I’m not even sure if I remember the date…it’s all just a blur to me right now. I still can’t believe it happen.
A couple weeks ago, my company announced that it would be cutting jobs. This affected all of our global offices. We knew the number. We knew all of us were at risk. I just didn’t think it would happen to one of our best.
Today, my manager is gone; escorted out of the building after more than 2 years of service to our group. He was an irreplaceable asset to our team. Everyone in our group knew this, but Senior Management did as they pleased which begs the question: is this all a game?
I broke down on the floor. I stood their watching him pack up his things. I cried uncontrollably. I couldn’t believe what was happening. This must be a mistake. They have the wrong man. I still cannot believe this.
And now he is gone, my mentor and my friend. For my own selfish reason, I still mourn. I saw him again today; he asked me not to cry. He’s going to be okay. He was sick of the place anyway. He will do better; of this I am certain. Either way, work will never be the same without him.
Today is my mother’s 59th birthday. She tells me that it’s easy to remember as she was born in 1950. And as for the actual date, she always prided herself on the fact that her birthday was one day after the great Martin Luther King Jr.. Besides getting a day off to celebrate a National Holiday, it must give her joy knowing that she celebrates her birth along side one of the greatest men in history.
I’m not sure how often I speak about my home life in Chicago, but I know this is certain; whenever someone asks about my mother, I tell them that she is the greatest person I know. She is kinder than me, more loving. She is friendlier. Definitely more wise. More open minded than me. She is the most beautiful person I know. The most gentle, caring, and selfless person I know. I love her more than anyone in this world.
From the very first day I was born, she has done everything in her power to give me a good life. She always ensured my happiness while instilling the values and ethics of her past in me. I have never suffered under the care of my parents. I only became aware of their hardships during my later years, for my mother made certain that no matter what her situation was, I would not lack any of the privileges that other kids enjoyed. She gave me the very best life that she could. As a result of that, I lived a life that some people dream about. It was a nearly perfect life, one for which I will forever be grateful to her.
As I mature, my love for her seems to mature as well. The kind of love that a daughter has for a mother will always exist, but I find something more has developed. I have developed a certain respect for my mother that differs from that I which I had when I was a child; it is the kind of respect that one women has for another. As I grow older, I have a greater understanding of the scarifies she has made for me during her life. I am who I am today because of her. I am able to live my dreams because of her.
However, I cannot help but wonder what her dreams were? Where was she was she was 24? What was her plan? Did her dreams come true? If I could go back in time, I would want to know my mother at the age of 24. She would have inspired me.
To my dearest mother,
You have made all my dreams come true. I will forever be grateful to you. I love you more than anyone in this world. Each day that passes, I realize more and more the depth of your love. One day, I hope that I can give you your dream. Happy Birthday Mom.
I have decided that I am not yet ready to start the new year. Heck, I still haven’t recovered from last year. Jet lag and heavy drinking in the same week took a tole on my body. What better way to start the new year than a little relaxation and re-cooperation?
I will have this weekend all to myself. No friends, no roommates, no parties, no restaurants, no unpacking. Just me in my boyfriend’s 1 bedroom Chelsea waterfront apartment…cable, big screen, and Nintendo Wii all inclusive (don’t forget about the mini-bar aka refrigerator). Mr. A is working in Norway this weekend, and I thought that it would be an absolutely brilliant idea if I could just “borrow” the flat while he’s away. My wish was granted and here I am on the cozy bed with fluffy pillows and all the modern amenities a girl could ask for. I never realized how much I like this place.
A day into my stay, I’ve decided that I need a new kind of therapy. I am not talking about a mental cleanse through some sort of meditation. Oh no, I am talking about the hands on experience of cleaning one’s apartment, or in this case, someone else’s apartment. This place is absolutely gorgeous, but it does need a bit of tidying up. Mr. A’s going to be working 7 days a week this winter, so I thought I should be a good girlfriend and help the guy out.
My first target was *dramatic pause* the bathroom. I was literally on my hands and knees scrubbing every inch of that room. I may lose all my readers after this sentence (HAH – like I have any), but I found the task to be quite enjoyable. Since we have a cleaner at my own flat, I don’t really have to clean all that often. It was very rewarding to see the outcome of my hard work. The bathroom looks immaculate, and it’s all because of me. I must really love this guy in order to spend my Saturday afternoon scrubbing his toilet. Don’t worry too much. I treated myself to a nice soak in the tub while eating some cake his mom baked for me =) .
I spent the rest of the evening doing laundry, grocery shopping, and watching a Sex and the City marathon. Tomorrow, I will cook my first Norwegian meal. Hrmm, I like playing housewife.