Question:

<sticks tongue out You just want to see my wig, don’t you! With hope and heart, Kathleen

Nah, I meant about having all that drama & then looking at the calender & realizing maybe hormones had a little to do with it! I’m sure the haircut looks good, or your regular stylist would have insisted on fixing it. hugs, Amy

Response:

How do you make a hormone? Wear boots to bed Or don’t pay her! Suckful day Kathleen! All round suckful. But oh so encouraging that despite all those tears and tribulations, you never even thought about smoking. And that is hope indeed! Paula

– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – I had an awful day yesterday. I went to my Dr’s for a minor thing.  Stopped by the Dollar store, in search of a cleaning product that my regular store quit carrying, and saw a hair salon.  I desperately needed my haircut, and Stevie (who has always had down to her butt hair) wanted hers cut before school too.  So there we go.  Stevie got about 8 inches cut off, and though it looks adorable I shed a tear or two.  Well the woman couldn’t fix mine, but it was OK.  It’s naturally curly and very few people can fix it.  I get home and wash it (to wash out the style and do my own), and it’s way too short.  I was sobbing while washing my hair. A quick call to my usual hair person, she can see me in the afternoon. My big client calls me.  I cleaned an apartment yesterday and they had some complaints.  Arrrrggghhhh.  These college kids come, rent these crappy apartments, and their parents want them to look like new.  She (the apt.  manager) wanted me to scrub paint off a countertop.  A couple other minor things, I had to vacuum (I skipped that because they were tearing out the carpet but I guess I am supposed to do it anyway).  I have a checklist I use.  They added some things to the checklist.  Where it says "mirrors" they wrote in "Streak-free".  I’m sorry but if they want things perfect then I am not the right person. They do not pay me  enough to get everything shiny sparkling perfect. They do not pay me to scrub countertops.  I really like this apt. manager, and I appreciate the work, but it just ain’t worth it.  I cry some more, talk to a friend, and do the work. I go in and tell the apt manager that I finished up, and that I think she needs to find someone else.  She couldn’t believe me, and said she couldn’t find someone on short notice.  I told her how I felt, (like how writing ’streak free’ on my checklist is a bit unrealistic and the countertop thing) and she bends over backwards to make me feel better. She says next time she will make the maintanance guy scrub the counters.  OK.  Much better! Next.  Go to my bible study.  My friend that I do this Bible study with (Search for Significance) loves my hair.  Hers is naturally curly too, and so she empathized but loved the cut.  OK.  On to my hair person.  She loved it too.  Didn’t want to do anything to it.  No color, no cut, no perm, she thinks it’s perfect. I come home and relay all this to DH and look at the calander…… oh.  It’s hormones.  That’s all.  Half a day of crying for what? *blush*  DH loves the haircuts too. The point is?  I still have bad days.  I didn’t even think about smoking.  Not even once! It gets better, folks! And today is a brand new day!! With hope and heart, Kathleen It has been one wicked precious year, one wicked awesome miraculous month, two wicked exclamation-filled weeks, five wicked joyous days, 6 wicked exhilarating hours, 16 wicked cool minutes and 21 wicked extraordinary seconds since I smoked, much to my total astonishment and dismay! I have mentally mutilated 12427 stinky, wicked nasty, health destroying, joy stealing, death expediators; saving $2,796.26 to be spent frivolously on black leather swimsuits, snowcones and funnel cakes at 6 Flags (the closest amusement park) for Stevie and I, maybe a trip down to Port Aransas or up to Dallas, certainly the new LoTR movie and extended version DVD, and a bunch of other totally unnecessary but fun stuff! Life saved to be spent dancing wickedly and singing at the top of my lungs: 6 weeks, 1 day, 3 hours, 35 minutes. — If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, because you know what you are. ~Mother Theresa

Response:

Elle, I just love you so!  We will have to meet someday. I feel better, and *everyone* LOVES my hair. I still hate it. With hope and heart, Short-haired Kathleen — If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, because you know what you are. ~Mother Theresa : Kathleen, : : Thanks for sharing!  I really love having you back here. : : Your hair will grow out again.  Hope you feel better today : : hugs, : : elle :

: I had an awful day yesterday. : : :

Response:

Yep, Patsy, you are right on!  I’m going to live…  me thinks! (hugs backatcha) With hope and heart, Kathleen — If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, because you know what you are. ~Mother Theresa : Awwwwwwww Kathleen….i’m sorry u had a bad day..:( big (((((((((((((((((( : Kathleen))))))))))))….i can share the hair thing hun….I’m a hairdresser : od 34 yrs and natural curly hair is so hard to do for a lot of : hairdresser…..they dont realize how much it draws up after it : drys….luckley i had enough experience in this when my son got : married…..his wife has hair down to here butt and hangs in long ringlettes : so i keep here hair cut and bangs have to be left long to be right expecialy : with her cow licks….ok done with my hair explaining about curly hair hell : i am in the brain fog stage now….anyway i’m so happy that day is over and : i know smokeing is not an option for u anymore and that wonderful…..have a : better peaceful day……hugs Patsy

Response:

Did I read that wrong or has Stevie had 8 inches cut off her butt hair?

Sorry, I don’t usually do this, but… ROFLMAO hugs, elle – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – I had an awful day yesterday.

Response:

Kathleen, Thanks for sharing!  I really love having you back here. Your hair will grow out again.  Hope you feel better today hugs, elle

– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – I had an awful day yesterday.

Response:

Awwwwwwww Kathleen….i’m sorry u had a bad day..:( big (((((((((((((((((( Kathleen))))))))))))….i can share the hair thing hun….I’m a hairdresser od 34 yrs and natural curly hair is so hard to do for a lot of hairdresser…..they dont realize how much it draws up after it drys….luckley i had enough experience in this when my son got married…..his wife has hair down to here butt and hangs in long ringlettes so i keep here hair cut and bangs have to be left long to be right expecialy with her cow licks….ok done with my hair explaining about curly hair hell i am in the brain fog stage now….anyway i’m so happy that day is over and i know smokeing is not an option for u anymore and that wonderful…..have a better peaceful day……hugs Patsy

Response:

<sticks tongue out You just want to see my wig, don’t you! With hope and heart, Kathleen — If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, because you know what you are. ~Mother Theresa : Hey Kathleen, : I feel your pain. he he Really I do. : : Amy

: I had an awful day yesterday. : : I went to my Dr’s for a minor thing.  Stopped by the Dollar store, in : search of a cleaning product that my regular store quit carrying, and : saw a hair salon.  I desperately needed my haircut, and Stevie (who : has always had down to her butt hair) wanted hers cut before school : too.  So there we go.  Stevie got about 8 inches cut off, and though : it looks adorable I shed a tear or two.  Well the woman couldn’t fix : mine, but it was OK.  It’s naturally curly and very few people can fix : it.  I get home and wash it (to wash out the style and do my own), and : it’s way too short.  I was sobbing while washing my hair. : : A quick call to my usual hair person, she can see me in the afternoon. : : My big client calls me.  I cleaned an apartment yesterday and they had : some complaints.  Arrrrggghhhh.  These college kids come, rent these : crappy apartments, and their parents want them to look like new. She : (the apt.  manager) wanted me to scrub paint off a countertop.  A : couple other minor things, I had to vacuum (I skipped that because : they were tearing out the carpet but I guess I am supposed to do it : anyway).  I have a checklist I use.  They added some things to the : checklist.  Where it says "mirrors" they wrote in "Streak-free". I’m : sorry but if they want things perfect then I am not the right person. : They do not pay me  enough to get everything shiny sparkling perfect. : They do not pay me to scrub countertops.  I really like this apt. : manager, and I appreciate the work, but it just ain’t worth it.  I cry : some more, talk to a friend, and do the work. : : I go in and tell the apt manager that I finished up, and that I think : she needs to find someone else.  She couldn’t believe me, and said she : couldn’t find someone on short notice.  I told her how I felt, (like : how writing ’streak free’ on my checklist is a bit unrealistic and the : countertop thing) and she bends over backwards to make me feel better. : She says next time she will make the maintanance guy scrub the : counters.  OK.  Much better! : : Next.  Go to my bible study.  My friend that I do this Bible study : with (Search for Significance) loves my hair.  Hers is naturally curly : too, and so she empathized but loved the cut.  OK.  On to my hair : person.  She loved it too.  Didn’t want to do anything to it.  No : color, no cut, no perm, she thinks it’s perfect. : : I come home and relay all this to DH and look at the calander…… : oh.  It’s hormones.  That’s all.  Half a day of crying for what? : *blush*  DH loves the haircuts too. : : The point is?  I still have bad days.  I didn’t even think about : smoking.  Not even once! : It gets better, folks! : : And today is a brand new day!! : With hope and heart, : Kathleen : It has been one wicked precious year, one wicked awesome miraculous : month, two wicked exclamation-filled weeks, five wicked joyous days, 6 : wicked exhilarating hours, 16 wicked cool minutes and 21 wicked : extraordinary seconds since I smoked, much to my total astonishment : and dismay! I have mentally mutilated 12427 stinky, wicked nasty, : health destroying, joy stealing, death expediators; saving $2,796.26 : to be spent frivolously on black leather swimsuits, snowcones and : funnel cakes at 6 Flags (the closest amusement park) for Stevie and I, : maybe a trip down to Port Aransas or up to Dallas, certainly the new : LoTR movie and extended version DVD, and a bunch of other totally : unnecessary but fun stuff! Life saved to be spent dancing wickedly and : singing at the top of my lungs: 6 weeks, 1 day, 3 hours, 35 minutes. : : : — : If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, : because you know what you are. : ~Mother Theresa : : : : :

Response:

Hey Kathleen, I feel your pain. he he Really I do. Amy

– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – I had an awful day yesterday. I went to my Dr’s for a minor thing.  Stopped by the Dollar store, in search of a cleaning product that my regular store quit carrying, and saw a hair salon.  I desperately needed my haircut, and Stevie (who has always had down to her butt hair) wanted hers cut before school too.  So there we go.  Stevie got about 8 inches cut off, and though it looks adorable I shed a tear or two.  Well the woman couldn’t fix mine, but it was OK.  It’s naturally curly and very few people can fix it.  I get home and wash it (to wash out the style and do my own), and it’s way too short.  I was sobbing while washing my hair. A quick call to my usual hair person, she can see me in the afternoon. My big client calls me.  I cleaned an apartment yesterday and they had some complaints.  Arrrrggghhhh.  These college kids come, rent these crappy apartments, and their parents want them to look like new.  She (the apt.  manager) wanted me to scrub paint off a countertop.  A couple other minor things, I had to vacuum (I skipped that because they were tearing out the carpet but I guess I am supposed to do it anyway).  I have a checklist I use.  They added some things to the checklist.  Where it says "mirrors" they wrote in "Streak-free".  I’m sorry but if they want things perfect then I am not the right person. They do not pay me  enough to get everything shiny sparkling perfect. They do not pay me to scrub countertops.  I really like this apt. manager, and I appreciate the work, but it just ain’t worth it.  I cry some more, talk to a friend, and do the work. I go in and tell the apt manager that I finished up, and that I think she needs to find someone else.  She couldn’t believe me, and said she couldn’t find someone on short notice.  I told her how I felt, (like how writing ’streak free’ on my checklist is a bit unrealistic and the countertop thing) and she bends over backwards to make me feel better. She says next time she will make the maintanance guy scrub the counters.  OK.  Much better! Next.  Go to my bible study.  My friend that I do this Bible study with (Search for Significance) loves my hair.  Hers is naturally curly too, and so she empathized but loved the cut.  OK.  On to my hair person.  She loved it too.  Didn’t want to do anything to it.  No color, no cut, no perm, she thinks it’s perfect. I come home and relay all this to DH and look at the calander…… oh.  It’s hormones.  That’s all.  Half a day of crying for what? *blush*  DH loves the haircuts too. The point is?  I still have bad days.  I didn’t even think about smoking.  Not even once! It gets better, folks! And today is a brand new day!! With hope and heart, Kathleen It has been one wicked precious year, one wicked awesome miraculous month, two wicked exclamation-filled weeks, five wicked joyous days, 6 wicked exhilarating hours, 16 wicked cool minutes and 21 wicked extraordinary seconds since I smoked, much to my total astonishment and dismay! I have mentally mutilated 12427 stinky, wicked nasty, health destroying, joy stealing, death expediators; saving $2,796.26 to be spent frivolously on black leather swimsuits, snowcones and funnel cakes at 6 Flags (the closest amusement park) for Stevie and I, maybe a trip down to Port Aransas or up to Dallas, certainly the new LoTR movie and extended version DVD, and a bunch of other totally unnecessary but fun stuff! Life saved to be spent dancing wickedly and singing at the top of my lungs: 6 weeks, 1 day, 3 hours, 35 minutes. — If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, because you know what you are. ~Mother Theresa

Response:

ROFLMAO… That is soooo funny It really should be compulsary for every f*$king person to do at least 1 weeks manual labor for another person, and be abused for it – just so that they know what mistreating someone who works for you must feel like when you get up them! Either that, or everyone should read ‘how to win friends & influence people’ – key rule is to never ever mistreat people, or speak ill of them no matter what the circumstances (though I’m sure Mr Carnegie didn’t have AS3 troll’s in his day) That being said, I’ve never cleaned houses for others (cause my domestic skills suck!), but my Mum has done it for several years, just as a part time job more than anything.   And over all those years, she has only had a few people that were hard to please, but in the process has met 3 life long friends that she started out working for.  Good to see that all people that have money or that use hired help aren’t all pretentious snobs. Frampy

– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – business and you primarily are doing all the work, no employees right? Been there, done that. I once did it for a year before I gave it up and went back to work in an office. I would rather have a boss breathing down my neck then ever do that again. There is NO pleasing some people, no matter how hard you try and you are certainly not appreciated in the way that you should be. I have some stories…… LOL One I’ll share. I was cleaning house for a woman with a magnificent home. Absolutely beautiful and along with her precious items and wonderful furnishings came a sloppy, slovenly, dirty teenage boy and his friends. This woman was extremely picky and almost always found something "I forgot to do" or "didn’t do right". I made sure each time that I used my own checklist made just for her home and even went so far as to have whoever was home at the time to double check my work and initial the damn paper. (she paid rather well so I went above and beyond otherwise I would have told her to stick the job many moons before that) So I’m always really careful when cleaning kitchens that they look wonderful when I’m finished. Hers was no exception. I get it all done and move on into the livingroom area when her sons come in through the kitchen door with muddy feet and proceed to make snacks at the counter leaving crumbs all over the place. One of them decided to bust up beer pretzels on the kitchen island and pretzel pieces flew all over the floor and just everywhere. So I finish the rest of the house. I get all done and her highness was sitting in the family room doing needlework. I come in and have her look over my checklist. She walks around, spot checking. Then she goes into the kitchen and flips out on ME. She accused me of not even doing the kitchen and when I explained that it was totally done until her heathon son came home with his friends and what THEY did in there, she told me to clean it up or I wouln’t get paid. She then goes back into the family room, pissed off. NOT as pissed off as me though. So, I proceed to take out all the dishes I had washed and I smeared butter on them, put the pretzel pieces into the sink with the dishes and made sure the glasses were good and smeared. Then I sprayed my dusting spray all over her glass top stove and wiped. You can imagine how THAT looked. Then I plugged in the vac, unzipped the bag and turned that puppy on! Dust and dirt flew everywhere!! <imagine how pretty those dishes looked with the dust mixed into the butter like that, I was proud I pack up all my stuff and put it in the car. Went back into the family room and told her "this one’s on me" and said my goodbyes and left. I never looked back. Next day, bought the paper to find a job. LOL Cleaning for other people is hard work. They expect you to do it all and not pay you near enough to do it. They think you’re the "maid" and there’s a huge difference between what I was doing and Alice on the Brady Bunch. I commend you for the work you do. — Deeds I had an awful day yesterday. I went to my Dr’s for a minor thing.  Stopped by the Dollar store, in search of a cleaning product that my regular store quit carrying, and saw a hair salon.  I desperately needed my haircut, and Stevie (who has always had down to her butt hair) wanted hers cut before school too.  So there we go.  Stevie got about 8 inches cut off, and though it looks adorable I shed a tear or two.  Well the woman couldn’t fix mine, but it was OK.  It’s naturally curly and very few people can fix it.  I get home and wash it (to wash out the style and do my own), and it’s way too short.  I was sobbing while washing my hair. A quick call to my usual hair person, she can see me in the afternoon. My big client calls me.  I cleaned an apartment yesterday and they had some complaints.  Arrrrggghhhh.  These college kids come, rent these crappy apartments, and their parents want them to look like new.  She (the apt.  manager) wanted me to scrub paint off a countertop.  A couple other minor things, I had to vacuum (I skipped that because they were tearing out the carpet but I guess I am supposed to do it anyway).  I have a checklist I use.  They added some things to the checklist.  Where it says "mirrors" they wrote in "Streak-free".  I’m sorry but if they want things perfect then I am not the right person. They do not pay me  enough to get everything shiny sparkling perfect. They do not pay me to scrub countertops.  I really like this apt. manager, and I appreciate the work, but it just ain’t worth it.  I cry some more, talk to a friend, and do the work. I go in and tell the apt manager that I finished up, and that I think she needs to find someone else.  She couldn’t believe me, and said she couldn’t find someone on short notice.  I told her how I felt, (like how writing ’streak free’ on my checklist is a bit unrealistic and the countertop thing) and she bends over backwards to make me feel better. She says next time she will make the maintanance guy scrub the counters.  OK.  Much better! Next.  Go to my bible study.  My friend that I do this Bible study with (Search for Significance) loves my hair.  Hers is naturally curly too, and so she empathized but loved the cut.  OK.  On to my hair person.  She loved it too.  Didn’t want to do anything to it.  No color, no cut, no perm, she thinks it’s perfect. I come home and relay all this to DH and look at the calander…… oh.  It’s hormones.  That’s all.  Half a day of crying for what? *blush*  DH loves the haircuts too. The point is?  I still have bad days.  I didn’t even think about smoking.  Not even once! It gets better, folks! And today is a brand new day!! With hope and heart, Kathleen It has been one wicked precious year, one wicked awesome miraculous month, two wicked exclamation-filled weeks, five wicked joyous days, 6 wicked exhilarating hours, 16 wicked cool minutes and 21 wicked extraordinary seconds since I smoked, much to my total astonishment and dismay! I have mentally mutilated 12427 stinky, wicked nasty, health destroying, joy stealing, death expediators; saving $2,796.26 to be spent frivolously on black leather swimsuits, snowcones and funnel cakes at 6 Flags (the closest amusement park) for Stevie and I, maybe a trip down to Port Aransas or up to Dallas, certainly the new LoTR movie and extended version DVD, and a bunch of other totally unnecessary but fun stuff! Life saved to be spent dancing wickedly and singing at the top of my lungs: 6 weeks, 1 day, 3 hours, 35 minutes. — If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, because you know what you are. ~Mother Theresa

Response:

The day might suck be we don’t!  ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha Maybe I will like my hair in a couple days. If not, I will have to get my wig out. (I’d send a pic in, but they all turn out too dark. With hope and heart, Kathleen — If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, because you know what you are. ~Mother Theresa : OMG Kathleen, what a day. but some days reallly suck and you just hope the : day will be over soon. But look at the bright site your DH loves your : haircut and you have less work with it. I hope you are having a better day : today. : Happy PolarBear :

: I had an awful day yesterday. : : I went to my Dr’s for a minor thing.  Stopped by the Dollar store, in : search of a cleaning product that my regular store quit carrying, and : saw a hair salon.  I desperately needed my haircut, and Stevie (who : has always had down to her butt hair) wanted hers cut before school : too.  So there we go.  Stevie got about 8 inches cut off, and though : it looks adorable I shed a tear or two.  Well the woman couldn’t fix : mine, but it was OK.  It’s naturally curly and very few people can fix : it.  I get home and wash it (to wash out the style and do my own), and : it’s way too short.  I was sobbing while washing my hair. : : A quick call to my usual hair person, she can see me in the afternoon. : : My big client calls me.  I cleaned an apartment yesterday and they had : some complaints.  Arrrrggghhhh.  These college kids come, rent these : crappy apartments, and their parents want them to look like new. She : (the apt.  manager) wanted me to scrub paint off a countertop.  A : couple other minor things, I had to vacuum (I skipped that because : they were tearing out the carpet but I guess I am supposed to do it : anyway).  I have a checklist I use.  They added some things to the : checklist.  Where it says "mirrors" they wrote in "Streak-free". I’m : sorry but if they want things perfect then I am not the right person. : They do not pay me  enough to get everything shiny sparkling perfect. : They do not pay me to scrub countertops.  I really like this apt. : manager, and I appreciate the work, but it just ain’t worth it.  I cry : some more, talk to a friend, and do the work. : : I go in and tell the apt manager that I finished up, and that I think : she needs to find someone else.  She couldn’t believe me, and said she : couldn’t find someone on short notice.  I told her how I felt, (like : how writing ’streak free’ on my checklist is a bit unrealistic and the : countertop thing) and she bends over backwards to make me feel better. : She says next time she will make the maintanance guy scrub the : counters.  OK.  Much better! : : Next.  Go to my bible study.  My friend that I do this Bible study : with (Search for Significance) loves my hair.  Hers is naturally curly : too, and so she empathized but loved the cut.  OK.  On to my hair : person.  She loved it too.  Didn’t want to do anything to it.  No : color, no cut, no perm, she thinks it’s perfect. : : I come home and relay all this to DH and look at the calander…… : oh.  It’s hormones.  That’s all.  Half a day of crying for what? : *blush*  DH loves the haircuts too. : : The point is?  I still have bad days.  I didn’t even think about : smoking.  Not even once! : It gets better, folks! : : And today is a brand new day!! : With hope and heart, : Kathleen : It has been one wicked precious year, one wicked awesome miraculous : month, two wicked exclamation-filled weeks, five wicked joyous days, 6 : wicked exhilarating hours, 16 wicked cool minutes and 21 wicked : extraordinary seconds since I smoked, much to my total astonishment : and dismay! I have mentally mutilated 12427 stinky, wicked nasty, : health destroying, joy stealing, death expediators; saving $2,796.26 : to be spent frivolously on black leather swimsuits, snowcones and : funnel cakes at 6 Flags (the closest amusement park) for Stevie and I, : maybe a trip down to Port Aransas or up to Dallas, certainly the new : LoTR movie and extended version DVD, and a bunch of other totally : unnecessary but fun stuff! Life saved to be spent dancing wickedly and : singing at the top of my lungs: 6 weeks, 1 day, 3 hours, 35 minutes. : : : — : If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, : because you know what you are. : ~Mother Theresa : : : :

Response:

LOL 8 inches cut off of her hair, which was nearly down to her butt.  I know it was a weird way of saying it, but does anyone know the proper spelling of Hyne?  Heine?  heinie? tush. — If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, because you know what you are. ~Mother Theresa : Did I read that wrong or has Stevie had 8 inches cut off her butt hair? : :

: I had an awful day yesterday. : : I went to my Dr’s for a minor thing.  Stopped by the Dollar store, in : search of a cleaning product that my regular store quit carrying, and : saw a hair salon.  I desperately needed my haircut, and Stevie (who : has always had down to her butt hair) wanted hers cut before school : too.  So there we go.  Stevie got about 8 inches cut off, and though : it looks adorable I shed a tear or two.  Well the woman couldn’t fix : mine, but it was OK.  It’s naturally curly and very few people can fix : it.  I get home and wash it (to wash out the style and do my own), and : it’s way too short.  I was sobbing while washing my hair. : : A quick call to my usual hair person, she can see me in the afternoon. : : My big client calls me.  I cleaned an apartment yesterday and they had : some complaints.  Arrrrggghhhh.  These college kids come, rent these : crappy apartments, and their parents want them to look like new. She : (the apt.  manager) wanted me to scrub paint off a countertop.  A : couple other minor things, I had to vacuum (I skipped that because : they were tearing out the carpet but I guess I am supposed to do it : anyway).  I have a checklist I use.  They added some things to the : checklist.  Where it says "mirrors" they wrote in "Streak-free". I’m : sorry but if they want things perfect then I am not the right person. : They do not pay me  enough to get everything shiny sparkling perfect. : They do not pay me to scrub countertops.  I really like this apt. : manager, and I appreciate the work, but it just ain’t worth it.  I cry : some more, talk to a friend, and do the work. : : I go in and tell the apt manager that I finished up, and that I think : she needs to find someone else.  She couldn’t believe me, and said she : couldn’t find someone on short notice.  I told her how I felt, (like : how writing ’streak free’ on my checklist is a bit unrealistic and the : countertop thing) and she bends over backwards to make me feel better. : She says next time she will make the maintanance guy scrub the : counters.  OK.  Much better! : : Next.  Go to my bible study.  My friend that I do this Bible study : with (Search for Significance) loves my hair.  Hers is naturally curly : too, and so she empathized but loved the cut.  OK.  On to my hair : person.  She loved it too.  Didn’t want to do anything to it.  No : color, no cut, no perm, she thinks it’s perfect. : : I come home and relay all this to DH and look at the calander…… : oh.  It’s hormones.  That’s all.  Half a day of crying for what? : *blush*  DH loves the haircuts too. : : The point is?  I still have bad days.  I didn’t even think about : smoking.  Not even once! : It gets better, folks! : : And today is a brand new day!! : With hope and heart, : Kathleen : It has been one wicked precious year, one wicked awesome miraculous : month, two wicked exclamation-filled weeks, five wicked joyous days, 6 : wicked exhilarating hours, 16 wicked cool minutes and 21 wicked : extraordinary seconds since I smoked, much to my total astonishment : and dismay! I have mentally mutilated 12427 stinky, wicked nasty, : health destroying, joy stealing, death expediators; saving $2,796.26 : to be spent frivolously on black leather swimsuits, snowcones and : funnel cakes at 6 Flags (the closest amusement park) for Stevie and I, : maybe a trip down to Port Aransas or up to Dallas, certainly the new : LoTR movie and extended version DVD, and a bunch of other totally : unnecessary but fun stuff! Life saved to be spent dancing wickedly and : singing at the top of my lungs: 6 weeks, 1 day, 3 hours, 35 minutes. : : : — : If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, : because you know what you are. : ~Mother Theresa : : : :

Response:

<snip hilarious cleaning experience : Cleaning for other people is hard work. They expect you to do it all and not : pay you near enough to do it. They think you’re the "maid" and there’s a : huge difference between what I was doing and Alice on the Brady Bunch. I : commend you for the work you do. : — : Deeds You are so right!  I have been very careful to only keep clients who appreciate me and pay me what I am worth.  But yes, I have had to let a few go because they just wanted more, and I have learned the hard way that in business there are no "favors". But on the other hand, I only work 2-3 days a week, I get to do all the volunteer stuff with my daughters at school and have lots of fun with them in the summer, don’t have to stress if they need to go to the Dr (8yo has asthma), and have plenty of time for me…  AND get to contribute financially to my family. Occasionally I think about getting a ‘real’ timeclock-punching job, but so far things have worked out.  I do think that, like yesterday, I had to surrender the job (to the God of my understanding) and just say "Hey, if I should be doing something else then I am ready." With hope and heart, Kathleen

Response:

Did I read that wrong or has Stevie had 8 inches cut off her butt hair?

– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – I had an awful day yesterday. I went to my Dr’s for a minor thing.  Stopped by the Dollar store, in search of a cleaning product that my regular store quit carrying, and saw a hair salon.  I desperately needed my haircut, and Stevie (who has always had down to her butt hair) wanted hers cut before school too.  So there we go.  Stevie got about 8 inches cut off, and though it looks adorable I shed a tear or two.  Well the woman couldn’t fix mine, but it was OK.  It’s naturally curly and very few people can fix it.  I get home and wash it (to wash out the style and do my own), and it’s way too short.  I was sobbing while washing my hair. A quick call to my usual hair person, she can see me in the afternoon. My big client calls me.  I cleaned an apartment yesterday and they had some complaints.  Arrrrggghhhh.  These college kids come, rent these crappy apartments, and their parents want them to look like new.  She (the apt.  manager) wanted me to scrub paint off a countertop.  A couple other minor things, I had to vacuum (I skipped that because they were tearing out the carpet but I guess I am supposed to do it anyway).  I have a checklist I use.  They added some things to the checklist.  Where it says "mirrors" they wrote in "Streak-free".  I’m sorry but if they want things perfect then I am not the right person. They do not pay me  enough to get everything shiny sparkling perfect. They do not pay me to scrub countertops.  I really like this apt. manager, and I appreciate the work, but it just ain’t worth it.  I cry some more, talk to a friend, and do the work. I go in and tell the apt manager that I finished up, and that I think she needs to find someone else.  She couldn’t believe me, and said she couldn’t find someone on short notice.  I told her how I felt, (like how writing ’streak free’ on my checklist is a bit unrealistic and the countertop thing) and she bends over backwards to make me feel better. She says next time she will make the maintanance guy scrub the counters.  OK.  Much better! Next.  Go to my bible study.  My friend that I do this Bible study with (Search for Significance) loves my hair.  Hers is naturally curly too, and so she empathized but loved the cut.  OK.  On to my hair person.  She loved it too.  Didn’t want to do anything to it.  No color, no cut, no perm, she thinks it’s perfect. I come home and relay all this to DH and look at the calander…… oh.  It’s hormones.  That’s all.  Half a day of crying for what? *blush*  DH loves the haircuts too. The point is?  I still have bad days.  I didn’t even think about smoking.  Not even once! It gets better, folks! And today is a brand new day!! With hope and heart, Kathleen It has been one wicked precious year, one wicked awesome miraculous month, two wicked exclamation-filled weeks, five wicked joyous days, 6 wicked exhilarating hours, 16 wicked cool minutes and 21 wicked extraordinary seconds since I smoked, much to my total astonishment and dismay! I have mentally mutilated 12427 stinky, wicked nasty, health destroying, joy stealing, death expediators; saving $2,796.26 to be spent frivolously on black leather swimsuits, snowcones and funnel cakes at 6 Flags (the closest amusement park) for Stevie and I, maybe a trip down to Port Aransas or up to Dallas, certainly the new LoTR movie and extended version DVD, and a bunch of other totally unnecessary but fun stuff! Life saved to be spent dancing wickedly and singing at the top of my lungs: 6 weeks, 1 day, 3 hours, 35 minutes. — If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, because you know what you are. ~Mother Theresa

Response:

business and you primarily are doing all the work, no employees right? Been there, done that. I once did it for a year before I gave it up and went back to work in an office. I would rather have a boss breathing down my neck then ever do that again. There is NO pleasing some people, no matter how hard you try and you are certainly not appreciated in the way that you should be. I have some stories…… LOL One I’ll share. I was cleaning house for a woman with a magnificent home. Absolutely beautiful and along with her precious items and wonderful furnishings came a sloppy, slovenly, dirty teenage boy and his friends. This woman was extremely picky and almost always found something "I forgot to do" or "didn’t do right". I made sure each time that I used my own checklist made just for her home and even went so far as to have whoever was home at the time to double check my work and initial the damn paper. (she paid rather well so I went above and beyond otherwise I would have told her to stick the job many moons before that) So I’m always really careful when cleaning kitchens that they look wonderful when I’m finished. Hers was no exception. I get it all done and move on into the livingroom area when her sons come in through the kitchen door with muddy feet and proceed to make snacks at the counter leaving crumbs all over the place. One of them decided to bust up beer pretzels on the kitchen island and pretzel pieces flew all over the floor and just everywhere. So I finish the rest of the house. I get all done and her highness was sitting in the family room doing needlework. I come in and have her look over my checklist. She walks around, spot checking. Then she goes into the kitchen and flips out on ME. She accused me of not even doing the kitchen and when I explained that it was totally done until her heathon son came home with his friends and what THEY did in there, she told me to clean it up or I wouln’t get paid. She then goes back into the family room, pissed off. NOT as pissed off as me though. So, I proceed to take out all the dishes I had washed and I smeared butter on them, put the pretzel pieces into the sink with the dishes and made sure the glasses were good and smeared. Then I sprayed my dusting spray all over her glass top stove and wiped. You can imagine how THAT looked. Then I plugged in the vac, unzipped the bag and turned that puppy on! Dust and dirt flew everywhere!! <imagine how pretty those dishes looked with the dust mixed into the butter like that, I was proud I pack up all my stuff and put it in the car. Went back into the family room and told her "this one’s on me" and said my goodbyes and left. I never looked back. Next day, bought the paper to find a job. LOL Cleaning for other people is hard work. They expect you to do it all and not pay you near enough to do it. They think you’re the "maid" and there’s a huge difference between what I was doing and Alice on the Brady Bunch. I commend you for the work you do. — Deeds

– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – I had an awful day yesterday. I went to my Dr’s for a minor thing.  Stopped by the Dollar store, in search of a cleaning product that my regular store quit carrying, and saw a hair salon.  I desperately needed my haircut, and Stevie (who has always had down to her butt hair) wanted hers cut before school too.  So there we go.  Stevie got about 8 inches cut off, and though it looks adorable I shed a tear or two.  Well the woman couldn’t fix mine, but it was OK.  It’s naturally curly and very few people can fix it.  I get home and wash it (to wash out the style and do my own), and it’s way too short.  I was sobbing while washing my hair. A quick call to my usual hair person, she can see me in the afternoon. My big client calls me.  I cleaned an apartment yesterday and they had some complaints.  Arrrrggghhhh.  These college kids come, rent these crappy apartments, and their parents want them to look like new.  She (the apt.  manager) wanted me to scrub paint off a countertop.  A couple other minor things, I had to vacuum (I skipped that because they were tearing out the carpet but I guess I am supposed to do it anyway).  I have a checklist I use.  They added some things to the checklist.  Where it says "mirrors" they wrote in "Streak-free".  I’m sorry but if they want things perfect then I am not the right person. They do not pay me  enough to get everything shiny sparkling perfect. They do not pay me to scrub countertops.  I really like this apt. manager, and I appreciate the work, but it just ain’t worth it.  I cry some more, talk to a friend, and do the work. I go in and tell the apt manager that I finished up, and that I think she needs to find someone else.  She couldn’t believe me, and said she couldn’t find someone on short notice.  I told her how I felt, (like how writing ’streak free’ on my checklist is a bit unrealistic and the countertop thing) and she bends over backwards to make me feel better. She says next time she will make the maintanance guy scrub the counters.  OK.  Much better! Next.  Go to my bible study.  My friend that I do this Bible study with (Search for Significance) loves my hair.  Hers is naturally curly too, and so she empathized but loved the cut.  OK.  On to my hair person.  She loved it too.  Didn’t want to do anything to it.  No color, no cut, no perm, she thinks it’s perfect. I come home and relay all this to DH and look at the calander…… oh.  It’s hormones.  That’s all.  Half a day of crying for what? *blush*  DH loves the haircuts too. The point is?  I still have bad days.  I didn’t even think about smoking.  Not even once! It gets better, folks! And today is a brand new day!! With hope and heart, Kathleen It has been one wicked precious year, one wicked awesome miraculous month, two wicked exclamation-filled weeks, five wicked joyous days, 6 wicked exhilarating hours, 16 wicked cool minutes and 21 wicked extraordinary seconds since I smoked, much to my total astonishment and dismay! I have mentally mutilated 12427 stinky, wicked nasty, health destroying, joy stealing, death expediators; saving $2,796.26 to be spent frivolously on black leather swimsuits, snowcones and funnel cakes at 6 Flags (the closest amusement park) for Stevie and I, maybe a trip down to Port Aransas or up to Dallas, certainly the new LoTR movie and extended version DVD, and a bunch of other totally unnecessary but fun stuff! Life saved to be spent dancing wickedly and singing at the top of my lungs: 6 weeks, 1 day, 3 hours, 35 minutes. — If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, because you know what you are. ~Mother Theresa

Response:

OMG Kathleen, what a day. but some days reallly suck and you just hope the day will be over soon. But look at the bright site your DH loves your haircut and you have less work with it. I hope you are having a better day today. Happy PolarBear

– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – I had an awful day yesterday. I went to my Dr’s for a minor thing.  Stopped by the Dollar store, in search of a cleaning product that my regular store quit carrying, and saw a hair salon.  I desperately needed my haircut, and Stevie (who has always had down to her butt hair) wanted hers cut before school too.  So there we go.  Stevie got about 8 inches cut off, and though it looks adorable I shed a tear or two.  Well the woman couldn’t fix mine, but it was OK.  It’s naturally curly and very few people can fix it.  I get home and wash it (to wash out the style and do my own), and it’s way too short.  I was sobbing while washing my hair. A quick call to my usual hair person, she can see me in the afternoon. My big client calls me.  I cleaned an apartment yesterday and they had some complaints.  Arrrrggghhhh.  These college kids come, rent these crappy apartments, and their parents want them to look like new.  She (the apt.  manager) wanted me to scrub paint off a countertop.  A couple other minor things, I had to vacuum (I skipped that because they were tearing out the carpet but I guess I am supposed to do it anyway).  I have a checklist I use.  They added some things to the checklist.  Where it says "mirrors" they wrote in "Streak-free".  I’m sorry but if they want things perfect then I am not the right person. They do not pay me  enough to get everything shiny sparkling perfect. They do not pay me to scrub countertops.  I really like this apt. manager, and I appreciate the work, but it just ain’t worth it.  I cry some more, talk to a friend, and do the work. I go in and tell the apt manager that I finished up, and that I think she needs to find someone else.  She couldn’t believe me, and said she couldn’t find someone on short notice.  I told her how I felt, (like how writing ’streak free’ on my checklist is a bit unrealistic and the countertop thing) and she bends over backwards to make me feel better. She says next time she will make the maintanance guy scrub the counters.  OK.  Much better! Next.  Go to my bible study.  My friend that I do this Bible study with (Search for Significance) loves my hair.  Hers is naturally curly too, and so she empathized but loved the cut.  OK.  On to my hair person.  She loved it too.  Didn’t want to do anything to it.  No color, no cut, no perm, she thinks it’s perfect. I come home and relay all this to DH and look at the calander…… oh.  It’s hormones.  That’s all.  Half a day of crying for what? *blush*  DH loves the haircuts too. The point is?  I still have bad days.  I didn’t even think about smoking.  Not even once! It gets better, folks! And today is a brand new day!! With hope and heart, Kathleen It has been one wicked precious year, one wicked awesome miraculous month, two wicked exclamation-filled weeks, five wicked joyous days, 6 wicked exhilarating hours, 16 wicked cool minutes and 21 wicked extraordinary seconds since I smoked, much to my total astonishment and dismay! I have mentally mutilated 12427 stinky, wicked nasty, health destroying, joy stealing, death expediators; saving $2,796.26 to be spent frivolously on black leather swimsuits, snowcones and funnel cakes at 6 Flags (the closest amusement park) for Stevie and I, maybe a trip down to Port Aransas or up to Dallas, certainly the new LoTR movie and extended version DVD, and a bunch of other totally unnecessary but fun stuff! Life saved to be spent dancing wickedly and singing at the top of my lungs: 6 weeks, 1 day, 3 hours, 35 minutes. — If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, because you know what you are. ~Mother Theresa

Response:

I had an awful day yesterday. I went to my Dr’s for a minor thing.  Stopped by the Dollar store, in search of a cleaning product that my regular store quit carrying, and saw a hair salon.  I desperately needed my haircut, and Stevie (who has always had down to her butt hair) wanted hers cut before school too.  So there we go.  Stevie got about 8 inches cut off, and though it looks adorable I shed a tear or two.  Well the woman couldn’t fix mine, but it was OK.  It’s naturally curly and very few people can fix it.  I get home and wash it (to wash out the style and do my own), and it’s way too short.  I was sobbing while washing my hair. A quick call to my usual hair person, she can see me in the afternoon. My big client calls me.  I cleaned an apartment yesterday and they had some complaints.  Arrrrggghhhh.  These college kids come, rent these crappy apartments, and their parents want them to look like new.  She (the apt.  manager) wanted me to scrub paint off a countertop.  A couple other minor things, I had to vacuum (I skipped that because they were tearing out the carpet but I guess I am supposed to do it anyway).  I have a checklist I use.  They added some things to the checklist.  Where it says "mirrors" they wrote in "Streak-free".  I’m sorry but if they want things perfect then I am not the right person. They do not pay me  enough to get everything shiny sparkling perfect. They do not pay me to scrub countertops.  I really like this apt. manager, and I appreciate the work, but it just ain’t worth it.  I cry some more, talk to a friend, and do the work. I go in and tell the apt manager that I finished up, and that I think she needs to find someone else.  She couldn’t believe me, and said she couldn’t find someone on short notice.  I told her how I felt, (like how writing ’streak free’ on my checklist is a bit unrealistic and the countertop thing) and she bends over backwards to make me feel better. She says next time she will make the maintanance guy scrub the counters.  OK.  Much better! Next.  Go to my bible study.  My friend that I do this Bible study with (Search for Significance) loves my hair.  Hers is naturally curly too, and so she empathized but loved the cut.  OK.  On to my hair person.  She loved it too.  Didn’t want to do anything to it.  No color, no cut, no perm, she thinks it’s perfect. I come home and relay all this to DH and look at the calander…… oh.  It’s hormones.  That’s all.  Half a day of crying for what? *blush*  DH loves the haircuts too. The point is?  I still have bad days.  I didn’t even think about smoking.  Not even once! It gets better, folks! And today is a brand new day!! With hope and heart, Kathleen It has been one wicked precious year, one wicked awesome miraculous month, two wicked exclamation-filled weeks, five wicked joyous days, 6 wicked exhilarating hours, 16 wicked cool minutes and 21 wicked extraordinary seconds since I smoked, much to my total astonishment and dismay! I have mentally mutilated 12427 stinky, wicked nasty, health destroying, joy stealing, death expediators; saving $2,796.26 to be spent frivolously on black leather swimsuits, snowcones and funnel cakes at 6 Flags (the closest amusement park) for Stevie and I, maybe a trip down to Port Aransas or up to Dallas, certainly the new LoTR movie and extended version DVD, and a bunch of other totally unnecessary but fun stuff! Life saved to be spent dancing wickedly and singing at the top of my lungs: 6 weeks, 1 day, 3 hours, 35 minutes. — If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, because you know what you are. ~Mother Theresa

Response:

I had an awful day yesterday. I went to my Dr’s for a minor thing.  Stopped by the Dollar store, in search of a cleaning product that my regular store quit carrying, and saw a hair salon.  I desperately needed my haircut, and Stevie (who has always had down to her butt hair) wanted hers cut before school too.  So there we go.  Stevie got about 8 inches cut off, and though it looks adorable I shed a tear or two.  Well the woman couldn’t fix mine, but it was OK.  It’s naturally curly and very few people can fix it.  I get home and wash it (to wash out the style and do my own), and it’s way too short.  I was sobbing while washing my hair. A quick call to my usual hair person, she can see me in the afternoon. My big client calls me.  I cleaned an apartment yesterday and they had some complaints.  Arrrrggghhhh.  These college kids come, rent these crappy apartments, and their parents want them to look like new.  She (the apt.  manager) wanted me to scrub paint off a countertop.  A couple other minor things, I had to vacuum (I skipped that because they were tearing out the carpet but I guess I am supposed to do it anyway).  I have a checklist I use.  They added some things to the checklist.  Where it says "mirrors" they wrote in "Streak-free".  I’m sorry but if they want things perfect then I am not the right person. They do not pay me  enough to get everything shiny sparkling perfect. They do not pay me to scrub countertops.  I really like this apt. manager, and I appreciate the work, but it just ain’t worth it.  I cry some more, talk to a friend, and do the work. I go in and tell the apt manager that I finished up, and that I think she needs to find someone else.  She couldn’t believe me, and said she couldn’t find someone on short notice.  I told her how I felt, (like how writing ’streak free’ on my checklist is a bit unrealistic and the countertop thing) and she bends over backwards to make me feel better. She says next time she will make the maintanance guy scrub the counters.  OK.  Much better! Next.  Go to my bible study.  My friend that I do this Bible study with (Search for Significance) loves my hair.  Hers is naturally curly too, and so she empathized but loved the cut.  OK.  On to my hair person.  She loved it too.  Didn’t want to do anything to it.  No color, no cut, no perm, she thinks it’s perfect. I come home and relay all this to DH and look at the calander…… oh.  It’s hormones.  That’s all.  Half a day of crying for what? *blush*  DH loves the haircuts too. The point is?  I still have bad days.  I didn’t even think about smoking.  Not even once! It gets better, folks! And today is a brand new day!! With hope and heart, Kathleen It has been one wicked precious year, one wicked awesome miraculous month, two wicked exclamation-filled weeks, five wicked joyous days, 6 wicked exhilarating hours, 16 wicked cool minutes and 21 wicked extraordinary seconds since I smoked, much to my total astonishment and dismay! I have mentally mutilated 12427 stinky, wicked nasty, health destroying, joy stealing, death expediators; saving $2,796.26 to be spent frivolously on black leather swimsuits, snowcones and funnel cakes at 6 Flags (the closest amusement park) for Stevie and I, maybe a trip down to Port Aransas or up to Dallas, certainly the new LoTR movie and extended version DVD, and a bunch of other totally unnecessary but fun stuff! Life saved to be spent dancing wickedly and singing at the top of my lungs: 6 weeks, 1 day, 3 hours, 35 minutes. — If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, because you know what you are. ~Mother Theresa

Response:

OMG Kathleen, what a day. but some days reallly suck and you just hope the day will be over soon. But look at the bright site your DH loves your haircut and you have less work with it. I hope you are having a better day today. Happy PolarBear

– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – I had an awful day yesterday. I went to my Dr’s for a minor thing.  Stopped by the Dollar store, in search of a cleaning product that my regular store quit carrying, and saw a hair salon.  I desperately needed my haircut, and Stevie (who has always had down to her butt hair) wanted hers cut before school too.  So there we go.  Stevie got about 8 inches cut off, and though it looks adorable I shed a tear or two.  Well the woman couldn’t fix mine, but it was OK.  It’s naturally curly and very few people can fix it.  I get home and wash it (to wash out the style and do my own), and it’s way too short.  I was sobbing while washing my hair. A quick call to my usual hair person, she can see me in the afternoon. My big client calls me.  I cleaned an apartment yesterday and they had some complaints.  Arrrrggghhhh.  These college kids come, rent these crappy apartments, and their parents want them to look like new.  She (the apt.  manager) wanted me to scrub paint off a countertop.  A couple other minor things, I had to vacuum (I skipped that because they were tearing out the carpet but I guess I am supposed to do it anyway).  I have a checklist I use.  They added some things to the checklist.  Where it says "mirrors" they wrote in "Streak-free".  I’m sorry but if they want things perfect then I am not the right person. They do not pay me  enough to get everything shiny sparkling perfect. They do not pay me to scrub countertops.  I really like this apt. manager, and I appreciate the work, but it just ain’t worth it.  I cry some more, talk to a friend, and do the work. I go in and tell the apt manager that I finished up, and that I think she needs to find someone else.  She couldn’t believe me, and said she couldn’t find someone on short notice.  I told her how I felt, (like how writing ’streak free’ on my checklist is a bit unrealistic and the countertop thing) and she bends over backwards to make me feel better. She says next time she will make the maintanance guy scrub the counters.  OK.  Much better! Next.  Go to my bible study.  My friend that I do this Bible study with (Search for Significance) loves my hair.  Hers is naturally curly too, and so she empathized but loved the cut.  OK.  On to my hair person.  She loved it too.  Didn’t want to do anything to it.  No color, no cut, no perm, she thinks it’s perfect. I come home and relay all this to DH and look at the calander…… oh.  It’s hormones.  That’s all.  Half a day of crying for what? *blush*  DH loves the haircuts too. The point is?  I still have bad days.  I didn’t even think about smoking.  Not even once! It gets better, folks! And today is a brand new day!! With hope and heart, Kathleen It has been one wicked precious year, one wicked awesome miraculous month, two wicked exclamation-filled weeks, five wicked joyous days, 6 wicked exhilarating hours, 16 wicked cool minutes and 21 wicked extraordinary seconds since I smoked, much to my total astonishment and dismay! I have mentally mutilated 12427 stinky, wicked nasty, health destroying, joy stealing, death expediators; saving $2,796.26 to be spent frivolously on black leather swimsuits, snowcones and funnel cakes at 6 Flags (the closest amusement park) for Stevie and I, maybe a trip down to Port Aransas or up to Dallas, certainly the new LoTR movie and extended version DVD, and a bunch of other totally unnecessary but fun stuff! Life saved to be spent dancing wickedly and singing at the top of my lungs: 6 weeks, 1 day, 3 hours, 35 minutes. — If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, because you know what you are. ~Mother Theresa

Response:

business and you primarily are doing all the work, no employees right? Been there, done that. I once did it for a year before I gave it up and went back to work in an office. I would rather have a boss breathing down my neck then ever do that again. There is NO pleasing some people, no matter how hard you try and you are certainly not appreciated in the way that you should be. I have some stories…… LOL One I’ll share. I was cleaning house for a woman with a magnificent home. Absolutely beautiful and along with her precious items and wonderful furnishings came a sloppy, slovenly, dirty teenage boy and his friends. This woman was extremely picky and almost always found something "I forgot to do" or "didn’t do right". I made sure each time that I used my own checklist made just for her home and even went so far as to have whoever was home at the time to double check my work and initial the damn paper. (she paid rather well so I went above and beyond otherwise I would have told her to stick the job many moons before that) So I’m always really careful when cleaning kitchens that they look wonderful when I’m finished. Hers was no exception. I get it all done and move on into the livingroom area when her sons come in through the kitchen door with muddy feet and proceed to make snacks at the counter leaving crumbs all over the place. One of them decided to bust up beer pretzels on the kitchen island and pretzel pieces flew all over the floor and just everywhere. So I finish the rest of the house. I get all done and her highness was sitting in the family room doing needlework. I come in and have her look over my checklist. She walks around, spot checking. Then she goes into the kitchen and flips out on ME. She accused me of not even doing the kitchen and when I explained that it was totally done until her heathon son came home with his friends and what THEY did in there, she told me to clean it up or I wouln’t get paid. She then goes back into the family room, pissed off. NOT as pissed off as me though. So, I proceed to take out all the dishes I had washed and I smeared butter on them, put the pretzel pieces into the sink with the dishes and made sure the glasses were good and smeared. Then I sprayed my dusting spray all over her glass top stove and wiped. You can imagine how THAT looked. Then I plugged in the vac, unzipped the bag and turned that puppy on! Dust and dirt flew everywhere!! <imagine how pretty those dishes looked with the dust mixed into the butter like that, I was proud I pack up all my stuff and put it in the car. Went back into the family room and told her "this one’s on me" and said my goodbyes and left. I never looked back. Next day, bought the paper to find a job. LOL Cleaning for other people is hard work. They expect you to do it all and not pay you near enough to do it. They think you’re the "maid" and there’s a huge difference between what I was doing and Alice on the Brady Bunch. I commend you for the work you do. — Deeds

– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – I had an awful day yesterday. I went to my Dr’s for a minor thing.  Stopped by the Dollar store, in search of a cleaning product that my regular store quit carrying, and saw a hair salon.  I desperately needed my haircut, and Stevie (who has always had down to her butt hair) wanted hers cut before school too.  So there we go.  Stevie got about 8 inches cut off, and though it looks adorable I shed a tear or two.  Well the woman couldn’t fix mine, but it was OK.  It’s naturally curly and very few people can fix it.  I get home and wash it (to wash out the style and do my own), and it’s way too short.  I was sobbing while washing my hair. A quick call to my usual hair person, she can see me in the afternoon. My big client calls me.  I cleaned an apartment yesterday and they had some complaints.  Arrrrggghhhh.  These college kids come, rent these crappy apartments, and their parents want them to look like new.  She (the apt.  manager) wanted me to scrub paint off a countertop.  A couple other minor things, I had to vacuum (I skipped that because they were tearing out the carpet but I guess I am supposed to do it anyway).  I have a checklist I use.  They added some things to the checklist.  Where it says "mirrors" they wrote in "Streak-free".  I’m sorry but if they want things perfect then I am not the right person. They do not pay me  enough to get everything shiny sparkling perfect. They do not pay me to scrub countertops.  I really like this apt. manager, and I appreciate the work, but it just ain’t worth it.  I cry some more, talk to a friend, and do the work. I go in and tell the apt manager that I finished up, and that I think she needs to find someone else.  She couldn’t believe me, and said she couldn’t find someone on short notice.  I told her how I felt, (like how writing ’streak free’ on my checklist is a bit unrealistic and the countertop thing) and she bends over backwards to make me feel better. She says next time she will make the maintanance guy scrub the counters.  OK.  Much better! Next.  Go to my bible study.  My friend that I do this Bible study with (Search for Significance) loves my hair.  Hers is naturally curly too, and so she empathized but loved the cut.  OK.  On to my hair person.  She loved it too.  Didn’t want to do anything to it.  No color, no cut, no perm, she thinks it’s perfect. I come home and relay all this to DH and look at the calander…… oh.  It’s hormones.  That’s all.  Half a day of crying for what? *blush*  DH loves the haircuts too. The point is?  I still have bad days.  I didn’t even think about smoking.  Not even once! It gets better, folks! And today is a brand new day!! With hope and heart, Kathleen It has been one wicked precious year, one wicked awesome miraculous month, two wicked exclamation-filled weeks, five wicked joyous days, 6 wicked exhilarating hours, 16 wicked cool minutes and 21 wicked extraordinary seconds since I smoked, much to my total astonishment and dismay! I have mentally mutilated 12427 stinky, wicked nasty, health destroying, joy stealing, death expediators; saving $2,796.26 to be spent frivolously on black leather swimsuits, snowcones and funnel cakes at 6 Flags (the closest amusement park) for Stevie and I, maybe a trip down to Port Aransas or up to Dallas, certainly the new LoTR movie and extended version DVD, and a bunch of other totally unnecessary but fun stuff! Life saved to be spent dancing wickedly and singing at the top of my lungs: 6 weeks, 1 day, 3 hours, 35 minutes. — If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, because you know what you are. ~Mother Theresa

Response:

Did I read that wrong or has Stevie had 8 inches cut off her butt hair?

– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – I had an awful day yesterday. I went to my Dr’s for a minor thing.  Stopped by the Dollar store, in search of a cleaning product that my regular store quit carrying, and saw a hair salon.  I desperately needed my haircut, and Stevie (who has always had down to her butt hair) wanted hers cut before school too.  So there we go.  Stevie got about 8 inches cut off, and though it looks adorable I shed a tear or two.  Well the woman couldn’t fix mine, but it was OK.  It’s naturally curly and very few people can fix it.  I get home and wash it (to wash out the style and do my own), and it’s way too short.  I was sobbing while washing my hair. A quick call to my usual hair person, she can see me in the afternoon. My big client calls me.  I cleaned an apartment yesterday and they had some complaints.  Arrrrggghhhh.  These college kids come, rent these crappy apartments, and their parents want them to look like new.  She (the apt.  manager) wanted me to scrub paint off a countertop.  A couple other minor things, I had to vacuum (I skipped that because they were tearing out the carpet but I guess I am supposed to do it anyway).  I have a checklist I use.  They added some things to the checklist.  Where it says "mirrors" they wrote in "Streak-free".  I’m sorry but if they want things perfect then I am not the right person. They do not pay me  enough to get everything shiny sparkling perfect. They do not pay me to scrub countertops.  I really like this apt. manager, and I appreciate the work, but it just ain’t worth it.  I cry some more, talk to a friend, and do the work. I go in and tell the apt manager that I finished up, and that I think she needs to find someone else.  She couldn’t believe me, and said she couldn’t find someone on short notice.  I told her how I felt, (like how writing ’streak free’ on my checklist is a bit unrealistic and the countertop thing) and she bends over backwards to make me feel better. She says next time she will make the maintanance guy scrub the counters.  OK.  Much better! Next.  Go to my bible study.  My friend that I do this Bible study with (Search for Significance) loves my hair.  Hers is naturally curly too, and so she empathized but loved the cut.  OK.  On to my hair person.  She loved it too.  Didn’t want to do anything to it.  No color, no cut, no perm, she thinks it’s perfect. I come home and relay all this to DH and look at the calander…… oh.  It’s hormones.  That’s all.  Half a day of crying for what? *blush*  DH loves the haircuts too. The point is?  I still have bad days.  I didn’t even think about smoking.  Not even once! It gets better, folks! And today is a brand new day!! With hope and heart, Kathleen It has been one wicked precious year, one wicked awesome miraculous month, two wicked exclamation-filled weeks, five wicked joyous days, 6 wicked exhilarating hours, 16 wicked cool minutes and 21 wicked extraordinary seconds since I smoked, much to my total astonishment and dismay! I have mentally mutilated 12427 stinky, wicked nasty, health destroying, joy stealing, death expediators; saving $2,796.26 to be spent frivolously on black leather swimsuits, snowcones and funnel cakes at 6 Flags (the closest amusement park) for Stevie and I, maybe a trip down to Port Aransas or up to Dallas, certainly the new LoTR movie and extended version DVD, and a bunch of other totally unnecessary but fun stuff! Life saved to be spent dancing wickedly and singing at the top of my lungs: 6 weeks, 1 day, 3 hours, 35 minutes. — If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, because you know what you are. ~Mother Theresa

Response:

<snip hilarious cleaning experience : Cleaning for other people is hard work. They expect you to do it all and not : pay you near enough to do it. They think you’re the "maid" and there’s a : huge difference between what I was doing and Alice on the Brady Bunch. I : commend you for the work you do. : — : Deeds You are so right!  I have been very careful to only keep clients who appreciate me and pay me what I am worth.  But yes, I have had to let a few go because they just wanted more, and I have learned the hard way that in business there are no "favors". But on the other hand, I only work 2-3 days a week, I get to do all the volunteer stuff with my daughters at school and have lots of fun with them in the summer, don’t have to stress if they need to go to the Dr (8yo has asthma), and have plenty of time for me…  AND get to contribute financially to my family. Occasionally I think about getting a ‘real’ timeclock-punching job, but so far things have worked out.  I do think that, like yesterday, I had to surrender the job (to the God of my understanding) and just say "Hey, if I should be doing something else then I am ready." With hope and heart, Kathleen

Response:

LOL 8 inches cut off of her hair, which was nearly down to her butt.  I know it was a weird way of saying it, but does anyone know the proper spelling of Hyne?  Heine?  heinie? tush. — If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, because you know what you are. ~Mother Theresa : Did I read that wrong or has Stevie had 8 inches cut off her butt hair? : :

: I had an awful day yesterday. : : I went to my Dr’s for a minor thing.  Stopped by the Dollar store, in : search of a cleaning product that my regular store quit carrying, and : saw a hair salon.  I desperately needed my haircut, and Stevie (who : has always had down to her butt hair) wanted hers cut before school : too.  So there we go.  Stevie got about 8 inches cut off, and though : it looks adorable I shed a tear or two.  Well the woman couldn’t fix : mine, but it was OK.  It’s naturally curly and very few people can fix : it.  I get home and wash it (to wash out the style and do my own), and : it’s way too short.  I was sobbing while washing my hair. : : A quick call to my usual hair person, she can see me in the afternoon. : : My big client calls me.  I cleaned an apartment yesterday and they had : some complaints.  Arrrrggghhhh.  These college kids come, rent these : crappy apartments, and their parents want them to look like new. She : (the apt.  manager) wanted me to scrub paint off a countertop.  A : couple other minor things, I had to vacuum (I skipped that because : they were tearing out the carpet but I guess I am supposed to do it : anyway).  I have a checklist I use.  They added some things to the : checklist.  Where it says "mirrors" they wrote in "Streak-free". I’m : sorry but if they want things perfect then I am not the right person. : They do not pay me  enough to get everything shiny sparkling perfect. : They do not pay me to scrub countertops.  I really like this apt. : manager, and I appreciate the work, but it just ain’t worth it.  I cry : some more, talk to a friend, and do the work. : : I go in and tell the apt manager that I finished up, and that I think : she needs to find someone else.  She couldn’t believe me, and said she : couldn’t find someone on short notice.  I told her how I felt, (like : how writing ’streak free’ on my checklist is a bit unrealistic and the : countertop thing) and she bends over backwards to make me feel better. : She says next time she will make the maintanance guy scrub the : counters.  OK.  Much better! : : Next.  Go to my bible study.  My friend that I do this Bible study : with (Search for Significance) loves my hair.  Hers is naturally curly : too, and so she empathized but loved the cut.  OK.  On to my hair : person.  She loved it too.  Didn’t want to do anything to it.  No : color, no cut, no perm, she thinks it’s perfect. : : I come home and relay all this to DH and look at the calander…… : oh.  It’s hormones.  That’s all.  Half a day of crying for what? : *blush*  DH loves the haircuts too. : : The point is?  I still have bad days.  I didn’t even think about : smoking.  Not even once! : It gets better, folks! : : And today is a brand new day!! : With hope and heart, : Kathleen : It has been one wicked precious year, one wicked awesome miraculous : month, two wicked exclamation-filled weeks, five wicked joyous days, 6 : wicked exhilarating hours, 16 wicked cool minutes and 21 wicked : extraordinary seconds since I smoked, much to my total astonishment : and dismay! I have mentally mutilated 12427 stinky, wicked nasty, : health destroying, joy stealing, death expediators; saving $2,796.26 : to be spent frivolously on black leather swimsuits, snowcones and : funnel cakes at 6 Flags (the closest amusement park) for Stevie and I, : maybe a trip down to Port Aransas or up to Dallas, certainly the new : LoTR movie and extended version DVD, and a bunch of other totally : unnecessary but fun stuff! Life saved to be spent dancing wickedly and : singing at the top of my lungs: 6 weeks, 1 day, 3 hours, 35 minutes. : : : — : If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, : because you know what you are. : ~Mother Theresa : : : :

Response:

The day might suck be we don’t!  ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha Maybe I will like my hair in a couple days. If not, I will have to get my wig out. (I’d send a pic in, but they all turn out too dark. With hope and heart, Kathleen — If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, because you know what you are. ~Mother Theresa : OMG Kathleen, what a day. but some days reallly suck and you just hope the : day will be over soon. But look at the bright site your DH loves your : haircut and you have less work with it. I hope you are having a better day : today. : Happy PolarBear :

: I had an awful day yesterday. : : I went to my Dr’s for a minor thing.  Stopped by the Dollar store, in : search of a cleaning product that my regular store quit carrying, and : saw a hair salon.  I desperately needed my haircut, and Stevie (who : has always had down to her butt hair) wanted hers cut before school : too.  So there we go.  Stevie got about 8 inches cut off, and though : it looks adorable I shed a tear or two.  Well the woman couldn’t fix : mine, but it was OK.  It’s naturally curly and very few people can fix : it.  I get home and wash it (to wash out the style and do my own), and : it’s way too short.  I was sobbing while washing my hair. : : A quick call to my usual hair person, she can see me in the afternoon. : : My big client calls me.  I cleaned an apartment yesterday and they had : some complaints.  Arrrrggghhhh.  These college kids come, rent these : crappy apartments, and their parents want them to look like new. She : (the apt.  manager) wanted me to scrub paint off a countertop.  A : couple other minor things, I had to vacuum (I skipped that because : they were tearing out the carpet but I guess I am supposed to do it : anyway).  I have a checklist I use.  They added some things to the : checklist.  Where it says "mirrors" they wrote in "Streak-free". I’m : sorry but if they want things perfect then I am not the right person. : They do not pay me  enough to get everything shiny sparkling perfect. : They do not pay me to scrub countertops.  I really like this apt. : manager, and I appreciate the work, but it just ain’t worth it.  I cry : some more, talk to a friend, and do the work. : : I go in and tell the apt manager that I finished up, and that I think : she needs to find someone else.  She couldn’t believe me, and said she : couldn’t find someone on short notice.  I told her how I felt, (like : how writing ’streak free’ on my checklist is a bit unrealistic and the : countertop thing) and she bends over backwards to make me feel better. : She says next time she will make the maintanance guy scrub the : counters.  OK.  Much better! : : Next.  Go to my bible study.  My friend that I do this Bible study : with (Search for Significance) loves my hair.  Hers is naturally curly : too, and so she empathized but loved the cut.  OK.  On to my hair : person.  She loved it too.  Didn’t want to do anything to it.  No : color, no cut, no perm, she thinks it’s perfect. : : I come home and relay all this to DH and look at the calander…… : oh.  It’s hormones.  That’s all.  Half a day of crying for what? : *blush*  DH loves the haircuts too. : : The point is?  I still have bad days.  I didn’t even think about : smoking.  Not even once! : It gets better, folks! : : And today is a brand new day!! : With hope and heart, : Kathleen : It has been one wicked precious year, one wicked awesome miraculous : month, two wicked exclamation-filled weeks, five wicked joyous days, 6 : wicked exhilarating hours, 16 wicked cool minutes and 21 wicked : extraordinary seconds since I smoked, much to my total astonishment : and dismay! I have mentally mutilated 12427 stinky, wicked nasty, : health destroying, joy stealing, death expediators; saving $2,796.26 : to be spent frivolously on black leather swimsuits, snowcones and : funnel cakes at 6 Flags (the closest amusement park) for Stevie and I, : maybe a trip down to Port Aransas or up to Dallas, certainly the new : LoTR movie and extended version DVD, and a bunch of other totally : unnecessary but fun stuff! Life saved to be spent dancing wickedly and : singing at the top of my lungs: 6 weeks, 1 day, 3 hours, 35 minutes. : : : — : If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, : because you know what you are. : ~Mother Theresa : : : :

Response:

ROFLMAO… That is soooo funny It really should be compulsary for every f*$king person to do at least 1 weeks manual labor for another person, and be abused for it – just so that they know what mistreating someone who works for you must feel like when you get up them! Either that, or everyone should read ‘how to win friends & influence people’ – key rule is to never ever mistreat people, or speak ill of them no matter what the circumstances (though I’m sure Mr Carnegie didn’t have AS3 troll’s in his day) That being said, I’ve never cleaned houses for others (cause my domestic skills suck!), but my Mum has done it for several years, just as a part time job more than anything.   And over all those years, she has only had a few people that were hard to please, but in the process has met 3 life long friends that she started out working for.  Good to see that all people that have money or that use hired help aren’t all pretentious snobs. Frampy

– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – business and you primarily are doing all the work, no employees right? Been there, done that. I once did it for a year before I gave it up and went back to work in an office. I would rather have a boss breathing down my neck then ever do that again. There is NO pleasing some people, no matter how hard you try and you are certainly not appreciated in the way that you should be. I have some stories…… LOL One I’ll share. I was cleaning house for a woman with a magnificent home. Absolutely beautiful and along with her precious items and wonderful furnishings came a sloppy, slovenly, dirty teenage boy and his friends. This woman was extremely picky and almost always found something "I forgot to do" or "didn’t do right". I made sure each time that I used my own checklist made just for her home and even went so far as to have whoever was home at the time to double check my work and initial the damn paper. (she paid rather well so I went above and beyond otherwise I would have told her to stick the job many moons before that) So I’m always really careful when cleaning kitchens that they look wonderful when I’m finished. Hers was no exception. I get it all done and move on into the livingroom area when her sons come in through the kitchen door with muddy feet and proceed to make snacks at the counter leaving crumbs all over the place. One of them decided to bust up beer pretzels on the kitchen island and pretzel pieces flew all over the floor and just everywhere. So I finish the rest of the house. I get all done and her highness was sitting in the family room doing needlework. I come in and have her look over my checklist. She walks around, spot checking. Then she goes into the kitchen and flips out on ME. She accused me of not even doing the kitchen and when I explained that it was totally done until her heathon son came home with his friends and what THEY did in there, she told me to clean it up or I wouln’t get paid. She then goes back into the family room, pissed off. NOT as pissed off as me though. So, I proceed to take out all the dishes I had washed and I smeared butter on them, put the pretzel pieces into the sink with the dishes and made sure the glasses were good and smeared. Then I sprayed my dusting spray all over her glass top stove and wiped. You can imagine how THAT looked. Then I plugged in the vac, unzipped the bag and turned that puppy on! Dust and dirt flew everywhere!! <imagine how pretty those dishes looked with the dust mixed into the butter like that, I was proud I pack up all my stuff and put it in the car. Went back into the family room and told her "this one’s on me" and said my goodbyes and left. I never looked back. Next day, bought the paper to find a job. LOL Cleaning for other people is hard work. They expect you to do it all and not pay you near enough to do it. They think you’re the "maid" and there’s a huge difference between what I was doing and Alice on the Brady Bunch. I commend you for the work you do. — Deeds I had an awful day yesterday. I went to my Dr’s for a minor thing.  Stopped by the Dollar store, in search of a cleaning product that my regular store quit carrying, and saw a hair salon.  I desperately needed my haircut, and Stevie (who has always had down to her butt hair) wanted hers cut before school too.  So there we go.  Stevie got about 8 inches cut off, and though it looks adorable I shed a tear or two.  Well the woman couldn’t fix mine, but it was OK.  It’s naturally curly and very few people can fix it.  I get home and wash it (to wash out the style and do my own), and it’s way too short.  I was sobbing while washing my hair. A quick call to my usual hair person, she can see me in the afternoon. My big client calls me.  I cleaned an apartment yesterday and they had some complaints.  Arrrrggghhhh.  These college kids come, rent these crappy apartments, and their parents want them to look like new.  She (the apt.  manager) wanted me to scrub paint off a countertop.  A couple other minor things, I had to vacuum (I skipped that because they were tearing out the carpet but I guess I am supposed to do it anyway).  I have a checklist I use.  They added some things to the checklist.  Where it says "mirrors" they wrote in "Streak-free".  I’m sorry but if they want things perfect then I am not the right person. They do not pay me  enough to get everything shiny sparkling perfect. They do not pay me to scrub countertops.  I really like this apt. manager, and I appreciate the work, but it just ain’t worth it.  I cry some more, talk to a friend, and do the work. I go in and tell the apt manager that I finished up, and that I think she needs to find someone else.  She couldn’t believe me, and said she couldn’t find someone on short notice.  I told her how I felt, (like how writing ’streak free’ on my checklist is a bit unrealistic and the countertop thing) and she bends over backwards to make me feel better. She says next time she will make the maintanance guy scrub the counters.  OK.  Much better! Next.  Go to my bible study.  My friend that I do this Bible study with (Search for Significance) loves my hair.  Hers is naturally curly too, and so she empathized but loved the cut.  OK.  On to my hair person.  She loved it too.  Didn’t want to do anything to it.  No color, no cut, no perm, she thinks it’s perfect. I come home and relay all this to DH and look at the calander…… oh.  It’s hormones.  That’s all.  Half a day of crying for what? *blush*  DH loves the haircuts too. The point is?  I still have bad days.  I didn’t even think about smoking.  Not even once! It gets better, folks! And today is a brand new day!! With hope and heart, Kathleen It has been one wicked precious year, one wicked awesome miraculous month, two wicked exclamation-filled weeks, five wicked joyous days, 6 wicked exhilarating hours, 16 wicked cool minutes and 21 wicked extraordinary seconds since I smoked, much to my total astonishment and dismay! I have mentally mutilated 12427 stinky, wicked nasty, health destroying, joy stealing, death expediators; saving $2,796.26 to be spent frivolously on black leather swimsuits, snowcones and funnel cakes at 6 Flags (the closest amusement park) for Stevie and I, maybe a trip down to Port Aransas or up to Dallas, certainly the new LoTR movie and extended version DVD, and a bunch of other totally unnecessary but fun stuff! Life saved to be spent dancing wickedly and singing at the top of my lungs: 6 weeks, 1 day, 3 hours, 35 minutes. — If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, because you know what you are. ~Mother Theresa

Response:

Hey Kathleen, I feel your pain. he he Really I do. Amy

– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – I had an awful day yesterday. I went to my Dr’s for a minor thing.  Stopped by the Dollar store, in search of a cleaning product that my regular store quit carrying, and saw a hair salon.  I desperately needed my haircut, and Stevie (who has always had down to her butt hair) wanted hers cut before school too.  So there we go.  Stevie got about 8 inches cut off, and though it looks adorable I shed a tear or two.  Well the woman couldn’t fix mine, but it was OK.  It’s naturally curly and very few people can fix it.  I get home and wash it (to wash out the style and do my own), and it’s way too short.  I was sobbing while washing my hair. A quick call to my usual hair person, she can see me in the afternoon. My big client calls me.  I cleaned an apartment yesterday and they had some complaints.  Arrrrggghhhh.  These college kids come, rent these crappy apartments, and their parents want them to look like new.  She (the apt.  manager) wanted me to scrub paint off a countertop.  A couple other minor things, I had to vacuum (I skipped that because they were tearing out the carpet but I guess I am supposed to do it anyway).  I have a checklist I use.  They added some things to the checklist.  Where it says "mirrors" they wrote in "Streak-free".  I’m sorry but if they want things perfect then I am not the right person. They do not pay me  enough to get everything shiny sparkling perfect. They do not pay me to scrub countertops.  I really like this apt. manager, and I appreciate the work, but it just ain’t worth it.  I cry some more, talk to a friend, and do the work. I go in and tell the apt manager that I finished up, and that I think she needs to find someone else.  She couldn’t believe me, and said she couldn’t find someone on short notice.  I told her how I felt, (like how writing ’streak free’ on my checklist is a bit unrealistic and the countertop thing) and she bends over backwards to make me feel better. She says next time she will make the maintanance guy scrub the counters.  OK.  Much better! Next.  Go to my bible study.  My friend that I do this Bible study with (Search for Significance) loves my hair.  Hers is naturally curly too, and so she empathized but loved the cut.  OK.  On to my hair person.  She loved it too.  Didn’t want to do anything to it.  No color, no cut, no perm, she thinks it’s perfect. I come home and relay all this to DH and look at the calander…… oh.  It’s hormones.  That’s all.  Half a day of crying for what? *blush*  DH loves the haircuts too. The point is?  I still have bad days.  I didn’t even think about smoking.  Not even once! It gets better, folks! And today is a brand new day!! With hope and heart, Kathleen It has been one wicked precious year, one wicked awesome miraculous month, two wicked exclamation-filled weeks, five wicked joyous days, 6 wicked exhilarating hours, 16 wicked cool minutes and 21 wicked extraordinary seconds since I smoked, much to my total astonishment and dismay! I have mentally mutilated 12427 stinky, wicked nasty, health destroying, joy stealing, death expediators; saving $2,796.26 to be spent frivolously on black leather swimsuits, snowcones and funnel cakes at 6 Flags (the closest amusement park) for Stevie and I, maybe a trip down to Port Aransas or up to Dallas, certainly the new LoTR movie and extended version DVD, and a bunch of other totally unnecessary but fun stuff! Life saved to be spent dancing wickedly and singing at the top of my lungs: 6 weeks, 1 day, 3 hours, 35 minutes. — If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, because you know what you are. ~Mother Theresa

Response:

Did I read that wrong or has Stevie had 8 inches cut off her butt hair?

Sorry, I don’t usually do this, but… ROFLMAO hugs, elle – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – I had an awful day yesterday.

Response:

Kathleen, Thanks for sharing!  I really love having you back here. Your hair will grow out again.  Hope you feel better today hugs, elle

– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – I had an awful day yesterday.

Response:

Awwwwwwww Kathleen….i’m sorry u had a bad day..:( big (((((((((((((((((( Kathleen))))))))))))….i can share the hair thing hun….I’m a hairdresser od 34 yrs and natural curly hair is so hard to do for a lot of hairdresser…..they dont realize how much it draws up after it drys….luckley i had enough experience in this when my son got married…..his wife has hair down to here butt and hangs in long ringlettes so i keep here hair cut and bangs have to be left long to be right expecialy with her cow licks….ok done with my hair explaining about curly hair hell i am in the brain fog stage now….anyway i’m so happy that day is over and i know smokeing is not an option for u anymore and that wonderful…..have a better peaceful day……hugs Patsy

Response:

<sticks tongue out You just want to see my wig, don’t you! With hope and heart, Kathleen — If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, because you know what you are. ~Mother Theresa : Hey Kathleen, : I feel your pain. he he Really I do. : : Amy

: I had an awful day yesterday. : : I went to my Dr’s for a minor thing.  Stopped by the Dollar store, in : search of a cleaning product that my regular store quit carrying, and : saw a hair salon.  I desperately needed my haircut, and Stevie (who : has always had down to her butt hair) wanted hers cut before school : too.  So there we go.  Stevie got about 8 inches cut off, and though : it looks adorable I shed a tear or two.  Well the woman couldn’t fix : mine, but it was OK.  It’s naturally curly and very few people can fix : it.  I get home and wash it (to wash out the style and do my own), and : it’s way too short.  I was sobbing while washing my hair. : : A quick call to my usual hair person, she can see me in the afternoon. : : My big client calls me.  I cleaned an apartment yesterday and they had : some complaints.  Arrrrggghhhh.  These college kids come, rent these : crappy apartments, and their parents want them to look like new. She : (the apt.  manager) wanted me to scrub paint off a countertop.  A : couple other minor things, I had to vacuum (I skipped that because : they were tearing out the carpet but I guess I am supposed to do it : anyway).  I have a checklist I use.  They added some things to the : checklist.  Where it says "mirrors" they wrote in "Streak-free". I’m : sorry but if they want things perfect then I am not the right person. : They do not pay me  enough to get everything shiny sparkling perfect. : They do not pay me to scrub countertops.  I really like this apt. : manager, and I appreciate the work, but it just ain’t worth it.  I cry : some more, talk to a friend, and do the work. : : I go in and tell the apt manager that I finished up, and that I think : she needs to find someone else.  She couldn’t believe me, and said she : couldn’t find someone on short notice.  I told her how I felt, (like : how writing ’streak free’ on my checklist is a bit unrealistic and the : countertop thing) and she bends over backwards to make me feel better. : She says next time she will make the maintanance guy scrub the : counters.  OK.  Much better! : : Next.  Go to my bible study.  My friend that I do this Bible study : with (Search for Significance) loves my hair.  Hers is naturally curly : too, and so she empathized but loved the cut.  OK.  On to my hair : person.  She loved it too.  Didn’t want to do anything to it.  No : color, no cut, no perm, she thinks it’s perfect. : : I come home and relay all this to DH and look at the calander…… : oh.  It’s hormones.  That’s all.  Half a day of crying for what? : *blush*  DH loves the haircuts too. : : The point is?  I still have bad days.  I didn’t even think about : smoking.  Not even once! : It gets better, folks! : : And today is a brand new day!! : With hope and heart, : Kathleen : It has been one wicked precious year, one wicked awesome miraculous : month, two wicked exclamation-filled weeks, five wicked joyous days, 6 : wicked exhilarating hours, 16 wicked cool minutes and 21 wicked : extraordinary seconds since I smoked, much to my total astonishment : and dismay! I have mentally mutilated 12427 stinky, wicked nasty, : health destroying, joy stealing, death expediators; saving $2,796.26 : to be spent frivolously on black leather swimsuits, snowcones and : funnel cakes at 6 Flags (the closest amusement park) for Stevie and I, : maybe a trip down to Port Aransas or up to Dallas, certainly the new : LoTR movie and extended version DVD, and a bunch of other totally : unnecessary but fun stuff! Life saved to be spent dancing wickedly and : singing at the top of my lungs: 6 weeks, 1 day, 3 hours, 35 minutes. : : : — : If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, : because you know what you are. : ~Mother Theresa : : : : :

Response:

Elle, I just love you so!  We will have to meet someday. I feel better, and *everyone* LOVES my hair. I still hate it. With hope and heart, Short-haired Kathleen — If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, because you know what you are. ~Mother Theresa : Kathleen, : : Thanks for sharing!  I really love having you back here. : : Your hair will grow out again.  Hope you feel better today : : hugs, : : elle :

: I had an awful day yesterday. : : :

Response:

Yep, Patsy, you are right on!  I’m going to live…  me thinks! (hugs backatcha) With hope and heart, Kathleen — If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, because you know what you are. ~Mother Theresa : Awwwwwwww Kathleen….i’m sorry u had a bad day..:( big (((((((((((((((((( : Kathleen))))))))))))….i can share the hair thing hun….I’m a hairdresser : od 34 yrs and natural curly hair is so hard to do for a lot of : hairdresser…..they dont realize how much it draws up after it : drys….luckley i had enough experience in this when my son got : married…..his wife has hair down to here butt and hangs in long ringlettes : so i keep here hair cut and bangs have to be left long to be right expecialy : with her cow licks….ok done with my hair explaining about curly hair hell : i am in the brain fog stage now….anyway i’m so happy that day is over and : i know smokeing is not an option for u anymore and that wonderful…..have a : better peaceful day……hugs Patsy

Response:

How do you make a hormone? Wear boots to bed Or don’t pay her! Suckful day Kathleen! All round suckful. But oh so encouraging that despite all those tears and tribulations, you never even thought about smoking. And that is hope indeed! Paula

– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – I had an awful day yesterday. I went to my Dr’s for a minor thing.  Stopped by the Dollar store, in search of a cleaning product that my regular store quit carrying, and saw a hair salon.  I desperately needed my haircut, and Stevie (who has always had down to her butt hair) wanted hers cut before school too.  So there we go.  Stevie got about 8 inches cut off, and though it looks adorable I shed a tear or two.  Well the woman couldn’t fix mine, but it was OK.  It’s naturally curly and very few people can fix it.  I get home and wash it (to wash out the style and do my own), and it’s way too short.  I was sobbing while washing my hair. A quick call to my usual hair person, she can see me in the afternoon. My big client calls me.  I cleaned an apartment yesterday and they had some complaints.  Arrrrggghhhh.  These college kids come, rent these crappy apartments, and their parents want them to look like new.  She (the apt.  manager) wanted me to scrub paint off a countertop.  A couple other minor things, I had to vacuum (I skipped that because they were tearing out the carpet but I guess I am supposed to do it anyway).  I have a checklist I use.  They added some things to the checklist.  Where it says "mirrors" they wrote in "Streak-free".  I’m sorry but if they want things perfect then I am not the right person. They do not pay me  enough to get everything shiny sparkling perfect. They do not pay me to scrub countertops.  I really like this apt. manager, and I appreciate the work, but it just ain’t worth it.  I cry some more, talk to a friend, and do the work. I go in and tell the apt manager that I finished up, and that I think she needs to find someone else.  She couldn’t believe me, and said she couldn’t find someone on short notice.  I told her how I felt, (like how writing ’streak free’ on my checklist is a bit unrealistic and the countertop thing) and she bends over backwards to make me feel better. She says next time she will make the maintanance guy scrub the counters.  OK.  Much better! Next.  Go to my bible study.  My friend that I do this Bible study with (Search for Significance) loves my hair.  Hers is naturally curly too, and so she empathized but loved the cut.  OK.  On to my hair person.  She loved it too.  Didn’t want to do anything to it.  No color, no cut, no perm, she thinks it’s perfect. I come home and relay all this to DH and look at the calander…… oh.  It’s hormones.  That’s all.  Half a day of crying for what? *blush*  DH loves the haircuts too. The point is?  I still have bad days.  I didn’t even think about smoking.  Not even once! It gets better, folks! And today is a brand new day!! With hope and heart, Kathleen It has been one wicked precious year, one wicked awesome miraculous month, two wicked exclamation-filled weeks, five wicked joyous days, 6 wicked exhilarating hours, 16 wicked cool minutes and 21 wicked extraordinary seconds since I smoked, much to my total astonishment and dismay! I have mentally mutilated 12427 stinky, wicked nasty, health destroying, joy stealing, death expediators; saving $2,796.26 to be spent frivolously on black leather swimsuits, snowcones and funnel cakes at 6 Flags (the closest amusement park) for Stevie and I, maybe a trip down to Port Aransas or up to Dallas, certainly the new LoTR movie and extended version DVD, and a bunch of other totally unnecessary but fun stuff! Life saved to be spent dancing wickedly and singing at the top of my lungs: 6 weeks, 1 day, 3 hours, 35 minutes. — If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, because you know what you are. ~Mother Theresa

Response:

<sticks tongue out You just want to see my wig, don’t you! With hope and heart, Kathleen

Nah, I meant about having all that drama & then looking at the calender & realizing maybe hormones had a little to do with it! I’m sure the haircut looks good, or your regular stylist would have insisted on fixing it. hugs, Amy

Response:

Related Articles

• Chlorpheniramine. Question for Young Medicine Master Margrove
• 20mg of inderal/propranolol instead of 10mg?
• Can changes in weather affect sinuses?
• Stopping repetitive swallowing
• OT: *Bonus* Question of the day…. 3/29/06