What's in a Name?

Manfriend has a very cool first name. It rhymes with "neato."

We went to a home improvement store on Sunday, in search of a patio set for his house. To his delight, the store was running a sale. He found a cart, grabbed a green table, six matching chairs and three side tables, and we walked up to the cashier.

He paid by credit card. She looked at his name on it, and said, "I really like your name."

"Well, thank you," Manfriend said with a smile.

"Yes," she continued, "because you can be called by that. I can't stand it when people are given a name, and other people shorten it. Makes no sense to me. Like, when someone names their kid Joseph, and they call him Joe..." (She said Joe with a sneer.)

Oooookay, then.

I had to look away, as Manfriend was dumbfounded by the exchange. He recovered nicely. He smiled, politely took his card, wished the cashier a happy Memorial Day weekend, and we walked out with his stash.

As we strolled to the exit, Manfriend whispered out of the side of his mouth, "Yep...it's definitely you!" We both started to laugh.

Tonight, he asked me if this was the same home improvement store I went to where I was accosted with Grandpop spittle. (It was.)

"Why do you keep going there?"

Angry

Today was a tough day. I behaved in a way un-befitting a professional, and I am pissed off at myself. Worse yet, I was angry, and I did the one thing one should not do in an office setting: I cried.

Granted, they were angry tears, but they were tears nonetheless. In my field, there's no crying. There's no crying in I.T., and yet there I was. Pissed off. Angry. Tears flowing. Eyes beet red and swollen. Pissed off, and no longer able to control the anger, the tears flowed down my face.

For a brief few minutes, I didn't give a shit. You know what, I'm pissed. Here's what Pissed looks like. It's not pretty, and sometimes it comes with tears and snot. Piss off.

My manager sat there in shock. He was used to a happier, have-it-all-together, sane person. This was not the person who was in front of him. He did not know quite what to do with me. So, he took me out to lunch. You know, the way a father would take a four year old out for ice cream when she lost a baseball game. Or, get the crazy lady out of the office. Either way, not good. I was so embarrassed by my behavior. I kept apologizing. He told me to stop beating myself up, that it wasn't personal.

I don't know why people don't understand this: It is personal. If we're lucky in today's economic environment, we go to a place of employ, and we spend over a third of our time during the week there. We work hard to enjoy the life we have outside of work. If that hard work is questioned or countered, it equates to a potential altering of our personal lives. So, please - don't tell me it's not personal.

(Yeah. Still pissed off. Can you tell?)

Some days I wish I had the - what's the word? courage? balls? - forethought to collect myself and defend my position, rather than cry or clam up. This applies professionally and personally. Then I think to myself I'd be throwing someone under the proverbial bus if I did so. I wouldn't like myself much if that happened, either. So, the alternative: tears.

One day, I'm going to find my Inner Voice in these situations. Lord help the universe when I do.

Until then, I'm going to be grouchy. And have a cookie. So there.

Private Benjamin with Kettle Bells

It's been a while since I've posted. I've been distracted.

I have a birthday coming up soon, and I think it's time for reinvention. My friend, C, has been talking about her time in a Fitness Boot Camp. It's run by a chiropractor who was also a Marine. (He signs his e-mails with Semper fidelis.) She said it's done wonders for her, and has said to everyone "you should do this!"

Now, I will say this: She is a feisty warrior without the boot camp training. She's up for any challenge.

I've been trying - trying! - to get back to a normal exercise regimen. Manfriend purchased an elliptical, and we were working out three times a week. We were going at a good clip, but we stopped this week (lots of work just knocked both of us out). We plan on returning to our normal schedule this week, but I want to ramp up my exercise routine. The elliptical is awesome for my legs, but I still am experiencing the "chicken wing" arms. I went to a wedding recently for a family friend, G, and she has these killer arms. I am admittedly very envious!

So, I took the plunge, and signed up for an eight-week stint with the local Fitness Boot Camp. I will go through a physical tomorrow to determine if I can go through with the program (I don't see any problems.). The Fitness Boot Camp is three times a week, from 5:30am to 6:30am. Yes, I did say AM. It's also all outside.

When I tell you this will be a challenge, it will be a challenge. I hate the outdoors. Nature doesn't like me much, either. I've had "tree issues:" They've fallen on my house and my fence, and they are costing me a small fortune to remove them.

I really want to do this, so that I know I can do this. Will I be running marathons after this? Um, no. But, at least I will feel like I've attempted multiple avenues to maintain my health and weight.

OORAH! I've enlisted.