Never Say Never

I never thought I would join the blogging world.  After I had a MySpace account I said I would never sign up for Facebook. Ha! After Facebook I said I would never signup for Twitter.  You can  follow me now on  Twitter.com/tntotty  After Twitter I said there is absolutely no way I would ever be a blogger.  Here I am sitting and writing my first blog.  What happened to the Zanga days?  Does anyone even remember that?  Past social media networking I can look back on my life on a much grander scale and see that there were decisions I’ve made I never thought I could make, said things I never thought I’d say, made mistakes I never thought I would make, accomplishments I never thought I would accomplish, took steps of faith I never thought I could take.   You would think by now I would have learned to NEVER say never about anything… ever. 

Why am I blogging?  A few days ago I was on the phone with my dad and I was telling him about something that had happened to me that day. The story was sort of  like a “just my luck” kind of story with a great deal of sarcasm. While he laughed in hysterics at whatever it was I was telling him, I have no recollection of what it was he mentioned that I should look into blogging.  This is also the guy who told me I could try and resist Twitter as much as I wanted but social media networking is here to stay and eventually I would cave.   My dad is more of a social media butterfly than I am.  I can get him to respond to me via a “Tweet” faster than I can by texting or even calling him! #whataretheodds  #mydadthinkshesabird #tweettweet After our conversation, I couldn’t get the blogging thing out of my mind. I was so nervous about doing it.  It’s like a public diary.  What boundaries do I not cross?  Will I blog something that will offend someone?  Who will really be reading it? Then I said the heck with it! I’m doing it.  I need to do it.  It was almost like I saw it as….. an outlet.   Let me explain. 

Earlier in the spring of this year I decided to change career paths.  I was working for an insurance company in the Underwriting department. Blah. Even that sentence alone just bored me to tears.  This department was also known as “The Nursing Home” or instead of Underwriting it was known as the “Undertaker’s” department.  Nearly everyone in it looked like they had 2 options: retire or die. I hated it.  I hated sitting in a blue carpeted box all day staring out the window wishing I was outside. I know, at least I had a window view, right?  I hated the whole monthly numbers and quota “game.”  I was tired of pulling the same old pranks just to keep myself entertained for the day. Caution: Taking an old person’s wheel off their office rolley chair could result in a horrendous face plant.   Whoopsie! The ones that didn’t have death or the future of becoming a Florida raisin knocking at their doors yet were at that point in their lives where they had been there too long to leave the company, step out and try something else, and were full of regrets and what ifs.  They.Were.Bitter.  Yuck!  Which then just fed into the vicious cycle of never ending fights about who just put on lotion that is too strong that was going to send them into an asthma attack, whose vine plant is growing over the side of my cubicle, who’s turn it was on the team to organize the next big birthday slop food day, and who’s turn it was to rally up the team to give money towards the Christmas gift for the boss that no one can stand.    I knew if I did not put my big girl panties on and step out on a leap of faith I was heading down that same road. 

Although I loathed my job in Underwriting  it did allow me a few opportunities to do something out of the norm of my every day job. I was given the opportunity to travel to a couple places in the U.S. and work in-office doing administrative work on the Catastrophe claims side of  insurance.  Catastrophe Claims were basically when catastrophic events would strike like Hurricane Katrina in 2005 or Hurricane Ike in 2008.  When I arrived at my first “CAT site” I was in complete amazement.  All day I would watch these sweaty men and a few women come in and out of the office with their “kits” which consisted of a laptop, an aircard and a printer and all the tangled up cords that come along with it. They wore tool belts which consisted of a measuring tape, a clipboard somehow strapped to it, and chalk. God knows what all the other “stuff” hanging off of it was and they wore funny looking boots. They would come to the office and turn in their claims they worked that day.  I in turn would process their paperwork.   I watched them as they cut up with one another and talk about how they needed to buy some new pads for their Cougar’s Paws.  I remember thinking …new pads for their Cougar’s Paws?!  What in the world is in their job description outside of this office?! I later learned that it was Cougar Paws not Cougar’s Paws. It was the brand of the funny looking shoes I had seen them wearing. They are a type of roofing shoe that allows you to walk on steep roofs. After so many uses you have to change the pads on the bottom of the boot/shoe.  Then I would watch them get in their cars and trucks with ladders strapped to the top of them and drive off into the sunset.   For some reason I said to myself… “I want to do that!”  

Well…. After a couple years of contemplating this job and with much prayer I’m doing just that! I decided that life began outside my comfort zone and I was ready to live.  I took all the necessary steps which consisted of a licensing test full of information I’ll hardly ever use in my job and 2 other certifications.  I jumped ship from cubicle world unsure of when I would actually have work. All depends on the weather. Now here I am a Southern Belle from Tennessee in New York, New York working as an Insurance Adjuster on my first catastrophic storm -Hurricane Irene.  I could not be more excited about this new adventurous chapter in my life and so far I am loving the job -roof climbing, funny shoe wearing, tool belt and all.  So what if my Cougar Paws may have pink shoe laces in them!  There’s just one thing …I’m working and training under my step-dad.  Not to be confused with my tech savy, social media butterfly, Chuck Taylor wearin’ real dad. Who thinks he's hip. My step-dad.  The tattooed coal miner with brown foot prints trailing out of the crack of his rear end, used to have a mullet down to his back in the 90’s, beer bottle opener on the bottom of his flip-flops, bowling pin of a step-dad.  Bowling Pin: White with a redneck.   I never thought I would be working with my step-dad. Growing up its a wonder we didn't kill one another.  Hence the need for an "outlet".  Never say never...ever. 

I know this first blog was long and a lot of ground work but I had to give it to you.  So many topics I wanted to go off on a tangent on in this blog.  So stayed tuned because you never know what you’ll read on The Potty Totty Pages.