Or, if you don’t have the time for all of that, how about this:
Two weeks, but same sentiment. A weight has been lifted. I haven’t felt this free since, since, oh! Since I left LNR! Hahahahahaha. If you know me at all, if you’ve read this blog for years (which means no one, lol. No wait, sorry, Ro. You know.), you know how bad that was.
In what can only be described as standard fashion, my boss did not reply to my resignation email and has yet to say anything about it. She did, however, without hesitation, forward my email to my coworker before I even had an opportunity to tell her. I’m talking I pressed send at 8:06, was in a conversation with my coworker, and at 8:10 she was asking me about it. I’m not gonna say my soon-to-be former boss is excited about my departure, but I’d guess we might shit on each other’s desks if we could.
The tide is high, the relief level is high, plans are in place, the team is go.
Did I tell you I’ve started (making attempts at) jumping rope? I don’t think I did it much as a kid, although I do remember some fun sessions of Chinese jump rope (in it, out it, side by side it, on it, in it, out it). It’s easy if I’m just dicking around, but I’m trying to learn shit. Be all cool like a boxer. Currently, I’m doing good if I can jump 100 times in a row without whipping myself with the ropes. Baby steps.
Ok, I’m done. Have a rocking great Friday and let the congregation say ROCO!!
The congregation is at a near frenzy. The thought that the good Reverend might be returning today has an excited buzz rolling through the crowd. Electrified whispers start at the front of the room and spread to the back. Suddenly, a hush falls across the room as a solitary figure steps towards the pulpit.
Good morning, my dear friends. You have been missed. Please know that the Reverend MiamiShyner has been itching to get back and speak to you. Let the congregation say ROCO.
Today, this wonderful Friday, let us talk about dancing, dancing safely, and safety meetings. We might also touch on the paranormal, but first things first: dancing. Oh yes, we all do it. Whether you admit it or not, at some point, probably today, you’ve either busted out a dance move, no matter how small. Perhaps you’re doing choreography in your head right now. If so, good on ya. If not and you haven’t even thought about busting a move today, get up and do so. I’ll wait……
Yeah, Tina. Get it.
That’s also about how I look when making attempts at dancing. Yep, I am the anti-stereotype. Black girl that can’t sing or dance and has no ass. I also hate watermelon and fried chicken isn’t high on my list of loves either. On the whole, I haven’t dated within my race (OMG, the horror!) and that’s not how I married. I contributed to the world interracial fund with a daughter and I think everyone else should too. Let the congregation say ROCO. But I digress.
Weekday mornings, I rise from my slumber and head to the yoga dungeon/workout lair/basement to visit with Shaun T. You know, you gotta love a Shaun T workout, unless it’s any of the Insanity ones in which case you can kiss the crack of my black ass. But Hip Hop Abs, Rockin Body, and Cize? Yeah. All day, every day. It’s dancing and dancing is fun. Or, at least, what I call dancing is fun.
Shaun T says everyone/anyone can dance. You know, I hate to call shenanigans on him, but I have to disagree. Everyone/anyone can follow choreography. Not everyone can dance. Like me, for instance. I can follow your choreography and get it down pretty quickly. Does that mean I look like I’m dancing? Nope. People around me might be doing the same thing and looking like they’re dancing, but I’ll look like I’m having a seizure. So, yes, everyone can follow choreography when broken down correctly, but not everyone can dance.
And I can’t dance safely. One might think for the activities in which I participate, that I would be much less of a klutz. But no, guess again. I fall over my own feet in any sort of complicated footwork, and this morning, I managed to strain my side. Dancing. Maybe I should just call what I do spazzing. The harder I try, the worse it looks, lol. You don’t believe me? Go ahead and watch that little clip below and laugh. My left side! It hurts, lol.
There you go. Proof that I can’t dance. And especially not safely.
I can, however, and have been known to in the past, ahem, conduct a safety meeting. What? I’m unapologetically me. I don’t do things to hurt others. And as long as I stay on that path, I’mma do WTF I want. Just like Eric Cartman. And, I live in Colorado, so bite me. Bite me like I’m a weed infused cookie that you’re dying to try.
Anywho, on a completely different topic, do you ever wonder if your house is haunted? When I was a kid and my great-grandfather died, we moved into his house. Now, we’re talking early 80s here. When houses were sturdy but wiring was probably questionable. After we moved in, odd stuff happened. Lights would turn off or come on of their own volition. A few electrical-type things happened, but the adults laughed it off. Once, just once, I heard an adult say that it was Grandpap doing it, but I think they also realized that I overheard that so then it became a full-on force about wiring. Adults, they’re crazy. Kids, they know the paranormal truth.
Jump ahead about 30 years and here we are in this house. We really know nothing of the history of it, and fortunately a Google search doesn’t turn up anything. However, the reality is that this neighborhood is basically a retirement community which means the probability of someone having passed under this roof is probably high. Not anything to be frightened of in my book. Many were the times I went into my grandparents’ house after my grandfather had passed there. I lived in my parents’ house after my father passed there. And now, on occasion, I hear people talking (and I make sure it’s not the landscapers) or I’ll hear music when I know that it isn’t coming from anything I’m doing nor anything my neighbors are doing. Fun, right?? I’m still waiting to experience something definite. I’ll let you know.
In the meantime, however, I’m off to do some Friday-type shit. Wishing you all a good weekend and a better Pittsburgh sports night tonight than last night was. #cutScobee
To be in my yoga pants. At my house. Comfortable. Because it’s Friday. Still working, but working comfortably. The difference is huge, my friends, huge.
It’s just wonderful that it’s Friday. I am happy beyond words. But yet I’ll keep writing them down.
- I got beautiful “just because” flowers today.
- I think that I found the perfect skin care regimen. When I wash my face in the shower, it feels so super smooth right now. I just want to stay in there and touch my face.
Hey, I hope you remembered to ROCO today.
Let’s talk for a moment about the things for which I am thankful.
- My family and I are healthy
- Roof over head? Check.
- Food in belly? Check.
- Employed? Check.
But the thing I’m most thankful for today is that it is Friday which equates to my work from home day which equates to pajamas all day. There’s just something that makes the day that much more tolerable when I’m not confined in work clothes and shoes and the bathroom is a hell of a lot closer to my desk. Also, I’m that much further away from necks that are about to be wrung. I guess part of being the boss is having to occasionally hand out some Homer Simpson style punishment. Why you little!
I seriously had to just play this song to calm down.
I almost feel as though I should try to write tomorrow’s post today because tomorrow is full of yay. First, I won’t get up at 5 to work out. I’ll sleep in until 8 and then work out. Yummy breakfast time. Peaceful coffee time. Yardwork time which is more peaceful time. Hooray for yoga workshop time. And then an even bigger hooray for massage time. Can’t wait.
Ahh, 2 in the afternoon and I just realized that I have my undies on inside out. This is what I get for wearing undies.
I hope that your weekend is filled with whatever makes you happy. ROCO!
Good Friday morning to the flock. Let the congregation say, ROCO! And not just any ROCO, it’s work from home ROCO. It’s I’ll be in my pajamas nearly all day ROCO. Yeah, that’s right, I came down the stairs in those mofos. It is almost the weekend! And the congregation says, ROCO!
I kid you not, this day is an integral part of my week. At least two days I week, I want nothing more than to be able to wear something super comfortable and instead I have to put on work clothes. Today, I wear what I want if anything at all. These are good times. They aren’t quite the best of times. That video is for another day. Maybe when I’m on vacation in 93 days.
Yes, I have a countdown happening. It’s on my whiteboard as a reminder not to slack off on working out for 90 days starting on Monday. Three straight months of getting it in will have me body-ready by then. It’ll also serve as a base for the strength I need to gain if I’m thinking about participating in the Colorado Pole Championship this year. The hardest part about the whole concept is that I need to prepare possibly two routines, supposing that I am accepted.
I lean towards going forward with this as I’ve been saying for some time that in year 40, I would do this. I’m still not 100% on board, but the wonderful feedback and support I got yesterday from just mentioning the though pushed me from 50% to at least 75%. 🙂 A big part of, well, everything, is flexibility and my lack of it. It’s something that I would REALLY have to work on along with strength. That full front split isn’t a requirement or anything, but there’s also so much more to flexibility than that. I need to work that upper back and shoulder shit too. Ohhh, the work involved to participate. Yes, participate, not compete. I want this to remain fun. It’s like a showcase but just on a bigger stage. I’m not going to think about winning or losing or placing or competition at all. I just want this performance to be better than my last one. Yep. That’s my goal.
It’s also my goal to get through this day of work successfully and that means getting to it. Have yourself a great Friday and never forget, ROCO!