Chocolate Soft-Serve at Lunch, and Keeping These Records

Just walked to lunch. There's a Jason's Deli near my office. Just a ten-minute little hike over a hilly parking lot. Makes for feelings of accomplishment and full-tummy, with a side of "virtuous," because: Salad Bar. I even skipped the potato/pasta salads and the muffins. Not the soft-serve, though. Life's too short. Lunch dessert for the win.

Am spending my workday answering the backlog of customer service emails that came in through the website while I was on vacation. LOTS of emails. Lots of whiny slash helpless customers. "How do I find a store in my town?" You might consider the giant STORE LOCATOR button, durrrr. It's easier to see than "Contact Us;" I don't understand you or your bad eyes. Since the Contact Us form is technically part of the website content, it falls to me to triage the emails, but I think that's a crock. I didn't sign up for customer service. Two weeks ago, some lady wrote back in, telling me how quickly she was going to become an [Our Competitor] customer due to the "flippant, dismissive reply" she claims I emailed her. It wasn't flippant. She made me roll my eyes.

But enough about that. Work hasn't been so bad; yesterday on my return, all the bosses/managers were away! So I was able to read blogs AND get a few things done, and no one bothered me or created additional projects or meetings. Win. The kids are at Mom and Dad's this week having a ball, I'm sure, so there was no pressure to be anywhere or pick anyone up or entertain them AFTER the long workday, and that was very nice, too. Shawn and I had dinner out (Mexican, of course), then he went to a Scout meeting and I went to Target. Alone. With no time constraints. I didn't shop as much as I could have, but it did feel very [weird and] nice to be so freed.

I'm trying to decide if it's time to pitch some (or all) of my old journals. Some of them are so old that they have really, truly stupid (pre-teen and worse) boy-crazy nonsense in them. Kate got into the shelf where I have them tucked away recently, and I definitely did NOT want her reading that garbage. Nor do I think I want to read them ever again. But on the other hand... it's me, you know? My heart, poured out on paper. Who I was, informing who I am. A bit of a record if my ancestors ever want to know the details about the Sadie Hawkins dance of 1989 or anything (ha, I'm only using that as an example; there weren't any notable details). I guess part of me wonders if it's at all valuable for future historians (no). Or for a novel (that I will never ever write).

The other part likes throwing unnecessary things away and would feel very much lighter without all those PAGES. I don't know. I was reading some entries last night, from around 1999, right before I met Shawn. It was interesting to see how my brain was working at the time. In my loneliness (I'll admit) without a boyfriend, I had gotten very involved in the church singles group and even a retreat group, partly because there was a cute boy also involved. Gag. He's now a priest, by the way. I even took a weekly shift in the Adoration Chapel and would sometimes journal in there, so it's very prayer-y, trying to see God's hand in the events of the day, trying to be cautiously hopeful about the boy but still writing girly, crushy things, and... I was growing in faith but that's something so personal, it was even uncomfortable for ME to read it again now. Of course the later entries, after Shawn and I had just met and started dating, are fun to have as a record of/for our family, but again, does anyone else need to read this stuff? No. Anyway, it made me roll my eyes at my young self and want to pat her head at the same time, to let her know not to worry. Silly.

I have more to say but probably better stop here.