Sadness

I don't go looking for it; it just shows up.  The day can be as positive as ever, but the hours come to an end and there it is. 

Is it the lonesomeness or the loneliness?  One of these feels like being endlessly homesick while the other feels like exile.  

Both are hideous (and possibly avoidable), but one is definitely given to you and the other is sought out.  Either way, with either outcome, the sadness materializes and brings you to a low you didn't see coming. Couldn't see coming.  

I should say "I" since I am speaking of my own experiences, but the little bit of distance this difference in verbiage affords me makes it seem just that much less painful.

Wow, that is a complete cop-out on my part, and I know I'm trying to fool myself.  Sad is sad, and sadness is real.  My sadness may subside over time, but how do I make it leave me alone until I am stronger?

I don't know this for certain, but I am of the frame of mind that a pill shouldn't be the way I handle it.

Is it the lonesomeness or the loneliness?  

When I reached out to a years-long friend to get together recently, and was put off several times, I wanted to believe the first one or two rejections were legitimate reasons, but the last two attempts?  Well, let me just say I now know were met with less than genuine responses; but because I wanted to believe the reasons (because the alternate thought I was entertaining was not ideal for fighting the sadness).  I hung up the phone thinking, 'some other time.'

I bought being gently rebuffed, until I found that this person ended up getting together with other people instead, and I then I fell apart inside.  Tried not to take it personally, but that is easier said than done.  This was a friend.

It's heartbreaking.

It's an eye-opener.

It's demoralizing.

It's trust-breaking.

It's a horrible way to reinforce learned behaviors - learned over a lifetime of a poor self worth.  Does anyone have any extra self-worth I can borrow, or have, or pay you for?

This all makes me feel like walking off into the distance; like disappearing and finding a new place to blend into the woodwork.  At least if I make the effort to never be seen right from the start, the lack of interaction won't hurt, as much - right?  

No boo-hooing here, just stating what I feel is the a better way to exist.

What a fool I've been (?)

Well, a friend posted this on her facey spacey timeline today, and it struck a familiar chord in me. 

There have been so many times over the last dozen years or so (truly, I think I've been haunted by this feeling for more like the last 20 years) where I question my level of stupidity and self-worth.

I can't recall < that sort of experience or memory, BUT I can vouch (with the help of hindsight) many times [stress M A N Y times] having been handed an opportunity that I let slip away because - as I told myself (convinced myself) - that it just couldn't be that easy.  Sometimes I can even envision myself not even letting those times 'slip away' so much as (I think) I ran from them.

MANY times something so wonderful and right up my ally, answer to my dreams, perfect for my skillsets, and *the EXACT* right thing I have always wanted to do with my life, materialized like a Stephen King fog and enveloped my path!  Like a gift, the perfect future was laid out before me and I thought to myself:

"This sort of thing just doesn't happen like this.  There must be a catch...or, this is a trick of some sort.  I'll be sorry if I accept the opportunity because it is just too good to be true."

Hindsight has slapped me hard, and I feel the splinters from God's 2x4 between my eyes.  I have been inattentive to His gift many times over because I did not feel the love with the offer, I only felt the shame of not being worthy.

I can only pray for one more chance, one more love tap of His 2x4 - one more chance to say, "Yes! Thank you."  

Do you think it will happen?  Will I recognize it for what it is and take the leap?

Does God love fools (enough)?

I am feeling fairly low right now

Do you know how easy it is to do nothing?

Do you know how hard it is on a person to do nothing?

Impostors

This is not a random thought, just something I wanted to get off my chest.  
However, I may have written it in a random way, and for that I apologize.

People at work who are "team leads" or "managers", but who do not know how to lead or create team mentality, and who only manage to create chaos, create backlash from their favoritism practices, and put discourse in place from their own backstabbing and setting people one against the other...those are the impostors.

Impostors practice incessant lying and covering up of things gone wrong, making masses of issues and stacks of boxes, and tempers flare.  There is one expert impostor in the White House (and he's put many more like himself - they're called 'yes men' - in places of power) slinging his malicious brand of subterfuge and ignorance.  We are all suffering because of this buffoon impostor.

Even our new HR rep accused me of 'trying to pull one over on the new guy' when I brought to his attention a pervasive problem regarding my vacation time.  I thought I'd found a fresh set of ears to listen and help me figure it out and fix the oversight.  Fortunately, he finally ended up looking further than his ego (and initial perception of my request), and righted the wrong.  I just couldn't believe his initial response was to whitewash it by accusing me of trying to cheat the company out of something I had earned and was entitled to, rather than to listen with an open mind.

Our specific building is chockablock full of impostors in positions of leadership, and they have no idea of what they are doing - except when they practice their crap skills, totally intending to create chaos in other directions to keep the eyes of scrutiny engaged in looking in the wrong place, and not focused on problems caused by the impostor's own inadequacies.

Impostors light a fuse then stand back and watch with glee.

Atomic boom.

Just a thought

If some people I work with spent as much time simply allowing me to do my job (and assisted, as they are supposed to), instead of obstructing and scheming, things would run so much more smoothly and efficiently - and there'd be far less 'Peyton Place' drama where it doesn't belong.

Seriously, they really have that much free time to screw over a co-worker, as opposed to doing a better job at accomplishing their own tasks?  What the...?

Up before the alarm

'Natch.'

Odin had been exhibiting signs of illness, so I took him to our 'regular' vet - the family vet we found at the start of the girls' decline in health as old ladies.  The office people were very kind when we had to put down Flop, and then Hobbes - I only wish we had been their client for Cleo's sake.  But all of that was eons ago, or so it feels.  It stills aches as though that was just last month, and since I am a soft touch, recounting all of it will most likely always move me to tears.

Anyway, the last trip I took to the 'family vet' late spring, found me pleading to have the tri-test repeated on Odin - the test which tells of impending doom (heartworm, FiV, FLv).  Upon adopting 'O' we were told that test had been run at the rescue vet office, and that he was free of all three - thank God.  After having 'lost' Jake no less than half a year too soon, I was not interested in shattering my still-healing heart again... at least, not right away.

A little history: 'O' was found in a field, frozen to a towel, starving, bald in areas, obviously suffering from fleas, and (as we've been told) stinkier than 5-day old roadkill on a 99*F day.  What was scarier was this semi-feral little boy had the imposing 'forearms' of Popeye, 9" nails, and a limited vocabulary consisting of "now," "more," and "%!#&!"   The latter we call his cuss word, and he uses it a lot.  He was in rough shape.

To complicate his hard-scrabble life even further is the lack of vision in one eye, missing teeth and, as we found out a couple of weeks into life with Odin, a definite digestive issue.  In short, 'O' was a hot mess, but he was our hot mess, so we set out to improve his life in every way possible.

Fast-forwarding 1-1/2 years finds Odin thriving and turning into quite the tremendously needy love bug.  Neither he nor Booker are lap cats (more's the pity), but they are wonderful lads, and good company nearly any time of the day. 

Anyhow...

...several months back, I took Odin to the vet, wondering about getting some answers and fixes to help him feel better for whatever might have been the matter.  His breathing seemed 'off' and was growing worse day by day.  His poops should have solidified after more than a year on medicated food, too.  And the smell from his mouth...what was that?!?  But it was his breathing that most concerned me, and mostly because Jake's demise was marked by a similar onset of frequent and worsening respiratory episodes.  Could we help 'O'?  Oh, how I prayed that we could - and quickly.

Instead of waiting five weeks for the first non-emergency appointment with our usual vet, I called the local Humane Society and asked if I could get Odin in to be seen any sooner.  Due to my new daughter-in-law working there, 'O' was moved up on the list quickly, and in no time we were in the office and speaking with a doctor.  X-rays were taken, blood was drawn - and most importantly, they listened to my request for having a repeat on the tri-test. 

It wasn't a long wait before the doctor was informing me of the positive results for feline immunodeficiency virus (FiV = kitty aids).  My heart sank.  The x-rays revealed no mass of any sort on Odin's airway or lungs, so the respiratory distress was all due to the FiV. 

He was prescribed a rather strong antibiotic, which made a huge improvement in his breathing in no time, and knocked out the oral/nasal infection in nothing flat.  Also, 'O's' lost another tooth since then, but everything else seems to be at bay - and so we take it day by day.  On the other hand, the antibiotic created a new problem in the form of colitis, and now Odin wakes with a scream and a start, having to poo immediately.  This is bad news for sleeping through the night and for the rug in my bedroom, but it's all doable because it means we have a little more time with our sweet diminutive weirdo.  For a good couple of weeks I'd been awakened way before the alarm - sometimes two-to-three times per night.  Happily, these instances have all but subsided.

Ultimately, my wish is not to trade one set of problems for another.  I don't want to keep the respiratory infections at bay at the cost of Odin feeling crampy and suffering from unpredictable diarrhea - that just wouldn't be fair... or kind.  Therefore, we will watch and listen to and care for Odin with every ounce of love and attention we can muster, until he tells us the time has finally come.  'Natch.'

Recently, Odin was started on a new prescriptive food, and seems alright with it.  While it took some time to get him weaned from the first prescriptive to this new one, I can finally say he is eating most of his meals each day - and that is a blessing.  The abrupt screaming poos are winding down, although I must remain on guard when he begins to cry incessantly, and wander from place to place.  Karl is not as attentive during the day while I am at work, so there have been many days when I've arrived home to find a secret, stinky gift from Odin laying in wait for me in front of my closet. 

Oh, 'O'!  I love you, love you, love you.

Really, 2018?

Not guilty!  I did NOT say - or even think - "what else can happen?" Did NOT say or think, "it can't get any worse/how bad can it get?"

I let 2017 wimper on out and ignored the midnight tolling of the bells.  And this is the thanks I get.

We are going visiting today, and I asked Karl to jump into the shower while I punched down the bread dough and parsed it into the baking pans for its second rise.  I had a load of laundry going and was feeling pretty content.

I heard the sound of water, but it didn't register that the sound was a bit out of the ordinary for the washer (downstairs).  Nope, I chalked it up to Karl in the tub. (yea - no arguments or demanding or repeating myself for a change).

Then Karl breezed by and headed to the lower level to check on the wash - thinking he would take it out of the washer and get it into the dryer, in hopes of wearing one of the dress shirts in the load.  This day was getting better and better.

Then Karl yelled up to me, "Is the floor supposed to be wet?"

Nope, oddly enough, it isn't supposed to be wet.

How fast do you think I flew downstairs?

It looks as though the pipe that the washer drains into froze... that is to say, whatever standing water was in it from the last wash before this extreme cold snap.  The sound I heard and did not identify was that of the water splashing about at high pressure and fanning out on the wood floor and soaking into the insulation underneath.  At least, I am HOPING the drain pipe is the issue.

Damn it!

Well, at least the bread smells good in the oven.

The word "get" has got to go

What is with the ignorance of people using the English language?

I have a lot of pet peeves.  This I know and, well....whatever.

However, I feel compelled to tell the universe how I feel regarding the lack of ability (within the general population) to correctly use the English language in an intelligent and thoughtful way. Let's face it, embrace it, and erase it - the funk of the grammatically lazy, that is. When did mediocrity become the norm?

Has anyone else even noticed that the practice of intelligent speaking has truly taken a nose dive over the last 10-20 years.  'I mean', just listen to us!

• Lazy speech patterns
• The overuse of words in sentences taking the place of "um" and "uh" and the rest - specifically the words "like" and "so", and the phrase "I mean"....when the speaker hasn't even said anything of note requiring clarification
• Saying "hashtag" to bring an air of importance to some trivial subject matter
• Inventing other uses for a word(s), when it isn't necessary, to get the meaning across; i.e. - a "life hack" is NOT the same as a tip or shortcut or a unique solution share
• The needless (and stupid) use of certain other words to shortcut the need for inserting a little grey matter into the conversation - which is why I am here today

This is a bit of text, taken from something I read online this morning, and if you can't see the issue without prompting, then you need to return to third or forth grade - PRONTO!

This is how routine affects us; absorbs us from the inside until we get consumed by it and get comfortable with repetitive patterns and accept changes along the way.

Seriously?!

Let's try this:
"...absorbs us from the inside until we are consumed by it and become comfortable with repetitive patterns..."

Quite frankly, there are a small number of ways that sentence could have been better constructed, but it wasn't.  Don't even get me started on the poor punctuation. [slow burn]

Sadly, the lazy and improper use of language is becoming more disappointing with every passing year.  The word "get" has found its way into most sentences any more, when so many other perfectly suited words would do a much better job communicating, informing, and delivering content.  What are we so afraid of that we can't even hire people to type up news stories on television for our 'talking heads' to say in front of a camera?  Or, are our newscasters presenting the news in a rogue fashion, and they themselves can't construct a proper sentence?

It's horrifying to know there are horrible English students (with deplorable speaking habits) wending their way through college and gaining accreditation to teach young, pliable minds.  Once youngsters are subjected to these new lazy and improperly speaking teachers, who's left to reverse the damage?  Who will monitor the decline of intelligence and work to reverse it?  There are an equal amount of parents who also speak poorly, so there will be no help for the coming generations of kids to recognize the issues and reverse the trend.

How are we to "life hack" our way out of this trouble?  MacGyver has retired.

Oh, and, PS:
Don't blame your mobile phone (or other electronic device) for messing up a conversation and inadvertently causing issues due to its "spellcheck" feature, if you are the sort of lazy idiot who can't be bothered to even attempt to spell a word correctly - or remember the correct uses for "your", "you're", "their", "they're", and "there" (among others).  But these are matters for another time and place.

Opinions

Does anyone else out there happen to think the new offering from PBS and the BBC is a load of shyte? If you haven't been watching "The Paradise" on Sunday evenings, you aren't missing much. No kidding. What a load of Hallmark-style twaddle. All soft soap and drivel, truly.

They keep billing every new thing as the next best thing to Downton Abbey. Hardly!

The thing I am having the roughest time with is deciding which horrendous piece of wanna-be crap is worse - that Masterpiece thing with Jeremy Piven about the American who went to London at the turn of the last century to develop an all-encompassing department store (horrible from the writing to the abominable acting), OR the unbelievably dull, saccharine, flem-inducing 'Paradise.' Please don't make me give you a plot rundown. It's bad - that's all you need to know, and I'm afraid that thinking about it may cause an aneurysm.

Come on, PBS/BBC, we KNOW you can do better than these offerings. Don't be in such a rush to fill the time slot during the DA hiatus that you resort to lackluster and below standard knock-off productions. Downton is one of a kind. Bring back Doc Martin or Foyle's War (the original)...or even Inspectors Morse or Lewis, before parading another poor imitation period piece in place of glorious Downton Abbey.

For shame!

Yes...my beautiful carpet is home!

Finally ended up bringing my lovely Kazakhstan carpet home. It has been at Hagopian cleaners/repair for more than a year, and in all that time THEY NEVER FULLY REPAIRED THE DAMAGE, despite pointing it out to them on five seperate occasions!! It was stated on their contract as "...repair all moth damage," and they never closed the deal. Each time I drove to their location (hopeful in my expectations) to look over the carpet before bringing it home...there were the moth holes! Each time, I marked the areas with blue painter's tape - provided by an employee - thinking the necessary areas would be finished; but I'm not certain WHAT the repair team thought the blue tape was there for. No one EVER repaired the threadbare areas!

Nothing about today's trip was any different. Bud went with me, as I was determined to not lose my cool, and we inspected the rug (on hands and knees, as always) and found all the same spots lacking repair! We marked them, took photos as we stood in the showroom, then I signed for the rug and registered a complaint - both written on the invoice AND voiced to the gentleman who always handled me with care when I visited my carpet.

Now, I am conducting a campaign to warn people to not take any repairs to the "purple truck people." Whatever it takes - signs in my car window, internet announcements, FB-spread-the-word-tactics, advertisements in local papers and signs posted on lightpoles. ANYthing and EVERYthing. I am even ready to call the troubleshooters for two of the local news outlets, just to give the purple H a black eye. Tomorrow I am contacting the BBB first, then see which way the wind blows me.

One of 'those' kinds of days

For whatever reason, I find myself having "one of 'those' kinds of days," and it is distressing. It cropped up out of nowhere and I can't seem to shake it.

My day seems to have come complete with a headache, too, so you'll excuse me if I take a day to indulge in a project that has been weighing heavily in my "really want to do" column, and just ignore all else. Well, everything except the cat box, that is.

On the matter of "Infinite frustration"

Brian graciously attempted the sequence to register/login to the online homework management site used by the local jr. college (provided by my instructor) with his BRAND NEW LAPTOP tablet-thingy, and the minute we accessed the Pearson website, his machine turned into an unresponsive black screen!!!

Infinite frustration

Yes...I have tried for 2.75 days, now, to register and log into the online homework-teacher-made-a-change-to-the-syllabus site WITHOUT LUCK!!!! All I've managed to accomplish was a heightened degree of frustration and very little homework. Every try with a different computer elicited the same basic outcome - a crash of either the IE or the entire PC.

So...HELLO!!!!!! I hate the idea of having to sit in a computer lab on campus for extra hours just to complete homework I should be able to do AT HOME!!!

College is beginning to suck as badly as technology.

Somebody fix it so I may amend my mental state and opinion of technology. *Thanks*

[grumble grumble]

Been gone, but don't suppose ya noticed

I have been a little preoccupied and a little 'could-give-a-sh*t' over the last week or so. It's been a rough summer emotionally - and an eye-opener in so many ways - that sitting down at the keyboard to write seemed pointless.

No one is going to read [whatever], and the even more distressing and disappointing thought is that most readers would simply skim and absorb next to nothing of what I had to say (as apparently they [YOU] have been), and then never comment. So, I resorted to making very trite entries over the last few months.

My friends do occassionally comment (and I thank you most sincerely, you lovely people - all two of you), but by and large, I am disheartened by the readership numbers versus the commentors. I can safely say 98.9% of the comments are nothing but SPAM, and it makes the disappointment that much more palpable day after day.

I don't require the attention to survive, but if I am being honest with myself, I guess I am blown away by the fact that others blog and garner craploads of comments for seemingly no good reason. Quilt bloggers I have seen have many followers, and every entry receives some sort of feedback. What I don't understand is why I don't get anything by way of feedback; no greetings, compliments, criticisms, suggestions, questions, etc. You get the idea.

I get SPAM for the most part. And not even RELEVANT SPAM. It lacks intelligence; it insults my intelligence, and; it wastes my time.

It has also made me curmudgeonly and bitter, and you 98.9% people aren't worth it any more. You will not be allowed to drill in on my psyche and my self worth any more, so don't be surprised if you decide to look in on the blog one day and find you have no access. If you don't care enough to make an effort (even a little bit of one) why the hell should I?

That's right.....YOU SUCK! - you 98.9%. So put that in your bag of thoughtlessness and carry it around for a while. And while you're at it....bite me! If your readership is lost over this entry, as you can plainly tell, it wouldn't matter in the least. What difference would it make at this point?

Let's see if you respond to this. I am betting there won't be anything of value, one way or the other, left in the comments any time in the next month. If this is so, then you will have more time on your internet-trolling calendar very soon.

Congratulations.

WTH ? ! ? !

Challenges

A friend on a social network site challenged people to use one word to describe their 'ex.' Some folks answered directly and quickly, and some of them wrote paragraphs based on the answers of others.

I was neither of those; I asked whether or not I could hyphenate my answer - because one word was not going to accomplish the task.

Disappointing.
Underwhelming.
Philanderer (although "cheater" sounds clearer).
Abusive.
Drunkard.
Hurtful.
Lackluster.
Unfaithful.
Serial liar.
Uncommited.
Thoughtless.

Those are the most immediate thoughts which popped into my mind, but a more fitting word would be "regretful".

No, he has/had no regrets - rather, the regret is on my part.

I regret having continued with the marriage past the birth of my first son; I regret allowing my inlaws to sway my feelings to the point of closing my eyes to the big/bigger issues (a familial history of drinking to excess); I regret wanting to believe his lies and excuses when caught redhanded with evidence of cheating; I regret allowing myself to feel guilt with thoughts of leaving him to begin a happier life (which I should have done sooner); I regret marrying him in the first place, and not insisting upon one of several other options we could have embarked on (and no, abortion was not one of those).

So many regrets. More than I've listed here. More than I care to indulge in here, but this would be my list of words, any one of them appropriate, but not enough. Not completely, at any rate, but "regretful" comes closest, I suppose.

I am trying to put him out of my mind, trying to make up for lost time, trying to let go of those regrets.

This is a challenge.

Catching up

I took the time yesterday to finish the paint job I began last week (before leaving to stay with mom), but ended up in tears.

Everything was moving along fine, then I began to peel the tape at the wall junctions and at the ceiling. Yup, you guessed it! The paint came of in large pieces along the ceiling, and by the time I could get it to stop, several inches were gone! Today will be a day of cleaning up the edges with a blade; using plaster to fill in and smooth it all over; sanding the dry compound; washing the wall down in those areas, then; priming the repaired spots and repainting.

Although, to be truthful with myself, the priming and painting will most likely happen tomorrow. Everything needs drying time, and I don't want any further issues with this paint job!!! Besides, there were also spots in the middle of the wall where it bubbled up and pealed, too, and those will need the same treatment. So I have enough to do with the filling and such to keep me from priming and painting today.

I don't know why this happened, since the first layer went on without any hitches or glitches - this just doesn't make any sense. It was/IS all very frustrating and disappointing, and I washed up everything in a flood of tears last night.

The boys had their own clean-up to attend to, since Hobbes lay down with her tail draped across the lid of the paint can! I couldn't believe it - the one time I grabbed the can to pour more paint in the tray and went right back to work without replacing the can lid!!! Really, Hobbes?!?!?!?

I'm still shaking my head over that one. I'll keep you updated on everything. Sadly. I won't get to move the furniture to it's experimental spots, but that's the breaks I s'pose. Of course, it also means there will be a further delay in hanging the art back on the walls and getting the new quilt pole hung as well.

[heavy sigh]

I've had it with the world -- you load of jackasses!!!!! 

Neighbors.

Lying ex-husbands. 

Cheating ex-husbands.

Philandering bosses. 

Diddling uncles.

Contractors of ALL sorts who take your money & don't accomplish half of what they're paid for.

Hospitals that add charges for services not rendered & that allow doctors to roam the halls signing patient charts without ever seeing the patient.  And let's not forget double billing for ER docs.

Men who are fathers who don't act like it.  Losers who duck out on their parental responsibility and are absent for much of the formative years.  Snip, snip, fellas.

Would-be employers who tell you that they were looking for a younger person during the interview process.

Those who drive someones car with a handicap plate or sign, and then park in handicap spots because they think it's OK.  LAZINESS IS NOT A HANDICAP!

People who smoke on campus despite all the signage saying it's a COMPLETELY smoke-free zone.

Judges who dismiss your work as a copy of something else without checking facts or dates.

Cats that whiz outside the box when the damned thing is fresh.

People who throw their cigarette butts out a car window.  YOU HAVE ASHTRAYS IN YOUR CARS!!!

People who use the race card...right off the bat - for e v e r y encounter.  Hey, if you're stupid it really has nothing to do with your color or ethnicity.  Stupid is stupid - deal with it and fix yourself!

I'm certain there are more, but I am tired...and I'm pretty sure you get the idea.

Maybe tomorrow I will feel better, but you will all still be here.  So. . . . . . . . .the effing world can eat my shorts! 

And in other news:

Apparently JAF can't handle the truth, and Jacqueline has decided to vindictively cut from my schedule - and lie about the - classes I was scheduled for, giving them to another instructor. 

Yes, Jackie, that's right.  I am talking about you, n o w.

My earlier posts were re: your employer - not you, - and we both (all) know what I posted is the truth.  The wages paid contracted instructors (who are not Wilton-based) is disgustingly low, especially given the litany of issues instructors put up with all along the way. 

Your behavior in redistributing my classes, however - and lying about them all being cancelled, v the truth (most recently the apron class for 4/18 & 4/25), is really childish, petty, and apparently exactly as underhanded as one could expect all dealings at JAF would be.

Not cool.  SO not cool.

How about some sort of mediation to find a monetary solution to the JAF cheapness instead of the sneaky dirty dealing.

Unbelievable

Unbelievably enough, somebody decided to make off with my good (really good) yellow-fiberglasshandled shovel.

Yup!  Right here in dear ol' Clarkston, where all the people are as honest and upstanding as the year is long. [severe sarcasm intended] 

Uh-huh, right....bite me!  CLARKSTON, and the majority of people in Clarkston SUCK!!!

Clarkstonites are about as rude as rude can be, and behave as they're entitled as any bunch of snotty-nosed little children of parents who condescend toward everyone for no good reason - EVER!

If I had it all to do over again dot-dot-dot.

Aaaarrghghghghghghghghghhhhhhhhhhhh!

PS - I know lately my writing has been a little 'off,' so I am simply going to chalk it up to lack of drinking.  Also, I'm ticking off another mark in the "I-could-give-a-shit-that-you-may feel-that-the-writing-is-'off' Category," since no one (except for Maria and Jean - this last bit doesn't apply to you) ever reads this OR cares enough to respond or ask questions.