Small Town Perks

Not everyone likes the vibe of a small town.  Although I argue the point that the majority of us live in small communities.  Even when I lived in big cities I still lived in rather small communities.  I lived, shopped, and spent my leisurely down time within a few block radius.  There will be those that refute my point but I maintain it for the majority of people.  There is something about a community feel. Continue reading

I can do this. I can. I can. I can?

I decided to quit complaining. It’s a talent of mine, to whine and complain. But not a particularly endearing trait. I realized those deemed confident and competent do not indulge in pity parties. They handle conflict with grace and sometimes even a smile.

Okay, I can do this. I need to do this. My goal is to not become “that person.” You know, “that person” no one wants to deal with.

Step one seems obvious. Don’t complain. And maybe smile more.

Shortly after making this goal I completed a huge project I helped plan. And failed. Miserably.

Okay, not a problem. Take the lumps and call it a learning experience.

I got this.

Next, I was given an assignment.  A long term commitment that I kind of hoped I could side step.  No side stepping here.

Really? Okay, not a problem. It’s not the end of the world.

I may have indulged in some complaining about this one to a close friend.  What? Relapses are to be expected.

I don’t want this but I got this.

I went to a college graduation. My niece’s husband graduated from college. In the noisy gym filled with well-wishers, we were told we were too loud by the older gentleman in front of us when we clapped and hooted.

Seriously? Ooookay. He may have been kinda joking. Not a… problem.

I. Got. This.

I went to bed all is well.   Other than complaining to my friend the other night, I hadn’t complained vocally. Well, not a lot anyway.  It’s true, I might have felt a tad grumpy.

When I woke up in the morning, I checked my email. Twenty-two new messages? That’s odd. I never receive that many at one time.

Turns out, my email was hacked. The irony is the fact I had kept my same flimsy password since opening the account fifteen years ago. That is, until the end of March this year when Outlook insisted I change it to beef up my security. Fifteen years and not one hack. Less than two months and I already had to change it again.

Oh, c’mon! Really? Seriously?

Maybe I’m not so confident or competent after all. Maybe those qualities are overrated. Maybe I have thrown off the balance of things by trying to become somebody I’m not.

Sigh.  Smile and wave, just smile and wave.