I got out of work a bit early yesterday so I decided to get something done that’s been bothering me for a long time now. Ever since I got laid off, I’ve been taking out my spring/summer work clothes and hanging them in the closet and putting the fall/winter clothes in storage bins. I’d do the same thing every fall, putting away the warm weather clothes. Rarely did I wear any of those clothes; I don’t have any need to. My work attire these days is a pair of jeans and a MM t-shirt. Clothes for my other “job” are the oldest ones I have because they are always extremely dirty. Eventually they get too dirty or torn and they have to be retired.
Yesterday, I stopped and bought eight storage containers and took all of the fall/winter clothes that were still hanging in the closet and put them in storage bins. I left the spring/summer work clothes in bins. I also put up all of Wally’s fall/winter shirts, our barn jackets, etc. Before I did this, I had storage bins all over the office, some closed up, some opened, clothes strewn all over the place, etc. Well, you can now see the floor. It’s a good feeling to get something like this accomplished.
I don’t know what to think about my decision to just leave my work clothes in storage bins. I’d hate to think that I’ll never get back into my real profession, but I have to accept that there’s a chance that I may not. This hasn’t happened at a good time in my life. I’m 50 … I’ve been away from the legal profession for going on three years now. Who is going to want to hire me? The economy doesn’t seem to want to improve enough for commercial real estate to come back like it once was. It’s hard for me to get into another office job because my resume screams paralegal, not administrative assistant. I don’t know …
I feel bad for Wally. He’s been in his job for a lot of years and on Monday he’s going to something completely different at a lower rate of pay. At least he has a job that includes benefits, paid vacation and holidays. I can’t say the same thing for me.
As I wrote yesterday, I brought Gwen home yesterday morning. I brought her into the milk parlor yesterday evening and put the calf up with the goats. She was not happy; she refused to eat and she had runny manure down her leg. She needed to be hosed off before I could milk her. Once that was done, she added insult to injury and peed in the milk parlor. I don’t know how much urine a cow puts out at one time, but it looked like about two gallons. So, I had to hose out the milk parlor before I could bring the goats in. When I was done with the goats, I brought her down to the pasture and left her up with the intention of milking her this morning, but when I went down to look at her, she didn’t have a lot of milk. Fine, I said to myself, raise this calf and keep your flies and neon green, runny manure down in the pasture. Milking a cow in the spring (when it’s this hot and humid) is not fun. Summer is going to be even worst. At least the goats are a lot cleaner and I can put a fan in the milk parlor to blow the flies away and they don’t put off as much heat as a cow. We want this calf that she’s raising as a back-up bull. I don’t want to go through what we did this year trying to get her bred.
I need to get ready for work; not that there’s much preparation for that these days.
Until later …