Who Matters

I'm normally not a fan of forwarded emails, but once in a while I get a good one.  Tonight I got an email with this sentiment that I really liked (unfortunately I don't know who the original author is):

"There comes a point in your life when you realize:

Who matters,

Who never did,

Who won't anymore,

And who always will.

So, don't worry about people from your past; there's a reason why they didn't make it to your future."

I sometimes (more than I'd like to admit) let my thoughts drift to people in my past and mistakes I feel like I've made.  I get caught up in worrying about how people labeled me in my youth and what they would think of me now.  This sentiment is a good reminder to myself that it really shouldn't matter what happened in the past and I definitely have nothing to prove to those I look back at who said hurtful things in my younger days.  

Happiness and Regrets

One of the tv shows I enjoy watching is "House".  I was catching up on this week's episode tonight and had to write down this line as it seemed rather poignant.  The plot focuses on a woman who was a top cancer researcher and left her career to do something that would make her happy over something that she felt she "should" be doing.  Towards the end of the episode she's talking to one of the dr.'s treating her and he remarks that he often thinks about what he will regret when he's lying on his deathbed reflecting on his life.  She answers him, "You're going to spend one day of your life on your deathbed.  It's the other 25,000 we should worry about.  Go to bed happy tonight."

I often have to remind myself that no one will look back on my life after I die and say, "Gosh, she was a great Business Analyst." or "She really had a knack for redoing templates at work and project management."  At least I really hope that's not what I'm remembered for.  I'd hope that people look back on my life as being a good mother, wife, and kind person.  I'd like to believe that those things I do outside of my 40 hours a week at work make an impact on others and at the same time make me happy.

I would love to find a job that I could also count in the makes me happy column, but I'm not sure I'm ready for that leap yet.  For now I content myself with enjoying the people I work with (well most of them anyway).  

I do think I'll have regrets in the end; I'm guessing most people do.  I hope though that if I can confine them to the part of my life that falls lowest on the totem pole of overall importance that it won't be so bad.

Granola Contraband

Yesterday in true Mommy fashion after work I picked up Alanna, went to Costco to pick up a multitude of items on the grocery list, then took her to Target to get new tennis shoes and the remaining household list items.  

In a likely vain attempt to try to take small steps towards losing weight and save money at the same time, the items on my list included diet soda (so I wouldn't be tempted to spend an insane amount at the overpriced soda machine at work) and healthy snacks.  One of my coworkers has been raving about Kashi granola bars so I thought I'd pick some up while at Target.

In the granola bar section of the store, it was obvious all of the Peanut Butter flavors had been pulled from the shelves due to the recall.  So I picked out Chocolate Raspberry, Trail Mix, and Dark Chocolate Cherry.

At the checkout, the guy began ringing up my items and got to one of the boxes of granola bars.  He scanned it, stopped, looked at the screen and got this deathly serious look on his face.  I honestly thought from the look that perhaps the computer had frozen and he was going to have to rering the items that were already bagged and in my cart.  He looked me square in the eye and in this secret service tone uttered, "Ma'am, I can't sell you these granola bars."

I quizzically raised a brow and said, "Why?  They're not peanut butter ones.  Those were all gone from the shelves."

He replied again in this OMG serious tone that they were marked for recall.  He then proceeded to wave over an Asst. Manager type young lady.  As she was walking over, he continued ringing my items and came to another box and the computer must have told him it was an evil bad box and that it too could not leave the store with my person because he got "that look" again.  "I can't sell you this one either", this time with almost a tone of sympathy as if my granola bar box had just passed on to the next life.

At that same moment, Asst. Mgr comes over and looks at me (I kid you not!) with this accusatory gaze and asks, "Where did you find these granola bars?"  

Because obviously I had uncovered some secret contraband stash of recalled granola bars and was in league with a whole group of people conspiring to purchase them openly at the cash registers.

After I replied that I found them on the shelves in the GRANOLA BAR SECTION (don't worry, I was nice about it even though the DUH was coming through very loudly in my head), she rushed off with little red baskets one can only assume to remove the foul boxes and have them promptly destroyed by people in HazMat suits.  The world can breathe easy once more.