Irish Daisy

I’m decrepit. Seriously, I am. Actually, I’m amazingly strong and reasonably fit for a woman of my age – which is a combination of the legacy of being an athlete in high school, stubbornness and an insistence on using hand tools, because they’re so much cheaper to buy than power tools, for all gardening functions. Toned arms are not indicative of overall fitness...at all. I mean really, there is nothing that matches the full-body workout of using manual tools to dethatch and aerate your lawn when you live in a place with rocky, clay-based soil. To hell with cross-fit or weight lifting – get a dethatching tool, a rake, a loop-hoe, some loppers and a pair of leather gloves. I can thank cheap gardening for my arms, my sore, painful, toned arms. At one point, I put together a slide show of gardening projects for my employees to explain why I arrived whimpering and limping every Monday. Window Dressing You know what’s not in great shape? My back – which is kind of the...

In July I lost my job. Layoff – a " it’s not you, it’s that the new management has no idea what you even do ,” kind of thing. And now, here I am, at home. The first time I’ve been unemployed since I was 18 years old…so, it’s been a while. Being me, I immediately set up a structure to work on what I’m going to do next – a schedule for updating the resume, polishing LinkedIn, getting my stuff out there on CareerBuilder and Indeed, networking and interviewing. The girls had a few weeks of summer left, so I pulled them out of summer camp and worked bike rides, parks and pool trips into my daily routine.  Great, I can do this! Rapid Fire School was scheduled to start at the end of August. Yay, I’ll be able to get more done without needing to shoo squabbling children out of the room. No one interrupting me to tattle on a mean sister, no one asking if they can just watch TV "N oooowwww???" , no one demanding to know what they can eat for the 20 th time in 30...