Day 135 - more Monday blues

 Today is the 2nd day of the 20th week, the 15th day of the 5th month, the 135th day of 2023, and:

• Bring Flowers to Someone Day
• CSCMP's Supply Chain Professionals Day
• Hoarding Awareness Day
• Hyperemesis Gravidarum Awareness Day
• IG Awareness Day
• Independence Day - Paraguay from Spain in 1811
• International Conscientious Objectors Day
• International Day of Families
• International Kangaroo Care Awareness Day
• International MPS Awareness Day
• La Corsa dei Ceri
• Nakba Day - for one group to win, someone had to lose.  The UN voted in 1947, and it became a reality on this day in 1948 
• National Chocolate Chip Day
• National Safety Dose Day
• National Senior Fraud Awareness Day
• National Spider Day
• National Tuberous Sclerosis Day
• National Women's Check-Up Day
• Nylon Stockings Day
• Peace Officers Memorial Day
• Relive Your Past By Listening to the First Music You Ever Bought No Matter What It Was No Excuses Day - I have absolutely no idea what the first record I ever bought was, but it was probably a 45 rpm of some popular tune
• Straw Hat Day - a couple of weeks early since the fashion police state you cannot wear straw hats or carry straw pocketbooks until after Memorial Day
• VBF Awareness Day
• World Orthodontic Health Day

Quote of the day:
"Have patience.  All things are difficult before they become easy."
~ Saadi, Persian poet and prose writer of the medieval period

Mother's Day has always been a difficult day for me.  

I can't say that I particularly liked my mother or that I miss her.  I loved her dutifully, but I felt I never quite knew her or that she knew me.  I learned a lot from her, but as far as mothering goes, it was about things I tried to do differently with my own child rearing processes.  But over the years, I've come to understand that my mother was a product of her upbringing, and that has made me examine my grandmother far more critically than I used to as well.  My mother was brought up, and brought me up, with the understanding love was conditional, that if one acted in a way the family disapproved of, one would be disowned.  And that is basically what she did with me.

One thing I did respect about her, she had a backbone and will of tempered steel.  Once she made up her mind not all the king's horses or all the king's men could shift her one iota.  She was a fulltime housewife when my father abandoned us and she went to work and kept things afloat.  She was completely unphased by the strange men who showed up at our door demanding to see my father and hinting of debts to be paid.  She worked her way up from accounting to executive secretary to the CEO/president of Provident Bank and was both liked and respected by everyone in the company.  She was a hard, uncompromising woman, but she was a survivor, and she taught me two things:  life is not fair, and you have to face the consequences of every choice you make without flinching.  I consider myself a survivor, and I have her to thank for that example.

We never were able to resolve our disconnect; dementia interfered and disabled the process.  Perhaps, in some future eternal place, we will be able to sit down and actually communicate rather than yelling at each other.  I hope she is resting in peace, untroubled by my angst-filled memories of our time together.

I am so thankful that my kids and I can communicate and are close!  I am thankful they understand my love for them is unconditional, even when I don't like their choices.  I am glad that we can laugh and cry together, and that we can share the past.  I am proud they too are survivors.

Construction update:

They spent the day drawing lines on the newly cleared parking area - I assume the next step will involve jackhammers and holes again.  I wonder how they decide where to drill?  If I had to guess, those whitish splotches showing beneath the worn paving is where they had done previous repairs, but none of the red lines seem to intersect with those areas

Got a rather annoying communication from the collections manager for the property this morning:

EXCUSE ME!?!?!?!?    Yeah, my reaction was pretty loudly indignant.  Messages via the residents' portal to the collections specialist and the general manager stating that after 14 years of constant interaction with the office, never having been late for a payment, plus having to come to the office to pick up packages, at what point did I fail to respond?  Not content with messaging, I called, and got the sender on the phone and asked her the reason for this rather offensive email.

It was sent to the wrong apartment number.  So sorry. 

I wonder if I had simply disregarded the email, what would've happened?  A visit from two official personnel?  A legal notice posted on my door?  All because you didn't verify the building and apartment number before instituting procedures? I hope they have corrected their error before submitting the evection paperwork!

Oh, and I got some work done today too.

And so yet another Monday draws to a close.