Thursday Confessions

I confess…

My office at the hospital is across from the Morgue. Yes. In 6 years, I’ve gotten to be on a first name basis with several employees from various funeral homes in town and in surrounding counties. I also confess, it’s not uncommon for us to have a perfectly normal every day small talk conversation in the hall with a body in between us. I guess you just get used to it. I will also tell you (and not to be boastful or to gain praises) that I say a prayer each time I see hospital transport staff bring another patient down. My take on it, who knows, I may be the only person praying for this man or woman. You just never know what a person has gone through.

I confess…

I want the front of our house to be landscaped this Spring, but I DREAD doing it. As in, I want to give Pinterest pictures to anyone else except me and say, DO THIS. Yard work, just isn’t my thing. I get it from my Dad. I need to sweet talk some unsuspecting family member into helping us….ALOT. (Granny Jan….yes?? You want to come over?!!)

I confess…

I’ve been listening to the “Escape” channel on XM in my car for two weeks now. It’s basically elevator music which is apparently MY. JAM. Where did that come from??

I confess…

I don’t look forward to Easter. The older I’ve gotten the more I appreciate all that my parents did for me and my sister growing up, but honestly I just remember it being a lot of pressure for a Sunday. We had to find THE right dress. THE right pair of white shoes. Do I wear lacy socks or white tights? Do we get a headband? I didn’t look forward to it as a little girl, but I know that my mom was doing her absolute best in making Easter special for us. To this day, I worry myself about finding an “Easter dress”….why?! I’m 32 years old….I’ve got a closet full of dresses, God doesn’t care that I’m in a new dress on Easter Sunday.

I confess…

I threw away a copy of the Wall Street Journal yesterday straight from the mailbox that Stephen never saw. He signed up online a couple weeks ago for a free trail to read full articles they were posting about the particular Investment company that handles his 401k. He had no idea he would receive actual newspapers in the mail. Naturally, being Stephen Stafford, the son of Steve Stafford…he thought it was pretty cool that he was getting the Wall Street Journal newspaper in the mail EVERY. DAY. I don’t like clutter. Newspapers are clutter. For less than a week, he’d skim the front page, fold it up, and leave them on the coffee table. Nope. Not how we’re going to play this game. I asked him a few times to throw them away when he finished…nothing, still there. Yesterday, I grabbed the mail on my way to work, and well…..the WSJ didn’t make it back inside the house. Insert me using this popular hashtag for the first time, ever…#sorrynotsorry

I confess…
That Stephen typically doesn't read my blog...reeeeealllly hoping today's not the day he starts!

I confess...
A Peach Nehi or piece of dark chocolate can totally change the outlook of my day. There I said it.




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