Back in late February, I had a panic attack. There was a combination of factors that I believe brought the whole thing on (the primary one is still something I don’t feel comfortable talking about in much detail), but essentially what it all came down to was me doing my normal thing, being an observer, but instead of putting my thoughts and feelings out somewhere I was internalizing. Stewing over a variety of things from the inconsequential to the life-changing. And for some reason on that day, everything exploded.

Most things have gone back to normal. I still get the tingles sometimes, the pains in my muscles that signal an attack is trying to build up, and the occasional bout of unexplained weepiness. That’s only sometimes though. I feel good and I don’t wake up scared every morning that I’m going to deal with the crippling fear of death’s imminence.

There is one thing that has never really gone back to normal though. Something that had been such a constant in my life that nowadays I will have someone ask me about it and I’ll have to answer with an honest, “I don’t know.” And then they look at me like I’ve entered the room riding one of the horses of the apocalypse.

I stopped watching the news. I turned off NPR. Changed my radio presets to Gospel/preaching*—Classical—Soft rock—Oldies—Pop—Soft rock (in that order according to where they sit on the dial. You know, OCD and all). I turned off the TV for the most part and started watching my Dr. Quinn DVDs whenever I was waiting for my next Netflix DVD.

Some of the things in the news had stirred up a lot of emotions in me. A lot of them in roundabout ways (idiots attempting to bait me with simple discussion questions that turned into a knock-down, drag-out debate) and I won’t say that it was totally the content of the news. Just something about it keys me up. I get a thrill and really enjoy watching most news programs over anything else. But now? My love for journalistic reporting has died down to almost nothing. On one had I can’t stand to hear the anchors sing the praises of Obama, on the other I hate that every word coming out of a person’s mouth is condemnation of the president. There is no middle ground that I see. Even if it did exist, I’m not sure that I’d want to be any part of it. It reminds me too much of being “lukewarm.”

I have eased back into TV “news” just a smidge. I do love Fox & Friends Weekend and if I wake up in time I try to watch it on my couch with a cup of coffee. But it’s not the first thing that I turn on anymore. You’re more likely to find me listening to a relaxation podcast than sitting in front of a TV blasting the headlines. It’s been a nice break and I can’t say that I feel like I’m missing too much. If history is any guide, all it would take to get me sitting in front of the set again would be a national tragedy or celebrity death.** But who knows when I’ll be back to my old routine, if ever. I do have a male residing in my home now and I’ve noticed that the amount of time the dial spends on ESPN has gone up by like 5000%…

*This particular preaching is hard-hitting on the mega-church, GospelLite ™, “prosper in all things” preachers that are so prevalent these days. I like that.
**This was written on Wednesday, June 24, 2009. Who would have known we’d have Farrah and MJ the next day…

♥ tomatoes still warm from the sun
♥ puppies splashing in pool
♥ the gentle buzz in the air at night
♥ how the sky seems so much bigger
♥ snowcones
♥ the farmer’s market
♥ fried squash
♥ a haircut for summer
♥ iced water with lemon wedges
♥ trips to the lake
♥ campfires
♥ a long time ‘til sunset
♥ watering plants in the early morning hours

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Today I celebrated one year with the company I work for. I haven’t written much about my work here, for the most part because I’d like to not ever end up dooced. Even mentioning the name of the company is something that I’ve been careful about because I don’t want people to assume that my political or religious leanings are something shared by all of my coworkers or the management team. That, and I would never want them to judge my workplace and the people there based on what they see in me…but if they do, I hope that what they are witness to in my life is something that wouldn’t turn them off of doing business there.

It’s interesting work that I do. I’m a receptionist. And as I’ve mentioned before, a lot of us are some of the most abused, underestimated, overqualified, kind, and knowledgeable individuals you will ever encounter. With all of that said, there are plenty out there that give this particular career a very bad name. Just this past week someone reached my blog by searching for the terms “why are receptionists white bimbos?” We can see that you’ve made up your mind already, sir.

And yes I am making the assumption that it’s a man.

When I started out doing front desk work I assumed that it would be a part time, temporary gig that I would end up hating (like everything else I’d done…I need something different and exciting on a daily basis to keep my interest). Turns out that I was wrong. I have learned so much sitting in my big purple chair. Answering phones and working a front desk is not the most intellectually stimulating job that I’ve had, but it’s far more so than the day school was (there your brain slips into a “off air” mode and the only thing flowing through your brain during the few moments the din settles down is that awful buzz of white noise).

Things I Have Learned While Sitting in My Big Purple Chair AKA Stuff You Need to Know About Being a Good Receptionist

1. A smile goes a long way…even over the phone. People can tell when you are happy as well as when you are completely disinvested in whatever their issue is. Don’t be the latter.
2. Some of your callers will think you’re dumb. Change their mind. If you can’t, make them hold. (Kidding, you don’t want to get canned.)
3. It works out best for the both of you if you pretend you didn’t hear the caller burp right when you picked up the phone.
4. To maintain your self-respect, remember (every day)—you are not defined by your position in the company, the desk you sit at, the way people speak to you, or the numbers on your paycheck.
5. Be joyful in your work even if you do not find your joy there.
6. It is best to leave your work at work. Rejoice in the fact that you can with this type of job. (I make a point to not dwell on work matters after I’ve spilled whatever I need to from the day to Kevin’s poor ears.)
7. Dress (put on makeup, jewelry, etc.) like you are glad to be working there and like you’re paid well. Not like you need a job or want to lose the one you have. (I notice our searcher described receptionists only as “white bimbos.” To me that carries a lot of meaning with it. “Bimbos” infers stupidity, while “white” refers to ones skin and possibly hair. Let’s go with blond on that one, though they haven’t got me pegged on that bit either. Putting the two together creates this fantastically cliché stereotype—a cute little blond who, while she may not be going to law school anytime soon, is attractive.) Can we not dress nicely, wear some makeup, do something to our hair AND be intelligent, helpful, and kind? Seems like people view receptionists in one of two ways: blond, cheery, and clueless or brunette, mousy w/ glasses, and good at her job.

I realized today that I never wrote about my bachelorette party. Well now, I can’t go into the details about the wedding before telling you all about this, can I?

Let me start out by saying that in no way am I your typical 24-year-old woman and I’m just not a partier. Never have been. I think it’s trashy and I’ll say that to whomever. It is. So my party was a little low-key event with a few of my good friends.

We all met up at my house and from there we went on to the Olive Garden for salad, as the evening was going to be a progressive dinner party (very fun thing to do). After we had our salads we moved on to the mall where I had to do a few ridiculous things to get some stars on my sweater. Including asking this little boy questions about marriage. I’m not sure who was more mortified.

While we were there we played a game that I had such trouble understanding (long day at work after the early shift!) I’ll spare you the pain of me trying to explain it here. There was a little math involved and I failed miserably. Next, we went on to McDonald’s (all of these stops were a surprise for me) and skidattled on through the drive-thru for my favorite fast food meal—a McDonald’s cheeseburger.

Our final stop was in OKC, where I had to stand on a street corner and paint a large poster for Kevin, a poster that I had to take inside the last restaurant where we went for dessert…my favorite, can you guess? It’s The Melting Pot. We had this fabulous white chocolate/amaretto fondue that I was careful about choosing because I knew it was one Kevin would never really want to try. He’s pretty no frills when it comes to his chocolate fondue.

I had a lovely time with two of my bridesmaids, Heather and Aaryn, and my dear friend Jennifer, who you may or may not know from another blog. Somewhere. That’s all I can say. Thank you, ladies!