Yesterday, I got a statement from my church for my yearly donations. There was no account of all the money I donated to the building fund from the cash people sent me for Mike's funeral. I called the office. Brenda remembered my asking for that arrangement. I wanted it created for tax purposes. The person I had to speak to wasn't going to be in until Monday.
I also noticed that there was a donation listed for $100 for June 27, 2019. I had intended to donate $1500. It is possible that the lady at the gift shop one heard the last word," hundred," and didn't hear the fifteen in front of it.
This has been a lousy day except for Jean's phone call, which brought me some comfort. The therapist Yvette and I are seeing was falling into the same trap the other one did. They see Yvette as beautiful, gentle, and graceful, all of which she is. They see me as angry, controlling, and verbally abusive. I certainly look that way when I get scared or in despair. What throws me into that state is always the same. I freak out when someone is not willing to negotiate with me. It's not just when people aren't willing to negotiate with me; I freak out when they are unwilling to search for the value in another's point of view and try to find a mutually beneficial solution for both parties. However, I can understand why that isn't very easy to see from my behavior.
Therapists tend to see me as self-centered. I had one who faked her attitude pretty well until the end of our sessions together. In contrast, Mike said he saw me as someone who would work for my interests AND the interests of others. He never changed his mind about me in forty-five years. He considered me one of the most generous, compassionate people he knew. In all fairness to therapists, I have at least two family members who also see me as self-centered.
On the other hand, I recently had an experience where I found myself very uncomfortable with someone's behavior whose friendship I truly valued. This person wasn't abusive of me, merely dismissive of others' concerns with whom I was in conflict. So hard for me. I need help seeing how we can all get what we need.
Besides the problems with therapy, I hired a tree man today. I was dreading the bill. Given what I feared it would be, it wasn't that bad, $2000. But as I walked around with him discussing which trees to cut back, I noticed that the gardeners hadn't done a very good job. I also thought they hadn't put in a full day the last time they were here. I was getting the feeling I was getting less bang for the buck since Mike's death. I have to do one of two things: I have to fire this crew and get new gardeners, or I have to confront the lead guy. He will only come on days where I will be home to observe when they work. He has to show me what he plans to do before he starts and then show me what has been done at the end of the day. This is the one chore that I have to take over from Mike that's unfamiliar and hard. He didn't do much over the last year because he felt so lousy, but there was a man in the house whose opinion they valued. I have to become a tough broad.
Yvette came up to talk. Our therapy sessions are hard. While I think we got a lot done, we are both getting a better idea of how the other operates, and we are both confirming our commitment to each other as we work. I didn't walk out feeling that tension had been dissolved. Later that night, while I was watching TV, she came in and told me that she had an insight during the day, which will help us move our relationship along. I am so grateful for her participation, her effort. I know that she is also thankful for mine.
Scott came by to check on the toilet, which Lowes had delivered. There was a question as to whether or not I would like the color. It was hard to tell when it was unpacked in the driveway if it was off white versus pure white. The difference is subtle, but I think it will satisfy me. When Scott got the whole thing unpacked, he found two things missed: the wax ring needed to seal the toilet's bottom to the floor and the toilet seat.
When I checked the blog this morning, I didn't see any entries. I texted Sandor to see if there was some special trick. He had texted me last night to confirm the email address. I found it on the computer and sent him the information, but nothing was posted this morning. He told me he had tried too many times, and the access was blocked. He had to send a request to the company; they would text me a passcode on my phone that I had to give him to unlock the blog and get back in.
Sometime before dinner, Elsa was barking none stop. When I went to check, I saw what I thought was Sandor's car in the driveway, but I didn't see Sandor. I hadn't expected him to come to the house. I thought he would call me, tell me to ask for a code to enter the blog; I would get the code and immediately call him with it. Instead, he came all the way here to do it. It didn't take too long. I got the passcode, gave it to him, and he was in. He left shortly after that to go home and launch the blog on blogger.com.
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