Can You Hear Me Now?

I awoke quite startled the other day. I heard what sounded like a train going through my apartment, and shot up in bed, wondering what the hell it was. Well. You know those really crinkly plastic bags, that make a LOT of noise when you smash them between your hands and stuff? Not that you do that, but cats love those bags. And one of mine decided to crawl inside one (I sometimes leave the odd one on the floor for them to play with) and run up the hall and under my bed, chased by the other one. All I saw was a plastic bag racing under my bed followed by another cat, too fast to tell which one. Seriously, have you ever seen a plastic bag run?? It’s the funniest thing ever. And loud. Then I heard a thump, and all was quiet. I was worried she had hit her head or something? Oh my God, what happened?? I looked over the side of my bed, and there was the bag, but no cats to be seen. Later when I got up and went into the living room, I saw Pepper crouched in beside the sofa, looking like she was about to pounce on something/someone. I called Pita, and she slowwwly crept up the hall towards the living room, taking careful tip-toe steps, watching Pepper the whole time. So I settled into my chair, because obviously they were both okay, and playing some sort of game that didn’t involve me. So they tear assed up the hall again and chased each other around for awhile. Never a dull moment around here, with those two!

On Wednesday afternoon I had my free monthly shiteous housekeeping. Well, okay, it’s better than nothing, but really, if you see something like my coat on the floor, could you maybe pick it up instead of just vacuuming around it?? They sent me two girls this time, one that had been here before and a new one that I guess is being trained. The thing is, when I buzz someone into my building and then it takes 20 minutes for them to get to my door, I know I’m dealing with idiots. This goes for delivery people as well; some are deducted $1 from their tip. I realize there are no arrows pointing to which apartment numbers are which way, but if you go up one hall and don’t see mine, wouldn’t you just try the other hall? Instead of going upstairs to every other floor, wandering around aimlessly, before coming back to the main door and buzzing me again to ask where I am? And listening when I say “go to your right”? Instead of wandering around aimlessly until someone directs you up my hallway? And then, when I open the door, (after 20 minutes, I emphasize), I realize that one of you has BEEN HERE BEFORE? Not that long ago? Do you know what I’m getting at? Because I have no idea, I just keep asking questions??

Anyway, they were not the smartest cookies. I remembered the training session I had to put the one girl through with my cordless phone the last time she was here, but I guess it didn’t take (”hit Line 1. There is no Line 2. Just hit the Line 1 button and dial out. Then hit it again to hang up”) because I heard both of them hitting all sorts of buttons on that phone, beep beep beepity beep, talking to each other in their language, and finally giving up and coming to ask me if I had a phone they could use. I said “yes, you were just holding it”, and got up to show them where the phone was they had just put down. I pressed Line 1 to get the dialtone and handed it to her.

So, yes, although I am grateful to have free housekeeping for a couple hours/month, I just, you know, AAARRRGGGHHH!

I had a really great night out on Thursday. I met friends at the Ironwood for a special C-Jazz event, where Matt Masters was taking his first shot at singing old jazz standards in front of a live audience, and my friends the Polyjesters were playing with Terra Hazelton. It was such a great show… Terra has such an amazing and unique voice; as my friend Heather said, “she sounds like every Christmas carol you’ve ever heard”. So happy and joyous. But she also has her sexy, sassy and sultry side. She’s awesome. And the PJ’s were great playing with her. I see many more regular gigs with them all together in the future, because Terra is moving back to Alberta in the Spring (she lives in Toronto now, where she sings with Jeff Healey’s Jazz Wizards) and taking a break from Big City Living. We had dinner at the club earlier, and I had the same thing I had last time I was there - because I resist change and love Brie - the veggie burger with brie cheese. Heather ordered these glazed chicken strips that looked DELICIOUS, so both Michelle and I have decided we are getting those next time we go (which just happens to be this Thursday, to see Emm Gryner).

On Friday I went for my 8th Quantum Release session. We are back onto the emotional thing. Between this session and my last one, Kevin ran me through his biofeedback machine and did a brain scan and checked out my nervous system and everything, and didn’t find much coming up on the physical side. He switched to emotional and WHOOSH, there it was. I said “but last time you told me what Pat said about my emotional health being responsible for my physical health was a load of crap…” and he said that she was right, after all. (I KNEW IT!) I have way, way, way more going on in there emotionally than he realized, we just broke through the surface. “But I feel good, emotionally,” I insisted. “I thought we were done that part?” Nope, we’re not. I grumbled and started to whine “how bloody much more is there?!?” and Kevin looked at me sternly and said “do you want to get better, or not?” “Well, yeah,… but, can I wait a couple weeks before coming again, because I won’t have the money until then.” He said he really didn’t want to stop now. “I will comp the session next week. And I want you to know, I don’t comp anybody. I told you at the beginning this wasn’t about the money. Do you believe me now?” Yeah, $540 in free treatments, I do believe him. Plus, after this session he asked me questions about certain times in my life and what was going on, because he felt certain things and wanted to be sure we were on par. And we were. Then he got me talking about my Dad, and my anger there, and low and behold, I talked and talked and talked… so I guess it’s not “all gone”. He then suggested I write it all out, do the “unsent letter” thing. I pouted that I sort of hoped I could just come to these sessions, lay back, and get it all out of me without having to dredge it all up again. He said although that is possible, it would take a lot longer. So, in order to move the process along, I need to do the journaling exercise that my friend/client/Coach Ken has been bugging me to do for years as well. OKAY FINE. I’ll write the damn letter!

I received a call the other day from a woman who recently had triplets, and doesn’t want to go back to work, but thinks doing bookkeeping from home like I do would be a good way to make a few bucks without leaving the babies. She has a similar work background to what I did before this, mostly working in the one-girl-office environment and doing everything, including some accounting, but never full-cycle bookkeeping. Unlike me, though, she has never worked directly for another accountant that she can call with questions when starting out, nor taken any accounting courses (I did enter the CGA program, I just didn’t get very far before I had to quit, but I did get straight A’s in Financial Accounting I, II, Business Law, Marketing, and Simply Accounting. Ahem). Anyway, she is coming over on Thursday morning and I’m going to show her “what I do” and how I set stuff up. To be honest, it would be nice to sort of train someone on how I do things, (THE RIGHT WAY), and have someone to refer people that are referred to me to (got that?) As much as I’d like to take on the World’s books and make sure they are done properly and everything is neatly reconciled, it’s just is not possible. I am but one mere human.