On The Road Again...

And here we go. With busy work..comes work road trips. Not that I'm ungrateful for the work. We have been slow for so long, I'm more than ready for it. For times to get back to normal. But with any building going up anywhere, there are going to be problems. Some minor, some not. Some merely hiccups. But either way, all of those instances call for a road trip. To prove our point, to soothe General Contractors, job site Erectors, and to make basic good use of our customer service promises. As the Quality Assurance Manager, that's where my husband comes in....W.D. Mims at your service.

Now maybe you're wondering what on earth any of that has to do with me. I'm only the Purchasing Manager. I just buy the steel.  I'm not responsible for fabricating it. I am in no way responsible for the correct measurements, length or camber in the joist. Nor am I responsible for any back rubbing or customer schmoozing.  But as the wife, not the employee, I am the one left responsible for everything on the home front. But mostly, when it's all said and done, all I'm going to be held responsible for, is the higher light bill that is certainly to come with these road trips. 

Yes, I will be burning extra lights. Inside and out. I don't do well when Mims isn't home. How I ever lived alone with two children for the better of nine years, I will never know. And for those of you thinking to yourselves, isn't Zach still going to be home? Wouldn't he provide some kind of solace and comfort? Bluntly put, NO. That big ole' brute of a boy provides NOTHING. He's barely here, day or night. And come bedtime, he doesn't know anything but sleep and the back of his eyelids. He doesn't know anything, hear anything, or see anything.

When I ask him to leave his door open, so he could hear me, should I need him, I am greeted with grumbling, mumbling, "you need to toughen up" words. These words from the mouth on the body I struggled for nine months to give birth. The child I stayed up nights for, lost sleep for, and have fought for, every step of his life. Tells his sweet, scared like a girl Mama, to toughen up. So, I have to stay awake until HE falls asleep, then I get BACK up and open his door. I'm not really sure why this brings me comfort. He sleeps like the dead, and I feel positive, should someone could come inside our home and take everything inside, including me, he would never hear it. It's a mind thing for me. The door is open. Whether it helps or not.

So besides the no account security guard I have staying with me, I will burn lights. Inside and out. We have three security lights set up strategically in our front, side and back yards. When I moved in with Mims in 05' he had one security light in the side yard. Because of his travels, and my wild imagination, we have added two more. It has slowed down my calls to the local police for "preventive drive-by requests", and increased our monthly light bill.  And should you chuckle to yourself, and think I haven't ever really called the local police...you'd be wrong. I have. And if I hear anything that I cannot identify or see, I will do so again. They get paid to listen and respond to people like me. I'm not ashamed to admit to anyone when I am scared. I refuse to be a hostage of fear in my own home.

And I have enough sense to know, the BB guns we keep by our front door will do no damage. They will only look scary until I have to pick one up to cock it. Anyone who knows guns/rifles, will know immediately they are dealing with an amateur. An amateur that has nothing but a squirrel shooter in her hands. And an amateur that barely knows how to use that! If you have to holler out, "hold on, let me get this baby pumped", it somewhat loses its fear factor.

And my neighbors, well, some of you already know that sad story.  The ones on the right side of us, I dearly love, but they are in the process of moving. They spend more time at their new home than this one. And the ones on the left side of us, I dearly dislike. And by the time I got across the street to my other neighbors house, whatever I was running from, would have me.

So between a son who sleeps like a stone, and no neighbors to speak of for comfort, I am on my own.  I will use my tax dollars to "borrow" the city police should I need to do so, and I will burn these lights at free will. And when the electric bill comes in, I will sprint to the mailbox to get to it first, hide it, and hope Mims doesn't remember to ask for it. And I will pray the next few days go by quickly, that the office has plenty of coffee, and that the inventory I must reconcile for the next three days goes smoothly. Because somehow, I already know, I am very likely to not have all my cylinders firing.  My Daisy Red Ryder BB gun yes, my brains however are questionable.

copyright © 2011 Michelle Mount Mims