dailyprompt – Page 32 – The Hermits' Rest

What’s My Name?

What is your middle name? Does it carry any special meaning/significance?

This was today’s blog prompt. I know I already wrote today, but wanted to contribute. My name can be difficult!

Who am I? I see my dad when I look in the mirror.

My middle name given at birth is Ann. I’m one of the few people in my immediate family who doesn’t go by their middle name. My dad, mom, brother, sister, maternal grandmother and many of my dad’s siblings go or went by their middle names. My husband does, too.

I go by both my names, Sue Ann (when I’m not Suna, my self-bestowed name). I’m named for Bettye Sue (Aunt Pug) and Doris Ann, my dad’s sisters. I’m glad I got their middle names.

I think I wrote a post once about not calling me Sue. Yes. I did. So, go read that for more. I like having one of those Southern US two-word names. I do like them separated, so it’s vaguely annoying that Dell spelled my name SueAnn in their directory and what show up in email sent to me. It could be worse. Most of my Indian colleagues have some very interesting initials and truncated names in the system. You need to ask what to call them.

Names matter. Find out what people want to be called and pronounce it well. Folks appreciate it.

Don’t Ask Me

What is one question you hate to be asked? Explain.

This is the daily blogging prompt. When I saw it, I immediately knew the answer. It’s really hard on me when people ask:

How is your son?

Every time I’m asked, I’m reminded that it’s been years since I heard from him directly. One day he said he needed some time before he’d talk to me again, and that was that. So, I really don’t know how he is, other than indirectly.

Small melilot, bluebonnets, and Indian paintbrush, because I need a picture.

Maybe someday I’ll know what caused the rift. Maybe not. As I’m repeatedly reminded, it’s the estranged person’s right to do what they need to do, and that should be respected.

It’s not at all helpful to speculate about possible reasons for the situation, because I have no way to know. His father won’t talk to me about it, nor will anyone in his household. I’m glad they respect his wishes, and if the situation were reversed, I would be grateful.

When I’m sad, I hug Fiona. She always seems to like me.

Still, I’m human and a mother who loves her children unconditionally. So, it hurts to be asked how my son is doing. I wish him peace and love, and respect his wishes.

And that is my answer to the prompt.

Someone Asked Me This

Do you enjoy your job?

Honestly, the blogging software asked, but I was also asked by my contact at the company who contracts me out to Dell at my current position.

Yes, Bertie Lee, I do. I like it as much as I liked my previous job before they replaced my amazing boss with, um, someone else. I’d figured I’d stay until the contract ended next September then “retire.”

No, I’m not. I like having something to do, and if I’m helping people out, I feel good. In my current job, I help people use confusing yet powerful software to get their own work done. And I help my team get their work by answering questions so they don’t have to.

Did you hear that, Butter? She helps people just like she helps us hens! Do they thank her by giving eggs, like we do?

No, Bertie Lee, they thank me by giving respect and autonomy. There’s no micromanaging on our team, just encouragement and support. It helps that everyone is great at their jobs, of course. It’s been a great last hurrah in corporate America.

I’m just saying that if this job continues, I’ll keep going for another few years, though it’s tempting to have more time for horses and travel. I guess the month that Medicare kicks in is pretty much guaranteed to cause introspection!

I’m only as young as I feel, but other than the lingering wheeze, I feel as good as I ever have. And yes, I like my job.

PS: I only had time to take chicken pictures today. Much work followed by long-overdue grocery shopping filled the time. Good news is Zippy Bippy, the new car, can hold a LOT with the seats down.