TheBanyanTree: Not the Sharpest Tool in the Shed

[Margaret R. Kramer]

9/27/99
You_____Are my reason for living_____I love you more each day,

When I think back about leaving Milwaukee and coming here, it was the best
thing that could have happened to me.  You are the light of my life.  You
are my love for the next 33 years.  Maybe more if I last that long!
Ray

I’ve been struggling with work lately.  I’m so grateful for my job, because
it provided me a refuge when Ray died.  I couldn’t imagine being retired
like so many of the widows I know are and looking at the same four walls
every day without anything to break the tedium of it.  I’ve received
overwhelming support from my co-workers and they’re still willing to listen
to me blabber on about Ray.

Since Ray died, my position has changed.  If any of you know what SharePoint
is, I’m now the SharePoint administrator for our project.  SharePoint is a
Microsoft product which is kind of like an intranet between different
entities which allows them to share information and documentation in a
secure way without resorting to email or setting up a site themselves.

I’m now in front our upper management and our client much more often.  I’m
finding I’m not up to the task.  I made a major miscalculation this week
which affected our client’s ability to access SharePoint.  I checked it out
with our IT department prior to doing it and they assured me it was OK.  But
it wasn’t and I had a horrible Friday.

And then with this terrible economy, and my employer went so far to assure
us that it had to cash to meet payroll, anyone can lose their job, so I have
a heightened sense of anxiety all the time.  If I lose my job, I’ll be
homeless, because I won’t be able to meet the mortgage.  I keep thinking at
least I have the flower van and can jam my stuff into it and live under a
bridge.  I’ll find a way to survive without a job, but I’m constantly
worried about the economy.

I have a major project to do with SharePoint and I gave myself the
ridiculous deadline of Friday to get it done.  I’m thinking about going into
the office to work on it a little bit after going to the gym.  I could work
at home, but actually I find I have less distractions when I go into the
office, especially on a Sunday.  It’s very quiet.

Maybe I can make amends for screwing up on Friday.  I hate doing work on
weekends.  Sometimes I wish I had a simple job to do, like phone surveys.

Speaking of phone surveys, we’re doing a new survey.  It’s for a much
tighter audience and it’s a much longer survey than usual.  I was finishing
up a survey one night last week and noticed that my interviewee was a
widower.  I mentioned to him that my husband passed away in February.  He
told me his wife passed away five years ago.  Then he started crying.

His wife had broken her ankle and had been in surgery for almost eight
hours.  He was with her when she was coming out of the anesthesia.
Suddenly, she sat up and said she was very dizzy and then she collapsed back
on the bed and died.  Evidently, she had a 98% blockage of her heart.  She
was just 58 years old.

He’d been to grief groups, but didn’t like them.  He said he was a cop and
was trained to listen and not to talk.  And I agree, the format is set up
for women really.  Men have a difficult time with grief groups, I think.

We talked for a while and he asked me out for coffee.  But he’s in
California and I’m in Minnesota, and I have a goofy boyfriend, so coffee is
not possible.

And the goofy boyfriend and I are on the outs again this morning.  We almost
made it through an entire week without a fight, but we just couldn’t stretch
it to two weeks, I guess.

I’ve spent every night with him for a week.  He doesn’t keep me up at all
hours anymore, so I get my rest.  But, he doesn’t stay at my house, because
he doesn’t like Asher.  Asher has done nothing to him, but Joe does not like
him at all and will barely speak to him.  To avoid that uneasiness, I just
stay with Joe at his apartment.

I don’t mind staying there.  He lives just around the corner from me, so it’
s very convenient, but it’s his place.  It’s cluttered with tubs of his wife
’s stuff.  He has piles of papers all over the place.  He’s clean, he does
his dishes, dusts, and takes out the trash, but the apartment, even it’s a
two bedroom, is small.  And boring.

I don’t mind spending short periods of time there, but I can’t be there all
day.  I have too many things at my own house to do.  Plus, I have the dogs
and cats to take care of.

Anyway, after spending so much time at his apartment, I wanted to spend time
at home.  Yesterday, I left his place at 7:00 am and went home.  I did a
bunch of housework, took a shower, ate breakfast, and then went to grief
group.  Joe doesn’t go to grief group anymore because he said he doesn’t get
much out of it.  Actually, it’s because he doesn’t like this one guy very
much.

I came home from grief group.  I ate lunch and then the boys and I went to
the apple orchard.  We got back around 4:30 pm.  I called Joe and let him
know I was planning to come up to his apartment later.  He’s been sick with
a cold, and unlike Ray, who never took care of himself when he was sick, Joe
almost overdoes it with exceptional cautionary measures.  He got the cold
from me, so I know it isn’t a bad one.

I finished my laundry and balanced my checkbook and paid bills.  It was 8:00
pm.  I called him and said I was on my way up.  He was a jerk and said he
was going to take a shower and go to bed, but it was OK if I came.  Well, I
could stay home and watch TV and read by myself, so I did.

It was nice to be home alone, the boys were with their mom and Asher was
out.  I was able to sleep in my own bed.  And get up and look at the paper.
I could get used to this.

It’s difficult, after being in a good marriage, to be with someone who
brings out the worst in me, and also has so many issues of his own.  We all
have issues, but his are just way out there, and they’re really too much for
me to deal with, which is why we fight so much.

Gosh, Ray and I rarely ever fought, and when we did, it was over and
resolved in a flash.  He always truly forgave me and I always truly forgave
him.  We never brought up past disagreements, they were finished.  But Joe,
well, the past is his best friend, and I’ll hear about this little
disagreement for weeks.

But, little by little, I’m finding the strength to move away from him.  I’m
somewhat financially dependent on him, which really irritates me, since I’ve
always been financially independent.  We have a joint bank account set up.
He’s paid for my expensive car repairs.  He’s cleaned my gutters.  He’s
helped me stain the deck.  He just bought me a new washer and dryer.  He’s a
very generous person, but it also ties me to him.  How do women, who are
stay at moms or housewives, get used to being dependent on someone else for
money?  It’s a weird position for me to be in.

OK, today is set.  After breakfast, I’ll go workout.  Then I’ll go to the
cemetery and visit my sweetheart for a few minutes.  I’ll come home and eat
lunch and then head to the office to get a few things done before tomorrow.
And, see if there is anything in my work email that shows I’m in deep
trouble.  I’ll come home and make a good Sunday dinner for everyone, minus
Joe, of course, since he wouldn’t be caught dead in the house with Asher
anyway.  Grrrr . . .

Margaret R. Kramer
margaretkramer at comcast.net
margaret.kramer at polarispublications.com
www.polarispublications.com

When witches go riding,
and black cats are seen,
the moon laughs and whispers,
‘tis near Halloween.  ~Author Unknown
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