by Cecily Mahoney
Today was a typical day. I started out checking, feeding the dogs, letting them out and in, out and in. (4 dogs, 2 leashes) While they were taking turns I dressed for work and prepared breakfast for the old fart and I. Oatmeal can only be dressed up so many ways, but a former heart attack patient eats what he’s told to eat, most of the time.
Breakfast is easiest.
As I get on the freeway for work I thank God again for the DOT repaving the freeway so the speed bumps we were hitting at 60 MPH are gone. It may only last a season, but it’s nice for now.
I get into work 35 minutes later, in spite of the mini traffic jam in front of the university, where they are building new dorms.
I promptly start checking for transportation requests from the providers for their elderly riders, and making sure my staff has the copies they need. I spend most of the day rechecking for the faxes as they come in, checking off what is completed and doing the work for the staff member absent.
Just as I get things ready to close down, I get the bi-weekly call from my daughter asking for enough money to get her through another two weeks. If that husband of hers could get work this wouldn’t be an issue, but now that they check credit scores for something as stupid as a stock boy job at the local grocery, there is no hope he’ll ever find work. I keep hoping that he won’t have to become the eternal student to become a graphic designer, but, he needs student loans to get the degree and they mess up a credit score big time. He is a good father and house-husband, but I wish he could find a job even part-time just to help out. As long as he’s out of work, I have to keep working to keep them out of the poor house (or my house). I want to retire.
I dream of writing a series of stories that get published monthly, that pay me monthly, and that people can’t wait to read. I dream of finally mastering the banjo, so I can play for my friends when they ask. Last but not least, I dream of my daughter being self-sufficient, raising her 3 kids without financial assistance from me, and having a loving husband that works also. I want to retire to the cabin in Southeastern Ohio, raise a few chickens, and not have an alarm clock. The chickens will NOT have a rooster. (They lay eggs with or without a rooster I’ve been told.)
That’s it for today. Tomorrow is Saturday, and we’re going to an Amish School auction. They’re fun, the food is good, and we can never afford what we want to buy. But bidding is fun. If I do buy something, I’ll write another addition to the blog. Cecily
Cecily works at a non-profit as a Medicaid specialist, Transportation Supervisor and all-purpose, know-it-all, supervisor keeping an eye on ten competent adults who check in with her periodically regarding the work they do. At home she is wife to the old fart, mother of one, grandmother of three and caretaker for four young and expressive dogs.