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Now What?
Enter the mind of an obsessive compulsive, anal retentive women in the city. She's turning 30, has a pantry and an uncontrollable need to feed everyone she meets.
How did an auditor lead to death, birth and breakfast?
On life, death and a hopefully kick ass breakfast.
Published on May 24, 2004 By
citygirl
In
Home & Family
We have an auditor here today.
Although an audit is stressful, for the most part, we're all semi-calm.
Responses include "Well, she can stuff it." and "She wants what?!"
But all in all, everyone is giving her as much info as possible.
They've put me in charge of directing her to what she needs. Essentially, it entails me running around making sure that we have what she needs by getting a team to run around like on a treasure hunt for supporting documentation. All the while, looking calm and un-phased.
I guess I'm doing well. She's out to lunch and we've pretty much found everything she wants. I have a few stragglers but she locked her pc so I have to wait for he return to do more investigating.
All this auditing made me think about how I thought I wanted to work as a consultant. I still think it would be interesting to try. I'm still open but not as open as I was before. A year ago, if you told me to pack my bags and live my life as a consultant, I'd be all for it. Now, I'm slightly more comfortable at home. I look forward to walking in my neighborhood village shops and picking out what to make for dinner. It could also just be the weather is allowing me more outdoor time. When I was really gung ho about the idea of seeing new places and environments and helping them re-organize, it was the dead of winter.
Who knows. All I know is that more and more, I think about home and family and less about career goals. And this scares me a bit. Career is the one thing you really have a control over. Once you start a family, Lord knows what you might encounter. But it seems exciting as well.
My uncle came down this weekend. We were discussing my cousin's pregnancy. It's her first. It's the first for any granddaughter on my mom's side. It's the first for my uncle's family.
Apparently, she's ballooned and her ankles and calves are swollen. She's due Father's Day.
She wrote to me, "I never expected pregnancy to turn my entire body topsy-turvy."
Now, I know I shouldn’t do this but, I’ve got 1 other girl cousin above me so I think the heat is off me for now. I know it doesn’t always happen that way but I’m glad I have a buffer. I’m still contemplating this whole thing. I know that I’ve always thought of having kids. I’ve always imagined being a mom. But as I realize my thoughts are growing closer to that fact, I’m becoming more contemplative and reflective.
I know. It’s all about control. I’m afraid that I won’t have control. But it can’t be that hard. It’s not like babies aren’t born every day. I also think it’s a tiny bit of fear. Not so much of being a bad parent. More of loss. I lost my grandparent and father within a year and half span. I was very close to all three. I once told God that I knew that he would never test me with something I couldn’t handle but if I ever loss again I’d be beside myself. Now, yes, giving God a direct order was bold. I didn’t mean ever. I was realistic. I knew that life and death are part of the cycle of life. I guess I was requesting from God some sort of peace. I needed some time to heal. I knew he wasn’t going to stop life for me. I just wanted him to put that proverbial hand on my shoulder. And he did.
Now some people, bring life after death. Look at Gwenyth and her Apple. [I won’t even go into the stupidity of naming your child a fruit.] But for me, and yes, this is selfish, a little part of me fears the sense of loss again. I see it when I look at my pooches. When I see my older pooch limping because of his arthritis, I realize that P-man, is getting older. The idea of loss again hurts. If the thought of it leads me to tears, I can’t imagine the reality.
I know that this sounds ridiculous. I know it’s all in my head and when/if the time comes that I have a child, I’m sure my fears will subside.
Oh, not to change the subject but, I made those egg custards. Although the pastry wasn’t traditional, my uncle loved them. The custard was right on the money. The pastry wasn’t. I tried three different ways. Once with the directions. It was too hard. The second with puff pastry. It was too puffy. The third time, I used puff but rolled most of the puffiness out.
My mom was impressed I tried though. And my aunt asked for the recipe. My hubby was proud I even attempted this. I’m glad I tried. My stomach was killing me for days from all the test batches but it was worth it to see my Uncle’s reaction.
Oh and my MIL called to cancel this weekend’s visit. She’s rescheduling it to June. Her husband couldn’t get out of work. So I have some time. Hubby said since we finally get a weekend without company, he’s planning to make me a big Saturday breakfast. It will be his first foray in the new kitchen. Personally, I would prefer his yearly spaghetti and meatball fiesta. [He cooks for me once a year. Spaghetti and Meatballs. It was the only recipe his mother showed him how to make. It’s been tradition since.] But he promised me a breakfast worthy of mimosas. Can’t wait.
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