A Has Been

During my lifetime I have worked at being...

• a student
• a U.S.P.S letter carrier
• an engineering assistant on A-7 jets
• an accounting clerk
• an executive assistant for a large company Corporate Operations Controller
• a chemical technician on a solar energy project
• a software designer for missile systems, image processing, toll tags, software telephony for mobile systems, and a web designer
• finally a college graduate
• a cruise travel agent
• a database designer
• a friend

I have Volunteered as...

• a Girl Scout leader
• a Girl Scout leader trainer
• a church choir member, building committee member and secretary, a church newsletter publisher
• a voluntary homeowner association secretary and HOA newsletter publisher
• a gatherer and coordinator for high school classmates communication and reunion planner

My Hobbies and other interests include...

• swimming
• sewing
• cooking, baking, candy making
• macrame
• crocheting
• tatting
• bead and jewelry making
• jigsaw puzzles
• cards, board games, sudoku, crossword puzzles
• dogs and cats
• writing stories and poems

None of this has helped me—as a large, older, female—find a job with a large company with benefits. Many of these things I no longer do, but I could. There are classes I have taken that I never had the opportunity to use their knowledge.  Yet, even that is not what makes me a has been.

The fact that no one else recognizes or appreciates any of the skills and talents that I worked hard to acquire, that lack of acknowledgment is what makes me a has been.

Senior Moments

I had what I thought might be a senior moment.

It occurred to me around 8:00 PM the other night that it was probably one of the last low temperature evenings until the end of summer. I also remembered I had a rump roast in the freezer that needed to be, well, roasted—with potatoes and carrots. Cooking now, the oven would warm the house at a time that it was needed. Knowing this would take a long time to cook, starting at a low temperature since the beef was frozen solid, I planned to eat my supper a little after midnight. I won't mention here that I'm on a really weird sleep schedule.

So I unwrapped the roast, washed it, put it into my pot, covered it, and slid it into a 300° oven.

Once I could pierce the meat without difficulty, I added the potatoes and carrots, and cooked it another hour. When I could smell the delicious aroma after a third hour, I turned the temperature up to 375° until it was done

It was 1:00 AM by the time I got the gravy made and dished up a plate of sliced beef—well done for me—and a couple of spoonfuls of veggies.

When I sat down to eat, thoroughly enjoying every bite of the perfect meal, I noticed no sign of carrots on my plate. Although I could taste the flavor of them in the meat and potatoes, I started questioning myself as to whether I had put them in the pot to begin with. There should have been some little orangey signs on the potatoes even if I didn't get any in my spoonfuls. I wondered, if one cooks carrots long enough will they just dissipate into the liquid?

THAT was my almost senior moment. I got up to look at the remaining veggies in the kitchen and voila, there were the little baby carrot culprits.

This wasn't the first time I've seriously questioned myself. My first senior moment was when I went to the freezer in the garage to get a half gallon of Blue Bell ice cream. I was so disappointed when I couldn't find any because I was sure there were two half gallons in there. After a couple of hours of running the scenario through my mind, trying to recall when I might have eaten a whole gallon of French Vanilla (2 half gallons), I decided to take another look and found them way in the back of the freezer behind several dozen packages of homemade tamales.

I think I'd have fewer senior moments if I'd just quit remembering I'm getting older.

The Gap

In the wee hours of the morning, yet another session reviewing my imperfections in my 5X magnifying mirror has taken place. Since I have allergies and rub my eyes a lot, I’ve always thought that was the cause of the obvious gap in my eyelashes at the center front of my right eyelid. For 50+ years I’ve tried to make my eyelashes curved, lush and lengthy with mascara and that awkward curling tool, to no avail. As of my recent exam, a new discovery has been made. That perfection is impossible because my right eyelid has a cowlick at the lash line, thus explaining the 50-year gap!