Where I go

As you know, I work in a basement.  The building I'm in has a badge-reader to get into the side doors, but once you're in the stairwell, you need a key to get into any of the floors.  Even the basement.  Once in the basement, you have to go down a long, dark, dust-bunny hallway with exposed pipes near the ceiling.  It really is a Freddy Kruger movie set cliche'.  Toward the end of the hall, there's a door to the right with a big red sign saying something to the effect of "DO NOT BLOCK..." blah blah blah.  There's an industrial-sized linen cart blocking that door.  Further down the hall, also on the right, are some lockers.  Much to my imagination's delight, there is a hanger with a navy blue towel on it hanging off one of the lockers.  Straight ahead is the door to civilization.  No need for a key here.  Going through that door leads you to a little area where the world's slowest elevator opens to the basement.  If the next door is closed, you'll need a key to get into the actual, livable basement area.  Usually, it's propped open, though.  Directly through the door to the left is where I work.  It's a key-code door, which is also usually propped open during business hours.  Inside, 3 of the walls have tables set up against them with 9 computers on them and 9 chairs pulled up in front.  You'd think that means 3 chairs per wall, but really it means 4-2-3.  I'm on the 2 wall, which is amazing because I was the last one hired.

Outside our room is a modern-art style room, which has recently been decorated to look like it was done in the early 70s.  Which is to say there's one orange wall, with modernish furniture (you know...the kind with no arm rests, and a backrest on only 1/2 of the love seat, which also has a small circular table coming up out of it).  There are also Jackson Pollock prints up here and there.  Past that room and to the left are the restrooms, and 2 individual shower rooms.  I laughed at those when I first started.  They are off a dark corner of the basement and kind of creeped me out.  But it certainly explains the navy blue towel.

Today, when I went to get my second cup of coffee, the break area smelled like my grandpa from Canada.  Not exactly old spice, but similar, and definitely clean-smelling.  It helped to get my day started off on a good footing.

I've created a monster

I started a new report at work today.  I spent a couple of hours researching the necessary fields and tables yesterday, and today I started putting it together.  I never thought I'd say that writing the SQL query would be easier than trying to get the job done in Crystal, but today, I found one of Crystal's many weak spots - select statements in the WHERE clause.  No biggie, but it made me pause for a minute before pulling in another instance of a table, which I didn't want to do.  Hopefully, I'll finish this thing up tomorrow, as it's due before "go live" on the 1st.

We're about, hm...35% done moving into the apartment?  Everything is either in here or in a storage unit.  The next step is opening all the boxes and putting things where they belong.  We started on that today.  There are a lot of boxes.  I'm sure we'll be doing this for a while.  The TV, DVD player, and (obviously) computers are set up as well as a lot of kitchen stuff.  You know, the important things.  Who needs clothes in dressers, anyway?

Bubba is taking his time adjusting to all the change.  So far, he's not a fan of daycare.  Nor is he a fan of sleeping - at least not in his own room.  So even though I'm as against the idea as I can be, I brought up the option of letting Bubba sleep with us.  At least until things settle down a bit.  It's really the only way he'll sleep, and if he doesn't sleep, nobody else does, either.  He's a bit of a tyrant like that.  I know I shouldn't baby him, but he is my baby.  That, and I am terrified of being evicted due to the noise pollution between 11:30pm - 4am.  Maybe we can get tough once we're back in a house...

who's that lady?

...sexy lady.  Rob--you'll know what I'm talking about.  Not really.

I have been here long enough, and I have a pretty standard schedule to the point that I recognize certain faces on my way into or home from work.  The mile + that I walk to and from the train stop afford me plenty of opportunity to smile and say, "good morning" or "good afternoon" to random strangers that I feel a bond with since I see them at least 3 times a week.  Not to mention the characters that ride the train with me. 

On my way into work, there's a girl (probably late 20s?) who runs everyday.  She usually is just leaving her apartment as I walk by, so she darts out in front of me and takes off.  Only, she's not that fast, so I kind of stalk-follow her for a couple of blocks before she turns right and I go straight.  She reminds me of a girl that started at Offwire a few weeks before I left, so I always want to say, "hey, carrie" when she runs by.  I don't, though.  It'd probably WAAYY freak her out. 

The next person I see is a person who I'm 78% sure is a female to male transgendered person.  He's super feminine looking, but he's got a lot of facial hair (full beard).  Also, he's just stuffed into his clothes, like he recently gained about 25-30 pounds, but never bought new shirts to compensate.  He's very shy.  I've been trying to make eye contact and say hello since about day 2, so of course, by now he's completely scared of me.  I've seen him cross the street so he doesn't actually have to walk past me.  My heart soared a few weeks ago, when I smiled and he smiled, but since then, it's gone down hill.  I still vow that by the February, I'll have gotten him to say something, so I can hear his voice and be sure of my suspicions.

Today, I forgot my work badge.  I also forgot my drivers license.  The weird thing is that I remembered my purse and my wallet.  It just so happened that I didn't have my name badge in my purse, and I had taken my license out of my wallet for traveling yesterday.  Oops.  So even though a bunch of people see me everyday at work, and even though I work in the basement, totally tucked away from anyone, I was still advised to get a visitor's badge so I wouldn't be harassed by random employees in the hallways.  Because it does happen.  Weird.

Back to work blues

Even though we didn't take the super late flight home yesterday, it was still a late night for me.  Not to mention it was an all-nighter Friday night, packing for a long time on Saturday, and then sleeping on the floor with 3 other people that night.  As far as weekends go, it was kind of like college all over again, only I'm way too old for that nonsense.  This morning, I drank my mugs of coffee like they were shots.  Head back, throat open, coffee down.  Repeat.  Even with the extra caffeine booster, I nodded off a couple of times at my desk.  Hopefully tomorrow goes a bit better.

Today was Bubba's first (again) day at daycare.  He hasn't been since before he turned 1.  So it's been a good 9 months or so since he's be able to play with other kids and follow a strict routine throughout the day.  I dropped him off around 6:30, and got him a little acclimated before taking off.  Ben and I picked him up together after Ben got into town and we got the storage unit rented.  The poor thing was quietly reading a book with a teacher, and when he saw us, he burst into tears.  "Mama!"  (cry-cry-cry)  "Daddy!"  (more tears).  It was pretty sad and pathetic.  But he actually had a really good first day.  He had a good nap (we were worried, since he kind of likes to be in the action), and he ate all of his meals.  Nice work!  Hopefully, this turns out to be a good fit.  Sometimes, kids that age just save up all the emotion for when they are comfortable enough to express them, ie, when they are with their parents.  It's nice to know we're still needed.  I guess.

watch me flex

So I got the notice late last week that in order to save some money at the office, we're going to have to flex.  Of course, I immediately get mental images of the guys I work with standing in front of mirrors.  But that's not what HR meant (obviously)...the mental scenario alone was enough for me to want to talk to someone about a hostile work environment.  They meant that we have to take vacation.  And a lot of it.  40 hours between September 10th and March 31st.  Unfortunately, I won't have 40 hours of vacation accrued by then.  Fortunately, they will allow us to use budgeted people who might not actually work in our departments, yet.  So there's a whole person who we will count from September-March.  I think it'll cover all of our flexing, and none of us will actually have to take our shirts off.

Home again, home again jiggity jog

I took a day or so off the blogging to head back to Omaha and help pack the truck before giving my saintly husband a quick kiss as he took off with the moving truck to parts unknown.  Actually, he's heading to these parts.  But he doesn't have a map or any written directions or access to google while driving, so it may as well be unknown for him. 

I took the brutal flight back to Omaha, again, leaving my apartment at 8:20pm, and arriving in Omaha at 7:30am.  I slept more on this go-round than I did the last time, though, which helped me stay awake through a 13 hour day packing boxes and trucks.  Sadly enough, we were about 10 "casemate" boxes short.  If only I had worked at Offwire for one more day...  I guess that's what you get when you have way too much stuff. 

Today, Ben left early (6ish?  maybe earlier?), and the kids and I slept in until 8.  When Scooter got back from church, we picked up a little and then headed to the zoo.  None of us realized that it was halloween day at the zoo.  The place was teaming with children.  We saw a lot of witches, Harry Potters, Iron Men, scream charatcters, etc.  Whenever we couldn't figure out what a costume was, my mom would announce that it was Lady Gaga.  After the 2nd or 3rd time of this, I laughed, and my mom stated quite seriously, "Well...lady gaga has several different 'looks'."  That she does, mom.  Good call.  I'm just not sure that a grown woman with glittery hair and a "wifey for lifey" actually qualifies as dressing up as anything, much less the lady of gaga.

After the zoo and a trip to a park so the kids could get the stink off, we headed to the airport.  I brought Bubba back with me on this trip.  He was a dream on the flights (kind of).  He was a dream for the other passengers, but kind of annoying for his mother.  It was all peek-a-boo and smiles with the lady sitting behind us, which meant a lot of him standing on me or leaning WAAAYY over.  But at least he didn't scream the whole time.  He was a little (a lot) leery when we first arrived to the apartment.  He refused to get out of his stroller.  I finally got the boy in bed, but it was all up-down, roll, giggle for a while.  He's having a hard time of this.  Hopefully, Ben will find these unknown parts tomorrow, so we can get a real spot for Bubba to sleep in.

Genius in the making

I took one of my study guides' practice tests today.  85% is passing, and I got an 87%.  I took 2 points off my total when I checked my answers.  It was a timed practice test.  I had 30 minutes to complete it, and I took 22.  The first one I got wrong, I knew was wrong when I answered it (it was a true/false question), but then I talked myself into leaving it because I wondered if it was a trick.  Oops.  The second one I actually got right.  I had to list and link the tables to create a fake report.  I had all the tables I was supposed to, and I linked 4 of them correctly, but I missed the last one by making it a left outer join instead of a right outer join (which reminds me of a joke, but I'll spare you the groans).  It was a 2 point question, so I took a point off (we're allowed partial credit).  Maybe I should have taken .5 of a point off, but I was being tough.  So I passed.  Kind of. 

The other super smart thing I did today was learned something else new about my iPod.  I've had this thing for about 3 years, now.  It has 3996 songs on it.  On the drive out here 5 weeks ago, I learned how to shuffle the songs.  Although it's about a 24 hour drive, I barely made a dent in the number of songs I heard.  Mostly because I didn't realize that if you shut the iPod off all the way, it resets the shuffle.  Oops.  I learned last week, that if you just PAUSE the song, and the iPod shuts itself off, it'll remember where it was when you turn it back on.  Today, I learned that I can make a playlist on my ipod, without having to go through itunes on my computer.  And not only that, but I can also make it shuffle the playlist.  I know, I know.  Things I probably should have figured out by now, but I'm proud of myself for learning my new-fangled gadgets.  Maybe tomorrow, I'll tackle the pager they issued me at work a month ago...

Is it breezy in here?

Since coming to Portland, my butt has been cold, and not in the "your butt is so stupid" kind of way.  I mean, my rear end has been chilly.  First of all, I don't have any furniture in my house to sit on.  My sister in law was so kind to let me borrow one of her camping chairs, which I've been sitting on everyday.  I have also refused to turn the heat on in here.  I will turn on the baseboard heater in the bedroom when I sleep at night, but other than that, it's pretty cool in the apartment.  One thing I've learned in this experience is that these chairs are breathable.  And my butt gets cold at night. 

During the day, I work.  The office is a large room with 8 other people (give or take, as we work from home 6 days per month).  The room starts out warm in the morning, but by 10 or so, it's pretty cool in there as well.  The boys in the office run 2 fans pretty much all day.  The chairs in the office are those awesome, ergonomic kind that are mesh.  I had one at my old job that had a mesh back, but the seat part was cushioned.  These ones are all mesh.  They're breathable, too.  Extremely breathable.  And my butt is cold during the day.

I'm already paranoid about cool bottoms.  I mean, I did split the bottoms out of 4pairs of pants in a 3 year time span.  I am pretty much an expert on what a cold butt means.  Portland isn't an exceptionally cool place to live, but my backside wouldn't know it.  I might have to start wearing fleece underpants just to regulate my body heat - and protect against anymore accidental moonings.

Good men are hard to find; pennies are not.

My husband has been living in Omaha, with either one or two kids for five weeks, now.  He's working, getting the house packed and ready for sale, and single-handedly raising his son and sometimes step daughter.  I am beyond proud to call him my husband.  We talk everyday.  Multiple times.  He usually calls in the morning to make sure I got up.  Today, I was running late and had JUST gotten up when he called.  I usually call at lunch time and right when I get off work.  And then we talk one or two times in the evening.  I'm pretty sure we'll both have brain tumors when this whole thing is said and done, but it's worth it.  What's that saying?  Absence makes the heart go wander?  Just kidding. 

Today during his lunch, he picked up the moving truck.  This evening, my mom came over as did one of Ben's friends, and they packed all the heavy stuff.  The rest of it will probably get done this weekend, while I'm home.  He has done such an amazing job while under such a tremendous amount of stress.  I can't wait until we can all be together under one roof.

Scooter is coming home tomorrow to say good bye to the nanny.  She doesn't have school, and it's supposed to be a pretty nice day for some bike riding.  She's hoping that more leaves fall off the trees, so she can crunch them with her bike.  I'm excited because that means I might be able to skype with them on Thursday AND Friday, and then I'll be home on Saturday.  This was such a long stretch without seeing my family.


I found a penny on my way home today.  I have found probably $0.45 in mulch beds, and today was more of the same.  I am beginning to wonder if there is some sort of superstition around here regarding putting coins in flower beds.  Like...they are little monuments to someone's dead grandmother or something.  Either that, or the copper in the pennies helps break down dog poo faster.  Eeewwww...

No train

Today was a really nice day out.  After looking at my car this morning and wondering if I should drive, I took the train into work, as usual, and I spent my lunch break outside.  Yesterday, the marketing people sent around emails saying that we should plan our routes home from work carefully, as Obama is in town today to speak at the convention center.  I pretty much ignored the emails, since the convention center is east of my work, and I live to the west.  As it turns out, after the President landed, they stopped train service and bus service around the convention center.  No biggie, right?  Except the train that I take that runs west has to go right by there.  I ended up riding the bus home.  It was a beautiful ride, through the hills. 

The people weren't quite as beautiful, though.  I saw a woman hand her 2 year old son cheetos as a snack, while she poured pepsi into his sippy cup.  I wanted to cry.

I started trying to call Scooter at about 8:20 tonight, since she hadn't called me yet.  A mere 5 calls to various people (including messages left with her dad and her dad's girlfriend) later, Scooter called me around 8:45.  Since it was so late, our call got cut off after about 5 minutes by her dad's girlfriend.  That happened yesterday, too.  Ugh.

Ode to Rob

I went for a run yesterday.  I've been doing this without gusto for a few weeks, now.  Run/walk on M-W-F (except for last week, when I just sat around Wisconsin eating rich food).  Well, yesterday, I walked for a warm-up, and then just ran (well...more like jogged) for 2.5 miles before slowing down to walk a little cool down.  It felt nice, as far as running goes.  I kind of hate running.  A lot.  With gusto.  As I was watching the lights on the treadmill round the track, keeping count of how far I'd gone, I thought about my friend, Rob. 

He used to run marathons.  Fast.  Until he was waylaid by a torn labrum in his hip.  I met him just before his arthroscopic surgery and we became fast friends (or, at least I hoped so).  He's basically the person I've always wanted to be.  Nice, fit, and smart.  Luckily, he's also gay, so there's none of that fear that I'll accidentally become attracted to him.  In the words of Anne of Green Gables, Rob is a kindred spirit.  I keep trying to talk him into running the Portland marathon next year for his triumphant return to the world of marathon running.

So as I was "running," I couldn't help but think that if we were side by side on treadmills, and he was doing his walk a mile, run 1/4 mile routine, he'd still be beating me.  Oh well.  At least I was trying.

Today was kind of a bad day.  The weather was beautiful, but I got some bad news this afternoon.  **Insert recent developments in my life here.**  Kind of a bummer, but again, I thought about Rob and had to smile.  Instead of all the actual poetic "good thoughts" I've already posted and could have thought to myself, all I could really think was, "well...at least a monkey didn't rip off my hands and face."  It's a little gem that Rob used to tell me if I was having a bad day, and it would always cheer me up.  Because seriously...at least a monkey didn't rip off my hands and face.

The Bathroom

I have a small obsession with using the bathroom in public places.  If there are any breaks in the ceiling tile or vents directly overhead stalls, I give pause.  Too many Dateline or 20/20 episodes have lead me to believe that EVERY bathroom in America is teaming with hidden cameras, deadly germs, and peeping toms.  So I am always very particular about what stall I use.  It's an important decision which is not to be taken lightly.  (could this be another reason why girls take longer than boys in the bathroom?)

Anyway, at my old job, I had my "favorite" stall.  It was spacious and far enough away from the askew ceiling tile that I felt pretty safe in there.  It had its drawbacks.  The booger stuck to the wall in the corner, the questionable smell that would sometimes come up from the drain in the floor, etc.  No stall is the perfect stall.  The move to a new job has brought along with it all new insecurities regarding the bathroom situation.  Luckily, the 9 people on my team are the only ones who really use the basement bathrooms (unless there's training going on down here), and there are only 4 girls, including myself, on the team.  There are 3 stalls.  Unfortunately, there are vents located directly over the first two, and the vent over the second one is such that there is a clear line of site into the third.  What does this mean?  There are no safe bathroom stalls.  At all.  I briefly thought about going upstairs anytime I need to "go," but I realized recently that I'm pretty territorial about who uses "my" bathroom, so I probably shouldn't impede on other people's spaces.  I also thought about trying to "hold" it all day.  But between the walk and the train commute and the fact that I drink a few liters of water everyday, I decided that doing that wouldn't work out, either.

So I've decided to use the third.  Don't get me wrong.  It has its drawbacks.  The biggest being that it's an end stall:  huge gap for passers-by to look through.  And, of course, the vent issue, but that was going to be a problem no matter which stall I chose.  It won me over for one reason:  it's the one that always has the lid up.  So either it's the cleanest, or it's the one the male transients sneak into use.

Book Review

My current "train reading" is "A Diary of a Girl" by Anne Frank. It's convenient because the "chapters" are short enough for me to pause and make sure I haven't over-shot my stop. But it does make me want to apologize to anyone who may be reading my blog. I'm sorry I'm not as compelling or well written as a 13 year old girl.

In my defense, you could pile up all the experiences in my life, and none would be as interesting as the subject matter that Anne writes about. I've only gotten about 2 months into her journal, and I'm already wishing my train commute was 40 minutes instead of 17. To anyone who read this book in high school or earlier, read it again. It's amazing what a little college history and "Band of Brothers" can do to put some of Anne's experiences in context. I feel like I'm understanding this book for the first time as I read it through more knowledgeable eyes.

I will work harder to be a better writer, though.

New Saying to chew on

While at Powell's books today, I browsed the magnets. It's what I do.  I love those things.  I found one that struck a chord with me, and I think I'll add it to my arsenal of positive things to think about on bad days.

"What if we just acted like everything was easy"  --Mary Anne Racmacher

I also have 3 magnets that I used to keep at work.

"What would you attempt to do if you knew you could not fail?"  --Anon

"Whether you think you can or think you can't, you're right."  --Henry Ford

"Well behaved women rarely make history."  That one is unattributed, but I'm guessing it sounds like something Eleanor Roosevelt would say.

So anyway, I'm just going to continue to move forward, behaving badly and pretending it's easy.  I think you should, too.

Sunday bike day

My bike is back in action! I changed my own bike tire last weekend, but didn't get to ride because it was raining on Saturday and I left for Madison on Sunday morning. Today, though, I hopped back on that thing for a little ride. I went over to Center Street park, which is a nice little park in a neighborhood that we'd like to move to once the dust settles. The ride is bike lanes and sidewalk the whole way, so I'm sure if we're still in the apartment when Scooter comes out, we'll easily be able to ride there together.

I also rode to Powell's books, which is a Portland area book store. Kind of like Barnes and Noble, but 1. locally owned, 2. cheaper than B&N and 3. they also buy and sell used books. Yay! On the way there and home, I thought about how nice it would be to ride to the grocery (same strip mall) with the family and load up Bubba's chariot with groceries and ride home. It'd probably take about the same amount of time as driving, and now that Scooter is an ace on her bike, it could also be fun.

I got a few books at Powell's. Devil in the White City, which was recommended to me by Jessica last week, after she heard how much I enjoyed Low Life (non fiction book about NYC between 1860s-1930). I also got The Diary of Anne Franke and Touching the Void. When I got home, I skyped with Ben and the kids, and told them about my purchases. I also showed them Bubba's Superman outfit.

The only problem with riding my bike around town is that I go too fast to spot any coins on the ground. And we all know that Portland's streets are lined with copper. I'm up to $0.59, as I found my first nickel yesterday. This city is going to make me a very rich woman.

Saturdays are for lounging

And that is what I did. I had trouble sleeping last night after I got home. I yutzed around on the computer (posting blogs and photos), and finally went to bed around 1:30 or so my time. And then I couldn't fall asleep. I finally did, but not without a fair amount of tossing and turning. This "morning," Ben woke me up at 11 or 11:30. yipes! I ate some breakfast, unpacked a little, had some lunch, and talked to Ben a few times on the phone. Then, I went to go get my hair trimmed. It didn't actually happen, but I have an appointment for Tuesday.

I found a nickel on the sidewalk! Coupled with the penny I found last night, I'm up to 59 cents so far in Portland. Not bad! Scooter* came home with Ben after soccer today, and they hit the Wabash Trace for some bike riding...well, Scooter rode and Ben ran. Between last weekend and this weekend, Ben was FINALLY able to teach that girl how to ride a bike. We started when she was 4. It only took three years for her to catch on, but catch on she did! They ended up biking/running 4 miles, and she's able to get herself going, now. She's free! All she has to do is ask to make sure someone knows, and she can do the rest herself. Nice! She asked if she could get some bike gloves when she moves out to Portland. That's my girl.

I got Bubba* a halloween costume today. It's a Superman costume. I went to the Halloween store in the mall where GI Joes outdoor store used to be. It was filled with "sexy" lady's halloween costumes, and the selection for kids - especially Bubba sized kids was pretty limited. Batman, cowboy, robin, dracula, or superman. Robin was $10 more, so I went with Superman. It has a cape. I laughed when I saw the selection for women, though, as Jessica and I were just laughing about the ridiculous "sexy" costumes they have these days. I did not see sexy gorilla, but I did see sexy ladybug. Seriously?

And since I did all my traveling by foot today, I still have over half a tank of gas from when I gassed up when I first got into town.  If I were still in Omaha, I'd be 4 tanks down.




*I changed my kid's names because I love them. If you know me personally, you know my kids.  If you're a random, it doesn't matter what my kids are named.  Right?

Home!

So the difference between riding the train at midnight on Sunday night/Monday morning and midnight on Friday night/Saturday morning is this:

Sunday night, the train is dominated by 30 grown men wearing full face helmets, shin guards and smelling of beer while riding children's dirt bikes.  Friday night, 200 senior citizen women descend upon  the train after a Bill Gaither concert lets out.  I'm still trying to decide which group is scarier.

Training Complete

I'm officially trained.  The facilities blew my mind, they were so awesome.  I described it to Ben and Jessica as being "nerd heaven." It was like if every computer geek/comic book geek/millionaire got together and created a training center.  Art around every corner, rooms with names like "Mordor," "Romeo and Juliet," and "Raiders of the Lost Ark."  But then there were also luxurious break areas with hard wood floors, comfy chairs and fire places.  You really have to walk around and explore to get a real feel of the place.

Of course, there's a captive audience for such training who's willing to pay thousands of dollars for each person to go through it.  Anyway, a few pictures are below:

 A large area at one end of the U shaped building.  This was at the end of the blue quadrant (downstairs) and the purple quadrant (upstairs)

 A shot from upstairs

 This painting was titled, "Too many exams"

 The Blues Brothers sculpture at the end of the red quadrant, near the auditorium, which holds over 5,000 people - called, of course, the Epicenter.

My first 2 classes (3 days) were in the Temple of Doom room

Cool art with cog hair.

 Deer sculpture in one of the break rooms that was made out of recycled musical instruments.

Spiderman was outside the 2 super hero rooms

 Sculpture in the cafeteria.  It's a person (I thought it was a man, but others thought it was a woman) who's body parts are made out of animals.

Photo looking toward the offices from the drive way in front of the training center.

More office buildings.  The ramp on the left goes down to one of the parking garages All parking is under ground.

An office.

I was told I needed to get a photo of the giant chicken.  So I did.  That thing is about 2 stories tall.

Here it is

I've had some requests for a blog, so here it is.  Nothing fancy, and definitely a little less "personal" than the emails that I've been writing.  Hopefully, this little outlet will be a good thing.

The title of my blog is from a magnet that I bought my best friend years ago when she was losing her mom.  I can't remember the author, or maybe it was anonymous, but the magnet says, "If you're going through Hell, keep going."  It seemed appropriate at the time, but I guess it can be applied to anyone having a bad day or many bad days.  She reminded me of that saying a few weeks ago, and I've been giving it a lot of thought since then.  And I'm still going.  I'm sure I'll be thinking of that magnet often in the next few months.  So, to anyone else who may also be going through Hell at this time...keep going.  There's no sense in staying around any longer than you have you.