frogs_of_war

 Living through a holiday is like cramming a month worth of stuff into a week. Last week, the one leading to Mother's Day, all our help was taken (to replace people on vacation or injured or out sick or on family medical leave for a sick relative), so there were only four of us all week (and one of those could only work 5 hours in the evening for three of the days and was sick for another), so I worked 52 hours and so did the woman who is training to be Floral manager including 8-7:45 (she was 7am-7:45pm) on Friday to be ready on Saturday (as ready as we should have been on Friday).

Getting up on Saturday was easier knowing I was making time and a half. 

We used up 168 hours when we had 274 to spend (plus courtesy clerks coming to help us or a few hours here and there). I need to write out exactly how many people/hours were taken and for where in hopes no one will decide that if we are doing this well on so few hours, then that's all we need. (I also need to figure out how much money one guy cost us–his boss special ordered something and he not only refused to pay for it, but ended up paying half price for what he did get.)

But all in all, despite the long hours, this was probably the funnest holiday I've ever worked. The manager was off at her other job (for the company) last week, so we did our best and that best was a lot of jokes and silly lines and talking each other out of stressing and buying rounds of Starbucks, and generally keeping a good attitude no matter what was thrown at us (or taken away). We all remarked on how much less stressful this holiday was compared to Valentines' Day. We agreed it was the lack of a certain person. The floral manager flew in Saturday, so she came by on Sunday and after a general happy few minutes praising us, she took on that tone of voice with me about something I'd had nothing to do with and I was suddenly a new, know-nothing employee again, but the other ladies stepped in and explained what they'd done and why.Technically I was in charge, but that doesn't mean I butt into other people's decisions. We sold a lot of half price tulip plants (for $8) instead of throwing them away. And we also sold through almost all our plants, most of our roses, a lot of our cut tulips, all of our bouquets, the azalea trees we're normally stuck with,  and an oodle of arrangements (including ones in the "ugly" vase the department has had longer than I've worked here), so I don't think that really hurt our bottom line.

I'm pretty much dead to the world today (I worked over 61 hours between days off. I don't know how other people do this on the regular. Or why.) I woke up two hours before my alarm, earlier than I needed to get up even for those last few early days, but my fitbit says I got almost eight hours, so maybe it was enough, despite how tired I feel.

I made my first quilts every these last two days. One was made of paper (to cover the wifi extender that glows like a lighthouse all night), three are pockets sized (and will be pockets on an apron for my mother)  and the final one is about 16"x22" (to wrap around my tablet at night because its power switch glows). 

I used the exploding block method Charis shared with us (sew two same-sized squares together, cut one corner to corner, iron flat, sew on a square the same size as the new square, repeat), but I didn't like the massive triangles near the outside. I figured out that if I sewed two of these exploding squares together, those outside triangles become two. I also like it best with lines of solid color between the squares.

(I was going to put in pictures that matched what I was talking about, but instead you'll have to follow the links. Let me know if you can see them)

If I can find time to make a lap sized quilt, Charis, what's your excuse?

 I've been thinking of fairy tales lately. They are both fun to write and read. Mashups mostly like Beauty and the Beast + Bluebeard+ East of the Sun, West of the Moon + the Portrait of Dorian Grey (which I've got up until the East of the Moon trek). And Donkeyskin + Goldilocks + Snow White (I've been writing this summary since two (it's 9:30) and I'm getting close to the end), but I've come up with the best item for a fairy tale:

A mirror that shows you what you expect to see, not necessarily the truth. How would Beauty and the Beast be different if that mirror showed everyone happy. And what if the queen in Snow White was being manipulated? The mirror told her she was the most beautiful because that's what she expected, but as Snow White grew, she started to doubt herself and so the mirror reflected that. And interesting item if you know what you're looking at and are into interspersion. (Why do I expect everyone to be [feeling] when i'm not around? Or even a great place for porn if you expect the object of your affection is thinking about you.) But I can't think of any story to go with this item.  

I had a weird experience around Christmas (besides the hours-long panic attack I've started taking medicine for). When I work Floral, I'm always moving around (according to the fitbit I got for Christmas about 6 miles a day). A few years ago they put a bank in my grocery store. The head person on the bank stands in front, greeting all the customers who pass. The second head person was a man, who stood in the doorway, facing both the bank cashiers and my department. When no customers were walking by, he'd watch me.

People like watching balloons blown up and flowers arranged, so I ignored it. He'd say hi every time I passed and we might exchange a sentence or two. No problem, but as last year ended I became uncomfortable at how happy he looked to see me. I started avoiding walking past him. Then I found out he was moving to a different branch, so I went over and wished him well. I said WE'd miss him and his laugh. He replied that he'd miss me too. He watched me all the time.

So uncomfortable.

But he's gone now so it's all good.


I'm trying to finished the last bits of The Locked Room and send it off. My therapist (who I've gotten since the new year) tells me I'm a protectionist and had me come up with a deadline to send the story off. I said two days of editing, so with one editing day each week, the last day of the month. Then I sat down to do my editing and realized I hadn't done a synopsis or the back cover blurb. The synopsis wasn't too hard, but I'm still working on the blurb. (I was sure I'd worked on this before, but I can't find anything). Right now I have:


It isn't exactly what I wanted. There's no need to mention West's dark beard unless I note that Klin's brothers think he's Bluebeard (but how to say that without mentioning that the brothers open the door). I want to say the brothers are obsessed with the locked door. And I can't remember if it should be in past tense like the story (synopsis are always in present tense)

The first and last of paragraphs are the most important parts, so I should probably pull Weston from the middle of the first one and put him near the beginning. And the locked room should be at the end of the second.

Today hasn't been very productive. I was light headed and my heart was beating fast (like a panic attack) this morning, so I went back to bed and didn't wake up until one. Now I've got the out-of-body feeling I get after naps along with the light-headedness and crazy heartbeat. (making lunch was an interesting experience) I can't even really relax because I can't read anything longer than a few paragraphs.

I found myself alone this even (for a few hours at least), but since I spent the day moving books around (we cleaned my daughter's room a week and a half ago and I got tired of the piles of books in my living room), I'm not prepared to enjoy this time. But I did find this chapter that I'd forgot to post.

Title: Trifecta
Chapter: Labor Day, part two
Status: WIP
Genre: Romance, Triple Slash, businessmen, jobs, friends, working
Length: 1 k
Summary: Damien enjoys his role.

Masterlist

Damien shimmied into his ball gown. The stepsister’s dresses were normally garish, but Damien’s was demure, even more than Cinderella’s. His Stepsister Number Two made Drew feel ugly and ungainly in comparison and it showed, Jaron said. But he didn’t ask Damien to tone it down because wasn’t Cinderella supposed to feel that way? She had to have a reason to agree to the servitude. Drew’s Cinderella genuinely thought she deserved it.

Or at least his Cinderella opposite Damien.

 I had a should-less day today, which meant I only did what I wanted to (I did get up before I wanted to, but time runs differently laying down and I didn't want to miss out on enjoying not getting anything done). I washed the dishes because I wanted to, but didn't do the laundry and I'm not going to feel guilty about it. 

It wasn't an entirely stress-less day because I got two calls on my cell phone. I hate calls in general, but my cell makes them difficult as well (partly because of a crack I taped over the camera that tells the phone I no longer have it against my ear, so I had to pull off the tape to hang up). And a police officer came to my door to say my old car was getting towed. He made it sound like it didn't normally tell owners that, but we were so close... I'm glad he did because we were waiting until the weekend to do anything, and if they tow it it will cost a lot more than if we do. My husband's dealing with it right now. I'm trying not to say anything to him like that if he'd cleaned our stuff out of the car on Sunday while I was at work, we could have donated it on Monday and I wouldn't have been interrupted by a knock at my door.

 Anyway... I have two prompts. One is a kittycam at an animal shelter.

And the other is a picture: 

The light really makes this picture. And notice the way they look at each other. I could just stare at it (if I could just get who these two are out of my head).  I should be able to hear the crowd outside the window and the sound of the harp, smell the incense, it's like walking in on an intensely private scene. I want to back out, mummering apologies, then peek back through the doorway to see if they even noticed. They won't have. 

(Does anyone know how to insert a picture and make it smaller than the original? This would have worked just as well at ½ the size)

I just found out I might be having to take control of Floral for almost half of next year for a month at a time. Scary and stressful, but better than my manager having to go out for surgery and if she's in the building, she's going to keep doing things that hurt her (like lifting things or holding her arms up). This info lead to an almost sleepless night and I'm still exhausted.

Title: His Sweet Rose
Length: 5.3k

My mother called me yesterday in tears. She'd just talked to my sister, wanting her to think about the possibility of writing one of those 'coupons' kids sometimes do for their parents. Mom wanted my sister to promise at some point to have a meal at Mom's house with me, my sister, and brother. I have no idea why this is important to her, especially the 'under her own roof' part. But my sister refuse, saying that all families are different and in ours this can never happen. (and if my mom and brother would have just come to the funeral my aunt didn't want, we all would have eaten together.)

So my mother stated she didn't want a funeral because it would break her heart if my sister was willing to eat with my brother after my mother dies, but not while she lives.

After two hours of talking her down, she asked my to call her in a few days so she didn't do anything drastic (like throwing out all my sister's pictures and pretending she had only two children). She called back a few hours later, sounding much better. She decided to leave the whole thing to God, which made her feel better, so that's all good.


I read an interesting essay the other day. It's about happiness and other people's expectations of what that mean when it comes to choosing not to have children. Would Virginia Woolf have really been a happier person if she'd had kids and written fewer works? Or would she have just raised several miserable children? And the fact a person counted as selfish if they don't want children (personally, I'd be more likely to call them selfish if they do, not a bad selfish, but selfish none the less unless the kids are adopted).

But the thing I took away from the whole thing was that happiness should never be the be-all-end-all because happy people never change the world.


Also I found out what an opposite of hyperbole is: litotes. Litotes is when you down play something, like falling seven stories is bound to be uncomfortable. I realize that I read examples all the time in books and had no idea what they were called. 

 Last night I heard a falling water sound as I sat in bed, but no one was in the bathroom. (I could see in.) Besides it didn't sound like water on a hard surface or water on water, so I concentrated on what my daughter was saying. Then she turned to the bathroom and said that water was dripping from my closet. We keep a bucket for handwashing in the bathroom, so we dumped it out and I held it up under the drip (from the rail the doors slid on) while my daughter pulled everything out that half of the closet and my husband got dressed and ran upstairs to ask the neighbors if they had a leak. They said they didn't, but as we were speculating what else it could be, the woman came down and said the toilet had flooded their bathroom and bedroom. They had a wet/dry vac and sucked up a lot of the water, which meant that it dripped for less than half and hour all told. That first water noise must have been beginning. The pile of hoodies/sweaters it dripped on didn't even feel wet when I put them in the wash just now. 

My clothes are hanging over my sewing machine and the boxes are lined up in front of the bookshelf across from the end of my bed. But all in all, it could have been worse. The neighbors might not have been home. The leak might have been in a place they couldn't just turn it off at the valve. It might have flooded in our closets, damaging all our boxes and Christmas stuff. 

I'm so tired. 

Last Saturday was homecoming in the town I work in and unlike most years when we get a few dozen corsage/bouts (52 last year which was a record high), this year we got 114. My boss worked a 13 hour day (after a fifteen) and I worked an eleven, both with no lunches and short breaks. It was even busier than a few years ago when I worked homecoming alone.

But near the end of the night, I got help from a woman who is speedy at corsages and a produce guy who entertained us. He told us about taking three girls to the prom his senior year. The first was a girl who he'd dated for two days in middle school. He told her she really hadn't given him a chance. But to relieve the stress of going to the prom with him, he'd invite two other girls. She agreed. 

Next he asked the girl so smart she intimidated him. He knows he's smart, but she was much smarted. He talked her her about a social experiment: going to the prom with three people of the other gender. She said she'd love to do it, but didn't think she could handle three male dates. He said he's take that part and she happily agreed.

The last was the girl way out of his league, who had just broken up with her boyfriend. My colleague told her the best way to make her ex jealous was to go to prom with him, and since he didn't want her to feel pressured (since she'd just broken up), he'd also have two other dates. She agreed.

My daughter says that proves he has a silver tongue. Imagine some guy convincing you to do that.

I forgot to ask how the actual prom went, but the next day I wasn't surprised when he said he was polyamorous. That gave me the biggest plunny bite. If the main character were bi... and more than just the three dates... and maybe his dates had dates...

The problem is that makes nine characters (one of which wants to take off on his own), which is too many for a short story. But I spent a while looking up clothes from the twenties (at OMG That Dress) they could get out of a grandparent's attic.  I even know how it will end. The only fuzzy bit is dinner and the dance itself. 

But I found the cutest dress (http://vintage.tips/post/122528179155/omgthatdress-ensemble-jeanne-lanvin-1920-bunka imagine peacock silk pants under a beaded tunic) and I want a character to frolic in it. Doesn't he look like he'd drive some sultan mad? Or intrigue a gentleman as at mask ball? Older than he looks, he's someone's Puck. a vampire? fairy? Just a man? But a power the powerful want to control, but like quicksilver, the harder they squeeze, the faster he runs from their hand.

 A few of the sites I visit have daily (or weekly) lists of things to read. Political, personal, about the world or a place or an incident, so I'm used to following links and reading about stuff I would never have looked for on my own. The article interviewing people who have or have had sugar daddies was interesting as was the one about tampons. The one on being the parents of autistic kids was sad and inspiring. The one about the murder house, I never finished. 

Lots of them I don't finish, either because they hurt too much to read, not as interesting as I though, too weird, or I just didn't want to know. But sometimes I click on something I shouldn't have or I read too far and then I can't stop. I knew better than to click on the one about being a human trafficker or the one about poop or any of the ones that the little blurb upsets me with the injustice of it all, but the other day I made the mistake of clicking a link from a book review podcast.

( cut )


The article haunted me and I couldn't sleep that night. I kept trying to make something like that palatable. Could it ever be right? My brain wanted the answer and it wouldn't shut off until I'd fulfilled my obligation to it. I can't remember what I came up with (I don't what to think too hard in case I do remember).

But does this happen to anyone else? Does your mind try to "fix" and reality that's just to horrible to be real? This is the second time in as many weeks that this has happened, but the first time it only took an hour or so to clear the pipes.