo-poo head” put that difficult day away for me emotionally. I’m starting to feel the same way about these people. I really don’t want to give these whackjobs any more room in my head or my life. I’ve got too many good things to enjoy.  I have always believed that living well was the best revenge.

And that starts very soon.  It’s just today that I have to swot over another hearing transcript.  I am on to an interesting work project.  An agency I’ve always worked well with does board hearings.  They’re hard, long days and hard, long transcripts.  But they’re lucrative, and I like the workflow.  Long days out don’t faze me.  I’ve gotten myself there; I’m dressed, parked, and set up; might as well work.  And then since the days and thus the transcripts are so long, I have more home-office time.   Less driving.  There is a lot of terminology.  The database of the various players and subject matter is vast, yet finite; my dictionaries are bulking up every day.  I’ve made this kind of adjustment before, from strictly freelance to mostly working in court, and I can do it again.  So I’m persevering.

And the dread holidays are upon us, and once again, I am an onlooker.  A lot of our celebration will depend, frankly, on how Ted’s job situation goes.  It looks as if he’s going pretty much straight to this one company, but it hasn’t happened just yet.  Still, even though I’m on the outside of it, I rather like the burgeoning lights and sparkle.  Who of us can’t use a little fairy dust?

Onward.

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