Category: A Moment in My Life

A Moment in My Life – Tuesday, August 25, 2020

“You’ll need to cut them in half and bundle them, or we can’t take them,” the Scavenger rep said.

The nanites like ants gone crazy surged through every nook and cranny of my mind in panic. “I don’t think I can do that!” My eyes darted from the pile of tree stakes on my garage floor to the tools lining my garage wall, hoping a bright idea would jump out.

“We can’t take them if we can’t carry them. Why don’t you call us back when you can get them cut?”

My blood pressure skyrocketed at the prospect of having to wait another week to offload the gate and these stakes. “Can you please give me an appointment? I’ll see what I can do. I will get them together in time for pick up.” As she checked her calendar, my eyes continued to survey my options. There was the hedge trimmer hanging on my wall, which gave me an idea. I couldn’t see myself cutting ten 2 inches in diameter wooden poles, let alone one of them with a manual saw. My arms were still shaking after I sawed five of the half-inch rubber bands to release the stakes. Luckily, the other five stakes were cut years ago and lying by the side of the house. Suddenly, lightbulb! “I can get an electric saw and try cutting them myself.” 

Now, to get that electric saw. Do I really want to buy an electric saw for one use? No, not really. I decided to ask my friend, Gil, the gadgets guy, to borrow his if he had one. Surprisingly, he did not. Instead of lending me a saw, he loan me his fears. “Why do you want an electric saw?”

“Because I don’t have the strength to use a manual saw,” I said. “An electric saw should be easier for me to use.”

“And easier to cut yourself, too,” Gil said.

Ugh. Why would he have to be a negative Nellie? I know he’s concerned for my well-being, but at that moment, I needed courage and an electric saw.

He was successful in instilling fear and doubt in me. I no longer thought doing it myself was the best option. That’s when I remembered God’s teachings that we are to serve by lending a helping hand to those in need and being receptive to asking and receiving help when we need it. 

Begrudgingly, I knew that now was when I needed to exercise asking for help. After all, many people said to me after Mark’s demise, “If you need anything at all, just ask.” I haven’t used any of those offers yet. I was hoping I wouldn’t need to call in a favor.

It turned out that with Shelter in Place, calling in a favor wasn’t that easy. Luckily, my new gardener, Mike, saved the day. He not only helped me manually cut these stakes in half, but he offered to cut them into pieces that would fit in my green bin, saving me the hassle of bundling and lugging the heavy bundles out to the curb for pick up. He did an excellent job and impressed me with how neatly he stood them up in my bin. I expect him to charge me for that service, but at the same time, I am thoroughly grateful that he took that load off my shoulders.

It was a great idea to ask for help with those stakes because I am still recuperating from hauling the wooden gate from my garage to the curbside. What was that gate made of? Good golly, it was heavy! I’m glad I moved it from the side of the house to the garage last week. I had a week to rest before hauling it the rest of the way to the curb. Even though it was a fast and short-haul, I was sweating, huffing and puffing for air, and my body was like jelly afterward. I feel like I went through an hour-long boot camp.

My girlfriend told me that I should’ve asked some guy to haul the gate out for me, and if not for Shelter in Place, I would’ve done just that. I would’ve asked someone and then treat him to a meal as a token of my appreciation. With Shelter in Place, however, I didn’t want to bother anybody, and it was something that I could do myself as hard as it was. I am grateful for the help that I did get, and Mike Valle is my hero!

Friends, if you are looking for a gardener, call Mike and tell him I sent you. He doesn’t know I’m giving him a plug here.

http://www.kickyergrass.com/

www.facebook.com/kickyergrass

A Moment in My Life – Friday, August 21, 2020

Yesterday, I received an unexpected Facebook friend request from a guy I casually know from one of my walks of life whom I would never in a gazillion years expect anything. Although a month or so after Mark’s demise, he invited me to lunch, as did many of my friends. I assumed, his invitation was out of compassion and kindness like everybody else. I gently declined the invitation as it didn’t feel right to me at that time. I ran into him a few times during the year, and as soon as he brought up our lunch date again, I quickly shut it down. With SiP, I hoped that we would move on and conveniently forget about it. I did until the Facebook friend request showed up.

It’s interesting how relationships happen. Some click right away. Some take their time. Some take a lot of work. Some bring out the worst in you while others bring out the best. Some, you end up not able to live without them. Others, you wish you never met. The bottom line, all relationships are unique. Most happen unexpectedly. The beauty of it is the journey that enriches your life for the better or the worst.

Some people come into your life to broaden your horizon—to provide a new experience that adds a touch of street smart to your portfolio. Some things you can’t learn from books. 

I had this buddy in high school who shared many of my interests, and we clicked immediately. I introduced him to my girlfriends, and he quickly became part of the gang as an honorary girlfriend. One day, my girlfriends took me aside and alerted me that my buddy told everybody that I was his girlfriend. I didn’t believe what they said. Why would he do that? We were buddies! They didn’t believe the rumors either, at first. Until they noticed how he was around me and that it was apparent, I was more than a friend. I so did not see the obvious.

I was devastated when I confronted him, and he confirmed the rumors. Why did that have to happen? We had a good friendship going. Knowing the truth made being around him awkward. This relationship that once was a fun one became a labor-intensive one where I had to tread lightly and not further mislead him. Now that my horizon has broadened, I realized that sometimes you couldn’t change the facts. People are the way that they are. We have to accept them or let them go instead of trying to change them or ourselves to make it work. Usually, people revert to their true selves regardless of how hard they try to please. 

My buddy agreed that we would be “just friends.” He cared enough for me to do that. I was okay with the setup if we could pull it off. As a show of good faith, he introduced me to a friend of his. We hit off well and began dating. 

I thought being “just friends” might work when, out of nowhere, he said, “If you love someone, set them free. If they come back they’re yours; if they don’t they never were.” Interesting that he would quote that, but I chalked it off to him being a dreamer, and I let it slide. 

Something in my gut said, “Caution!” I tried to dismiss the red flag. Your gut feelings don’t lie. You might need a bit more to understand what it’s telling you. In this case, my gut was right. It turned out; my buddy was playing a game with his friend and me. Only he knew the rules. I guess he didn’t expect my boyfriend and me to talk. Once we did, we figured out the game he was playing. The giveaway—when he told my boyfriend, “May the best man win!” Then, my eyes opened, and I understood what my gut was telling me about his quote.

Sadly, that friendship was not salvageable because of my buddy’s agenda. I learned that regardless of how far we’ve come, we still need to be careful in friendships with the opposite sex. You never know when our emotions might betray us and jeopardize a good friendship.

My buddy made me a bit more street smart that day. Since then, I trust my gut feelings more, and when it doesn’t like something, I’ve learned to steer clear of it. In the case of my Facebook friend request, it might be wise if I do not accept it.

____ 

Footnote: 

If you love someone, set them free. If they come back they’re yours; if they don’t they never were. — Richard Bach

A Moment in My Life – Thursday, August 20, 2020

Today is day 20 of the year 2020, which reminded me of 8/8 at 8:00. What about that? I’m glad you asked. I attempted to launch my writing career on August 1, 2019, but a friend suggested that if I began any business on 8/8 at 8:00, my business would be a success. Cool! I want my business to be a success! Okay, then, I shall wait until 8/8 at 8:00 to begin my first fulltime writing day. I was suspicious that that would work, but I had writer’s block for more years than I care to count that I was willing to try anything.  

You can imagine my excitement on 8/8 at 8:00 when I sat down in front of my MacBook and began my fulltime writer’s life. I started my day with a writer’s prompt to get me writing, which it did. It felt good to write again. I had little structure and not much of a plan except to write. A few hours later, I realized that I should set up some business objectives, and I did. I busied myself with whatever I could think of to work on that would advance my business. By the end of my workday, I felt happy that I completed day one. Well, I applied chair glue and worked at my writing life. Doesn’t that count? I know what you’re thinking. My first day doesn’t sound like much happened, and you’re right—but there is always tomorrow! After all, I didn’t have to worry since I started my business on 8/8 at 8:00, and it will succeed!

The next day, I couldn’t get my act together to begin working. I convinced myself to start at 11:00 and write for one hour before my lunch date at noon, and that would be better than nothing. I managed to apply chair glue long enough to do the day’s writing prompt. That was all that I mustered for day two. My lunch date took three hours. I enjoyed it as you could imagine but that killed productivity big time.

I will cut to the chase and not bore you with all the mundane details. The following week my workdays looked a lot like day two. By midweek, I decided to deep clean my house in preparation for my family’s visit in the last week of the month. I told myself I’d resume my writing life after my family’s visit, which never materialized. I lost the momentum that I didn’t have. My life got busier and busier, and that was it. When you are flying solo, you learn how much you have to do. I live my life dealing with tasks by priority, and there are always things waiting for me to do.

 I spent the last year recovering from my status change and recovering from my second heart attack, which caused me to rewrite my life as a whole. I was getting things in order, healing and improving my home, everything, including my wellness. There was one area remaining that I needed to address—my writer’s life. One of the last things Mark said to me was, “If you are going to write, now is the time. Just do it!” 

Fast forward to spring 2020. I was ready and determined to attempt relaunching my writing career. I planned to cancel everything off my calendar and become a hermit to ensure that I did it. Coincidentally, Covid-19 happened, forcing us into Shelter in Place (SiP). I took advantage of this opportunity to work on my productivity. I was a wimp at saying no to social invitations. Thanks to SiP, I didn’t have to say no after all.

On Monday, May 11, 2020, I relaunched my writer’s life. This time, I approached it, not counting on luck, but instead, on a thorough game plan, self-discipline, and hard work. I prepared myself by rising at 6:00 every day to get myself ready like I was going to a real job and do my daily writing before I checked into work at 8:00. I decided I didn’t want to be a writer who wrote 24/7 because I have other things to do, and I love socializing with friends so that I would work 4 hours a day on weekdays. If I get into my writer’s zone, I will write longer, but I will live my life. I treated my work like a job starting with orientation, setting up business spreadsheets, and apps that I would use for work only. I perused my writer’s journal and created storyboards for my story ideas. Then, I was ready to begin writing. All of this prep work during the first two weeks were necessary and wonderful, but until week three, when I started writing, I was sitting on pins and needles worrying. What if I can’t write anymore? What if I’m fooling myself? The only way to find out was to write. I was elated when I completed my first essay that day. 

That wasn’t good enough for me, though, but it was a start. It was a long road back to writing for me. Like an alcoholic, I take it one day at a time. Every day I produce a finished piece, I count my blessings, not luck. Since then, God has blessed me with many written essays that I don’t take for granted. 

Like an alcoholic, I count the days of my success. Today marks week 15, day 4 of living my writer’s dream, and I am forever grateful. I rely on discipline, a solid game plan, hard work, and His blessings. For some people, numerology may be the thing for them, but it isn’t worth worms to me.

A Moment in My Life – Wednesday, August 19, 2020

The other day, a surprise came in the mail—a Bird of Paradise mask from my dear friends, Carol and Kyle. I had forgotten that in a conversation I mentioned to them I love Bird of Paradise, but they didn’t forget. They saw this mask and thought of me. I’ve been blessed with people thinking of me with the perfect masks. A couple of months back, I received my first surprise mask gift. My older sister began making masks and sent me an assortment of purple ones.

I used to think it was weird seeing perfectly healthy-looking young people wearing medical masks in their everyday routines. I would never have suspected that mask-wearing would become our way of life. At the beginning of SiP, masks, in general, were hard to come by, let alone fancy, statement-making personalize ones. When it was determined necessary to wear a mask, I obliged. I disliked it. It was cumbersome. It distorted my movement and my view, but if it keeps us safe, then let me have it. It’s weird how a little thing like a mask on your face could change your outlook tremendously.

On that note, I remember going to Safeway in Millbrae one afternoon when social distancing began. It was during the early stages of learning more about Covid-19. Every day we were adding more rules to the social distancing protocols. I was still dancing around people treating everyone like they were a weapon to my destruction. I wouldn’t be out of my house if I could’ve avoided it. You can imagine how nervous I was when this stranger approached me in the store and struck up a conversation. The day before, I had just learned that being near someone for longer than 15 minutes was risky. As he talked on and on, I moved my body farther away from him, keeping the length of my shopping cart between us. He was totally amicable and chatty. I was totally freaking out. We both wore masks. I was also wearing gloves, but I wasn’t feeling brave. God gave me a second chance to live last year, and I wasn’t going to squander it. Without being rude, I excused myself with, “Well, nice chatting with you. I’ll let you get your shopping done. Have a nice day!” and I left.

A little while later, the same man pulled up next to me at the back of the store and continued yakking away as if we were old friends. Again, I positioned my cart between us. He didn’t seem to get the 6 feet apart rule. Granted, it was new, and we were beginning to acclimate to it, but I was uncomfortable with him standing so close to me. 

Had it been another time before Covid-19, I probably would’ve welcomed his friendliness and enjoyed getting to know him. Wait. Come to think of it, before Covid-19, nobody did that—strike up a long conversation with me in a supermarket! It was almost as if the mask gave him confidence. I don’t know. I make up what I don’t know. 

This incident made me think of all those drivers who would cut you off with their cars because they were inside their vehicles, but they wouldn’t think to cut you off in line without their mask, i.e., their vehicle. The same thing with this stranger, I guess. We couldn’t see each other’s faces, and that provided some sort of security? I could be all wrong. He might have just been a super-duper friendly man. Maybe, more likely, he was starved for social interaction? I don’t know. I wasn’t rude or nasty to him. I engaged in chatting with him as best as possible while keeping socially distanced from him, but he had the gift to gab. First chance I got; I said my goodbyes, again. I felt terrible, but that day was just not the right time or place for socializing. I had already stood in line outside to get in, and there was a line to check out. I honestly wanted to grab what I came for and get out of Dodge without catching any germs.

I’ve always been friendly to people I see along the way but in a subtle way. I make eye contact and smile, but I generally don’t engage in conversation or anything extroverted. One of the drawbacks of wearing a mask is that people can’t see me smile at them. I complained to a friend about that, and she, being the extreme extrovert, said, “Just say HI!” in her jolly loud genuineness. That wasn’t going to work for me, but you know, the mask does give you confidence. I found myself waving at people as my greeting of choice now. You know what? They wave back!

Wearing a mask, especially a pretty Bird of Paradise one or a beautiful purple one, isn’t so bad. If it serves the purpose, then let’s Mask Up! 💜

A Moment in My Life – Tuesday, August 18, 2020

Have you ever noticed people’s true colors come out when the elephant is in the room? Nobody ever wants to say anything. They’re way too polite. Nobody wants to be the bearer of bad news, even if it’s just a single misplaced article. People are funny in that way. They avoid confrontation with a ten-foot pole. Hey, that’s perfect for social distancing! True. Not for all things, though.

I must admit that I, too, avoid the elephant in the room. Not intentionally. I swear! At last, I do. I do it like the best of them. In fact, over the years, I’ve gotten quite good at it. I laugh when someone apologizes because spell check replaced their word with some far-fetched one. Only then, when they brought it to my attention, did I see the typo. Old habits of avoiding the elephant, I naturally filled in the intended word, and I got the gist of their message. That’s ideal for social media chats. Saves a lot of time, usually, not always. I know that sometimes it might create misunderstandings or other problems, but basically, it’s okay, and there is no need to make a thing out of it.

The other day, I typed “Aiya” in a text. Spell check decided it should be “Aiyanas,” which my sister googled and provided us with a fun fact for the day, ‘Aiyanas is a Native American name meaning blossoming or eternal flame.’ In this case, the elephant taught us a new word, a beautiful word that I look forward to using one day.

When it comes to the written word on a page, that’s the elephant that I refer to that brings out people’s true colors. I reread my work over and over and edit it until the walls scream “ENOUGH already!” Even then, when I proofread and become satisfied that I caught every little typo from removing or adding a comma to adding a missing word, correcting a wrong word or a misspelled word that sounds the same, or replacing with a better word—somehow, after I’ve posted my work, there it was—the typo gremlin baring its teeth laughing at me. By then, who knows how many people read my work with the imperfection on it? Usually, for whatever reason, nobody points it out. They probably do the same thing I do and mentally make the corrections as they read. I’m grateful for that, but sometimes, it might be helpful if someone alerted me so I could make the corrections. 

I remember the publisher of my first novel pointed out that I used ear bugs instead of earbuds throughout my book, and that was a good catch and a welcomed one. I laughed when I read that correction because I didn’t see it. My first readers didn’t see it either. For something important, people should point out errors without concern for fear of hurting their feelings.

Although, here’s where I have to say, “Be careful what you wish for” because after Mark’s Celebration of Life, I had printed out personalized thank you cards with a typo on it. I sent out over fifty cards, and people politely accepted them and mentally filled in the correction as they read, or they were too polite to say anything. The last person I sent the card to was the one who avoided the elephant and emailed me. She said, “I may be mistaken, but last time I checked, the word prosper is written p-r-o-s-p-e-r and not proper.” That was one time where I would have preferred, not knowing. I felt awful, but what could I do? Not a darn thing! Except now, I was aware all those cards went out with a typo. 

Bottom line, we have to pick our battles and exercise wisdom on knowing when to address the elephant in the room, and when not to.

_____

Note to my readers: I want to thank the first five guests who read one of my columns by giving them a gift. If you are one of the early five readers, please leave me a comment below, so I will know who you are. We’ll private message and get your gift to you. Thanks for your support! 💜

A Moment in My Life – Monday, August 17, 2020

The sun cast a crisp candescent softness on the trees and the knoll that felt vaguely familiar. I walked up to the window and took it all in, and the familiarity occurred to me. The momentous time I remember a golden sunlit morning like this one was the morning of 9/11 when I woke to the sun casting a Victorian hue that I had never seen before. I hadn’t turned on the news yet, but my gut told me that something wasn’t right. At the same time, the sun was unique and breathtaking. For a moment, I imagined myself walking along a tree-lined street at the turn of the century when the earth was fresh before it became overcrowded, cluttered, polluted, and when life was simpler.

Today, we have the rare tropical heatwave to thank for this golden sun that’s beautiful yet temperamental. Yesterday morning, I lucked out, snapping a photo of the gorgeous sunrise minutes before it faded behind the grey skies unexpectedly, considering how beautiful the sunrise was. Then, it all made sense as I remembered that I woke to an alert on my phone to expect thunderstorms by 8 a.m. Thunderstorms in August! In the bay area! Why not? We are having a heatwave in August, so why not get the full experience of a tropical thunderstorm to go with it?

I waited for the thunderstorm to materialize, but all I got was the ominous grey clouds like someone waiting for a sneeze. By noon, I gave up waiting and ran my errands. The temperature on my car’s display read 72’, but even without winds, it felt more like 65’, at best, sans the sun. I felt a hint of mugginess once I stepped out of my car. I was getting the full tropical experience, that’s for sure. I went into Safeway and did my shopping. 

Just as I exited the store, the show began with a boom of thunder that broke the bank, and large beads of rain darted for the earth. I toyed with staying sheltered until the rain slowed or stopped, but I could be standing there for a long time. I decided to make a dash for it with the other patrons who had the same idea. We sprinted to our cars, pushing our carts ahead of us as lightning blazed above. I should’ve worn my hoodie, but instead of fretting, I found myself laughing at the joy of being in the thunderstorm and experiencing it up close and personal. Wow! That was fun! I was sopping wet with nothing to dry my wet arms and legs, with my clothes stuck to my skin, but I didn’t care. I sat in my car, laughing while the thunder roared above as if it were laughing, too. 

With the uniqueness of this weather, it’s no surprise that some drivers may not know what to do when they encounter it. I sat behind a car at the red light on Westborough, where the 280 N and S off and on-ramps were, respectively, when there was a spark on the signal light post, and the signal lights went dark. No cars were coming off the freeway, but neither of the two vehicles in the first spots moved until someone honked. I guess they were either in shock or didn’t know that if the signal light is out, we treat the intersection as a four-way stop. I chuckled and wonder how long we would have sat there had someone not honked. I didn’t think to honk because I was too busy questioning myself if the signal light had just gone dark or had it been dark all along, and I didn’t notice. It happened so fast.

That was it—just a flicker that was long enough for me to experience the joy of a thunderstorm where I found myself laughing in the rain, which never happens since I’m not a  fan of rain.

A Moment in My Life – Friday, August 14, 2020

I was at Costco picking up a couple of essentials the other day. It surprised me there were so many shoppers in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday. Except for the masks on everybody’s face, it was life as usual. No offenders were refusing to wear a mask like on the news. People in my neck of the woods are well behaved and decent people. Thank God for that! There were no lines to enter the warehouse—no more maze taking over a section of the parking lot. People were social distancing at the checkout lines, but throughout the warehouse, it was business as always.

The warehouse was once again well stocked. The paper aisle has a wall of paper products of each kind with no restrictions on any of their items. No attendant was standing behind a yellow caution tape rationing out the packs of toilet paper and paper towels like they did a couple of months back. 

Before SiP began, I felt ill-at-ease in my gut with the forming of Covid-19 and thought I’d better stock up, just a little, and I didn’t go crazy like many people who suddenly became hoarders. It was a great idea to buy a toilet paper pack when I did because soon afterward, toilet paper became a commodity. Back in May, I hadn’t run out of toilet paper yet, but I figured with the scarcity of supplies that when Costco restocked the next time, I should buy another pack just in case. Especially since the last two times, I was at Costco; they had zilch. I mean, they were emptied—they didn’t even have a paper aisle in the warehouse at all! Panic swept through me. I was on a mission now to stock up more than ever. 

A few weeks later, I went to Costco to gas up my car, and I figured if no lines were going into the warehouse, I’d go in to walk around and shop around. I haven’t been there in a while. To my surprise, there was no line! As I meandered around the warehouse, I saw a pack of toilet paper in a shopper’s cart, and that reminded me about my plan to stock up. I raced over like a madwoman and said, “Excuse me, where did you find the toilet paper?” He pointed me to the back. I thanked him as I raced off weaving through shoppers, making my way towards the direction he pointed. I didn’t want them to run out before I got a pack. I found the toilet paper at the back of the warehouse behind a yellow caution tape guarded by a clerk standing next to the pallet of Kirkland toilet paper, and a pallet of Bounty paper towels. On this side of the caution tape was a mob of people with carts jamming towards the supply. Later, another clerk came out and forced the crowd into a single file line, clearing the path for other patrons to pass. I filed into this line and waited my turn to advance up to the caution tape. 

This was my first time, as I’m sure it was for many people in this time period, where we experienced the rationing of goods. Most of us wouldn’t have dreamed that we would be living like this in our lifetime, but here we were lining up for a pack of toilet paper. I watched and listened as those before me approached the caution tape. The guard offered each customer either one pack of toilet paper or one pack of paper towels, or both. I didn’t need paper towels, not that many rolls at least, but since we are being rationed, I decided to take one of each. Who knows what would happen tomorrow? Who knows if supplies would become even scarcer than it was? 

As it turned out, weeks later, I was at the same Costco and was surprised to see pallets of toilet paper stored throughout the warehouse. There were small pallets of toilet paper stored on many aisles such as the frozen aisle, the beverage aisle, and at the center back open area of the warehouse. When I arrived at the paper aisle, there wasn’t a wall of paper products, but instead, there was a mountain of paper products. What a sight for sore eyes? I told everybody I could think of, and a couple of days later, a friend told me that she was at the same Costco, but they were, once again, out of stock! By the end of the same week, another friend announced that Costco was well-stocked again. You never know in this climate.

I’m glad that even though we’re still in SiP with necessary social distancing and mask donning requirements, it’s great that the rationing experience was short-lived. Would you have believed that this is how we’d be living if someone told you this a year ago? I wouldn’t believe it had I not seen it for myself.

A Moment in My Life –Thursday, August 13, 2020

For the last few days, I have been craving something but have no idea what. I wanted something different and flavorful. Preferably healthy. I’ve been throwing meals together using what I have in my fridge, freezer, and pantry. Once SiP happened, like most people, I began stocking up on staples, and now I’m trying to use up as much of my stock as I could. Since my refrigerator fix, I’ve been enjoying a sparsely packed fridge and freezer. I plan to maintain it this way. With that said, I try not to overbuy groceries. I buy just a few items each week and try using everything up before I replenish my groceries. That is a doable plan; however, it requires that I eat the same foods for days until I deplete what I have. You probably know what I’m going to say next, and you’re right. I got plenty tired of eating the same old, same old.

Now you know why I’ve got this craving. My takeout options are limited due to availability and to my heart-friendly diet. I wish Mark were here to brainstorm on what we wanted. You’d think that being my own person gave me more freedom to decide what to eat, but it doesn’t make it easier. Having someone to banter ideas back and forth, even if that meant a compromise, would be better—more ideas available to choose. 

I was unable to arrive at a decision, so I planned to see what was on my errand running route that I could swing by at. The first order of business was Trader Joe’s in SSF for flowers en route to the cemetery where I would drop off the flowers at my mother’s grave for her birthday the next day. Ideally, it would have been nice to know where I wanted food from and place an order ahead, then, after my errand run; I could swing by and pick up my food on my way home for lunch. I thought of a King Arthur from Round Table Pizza, but it was too much of a hassle to place the order, besides that’s not what I should be eating. 

What I craved were chow mein noodles. Maybe I’d head over to Panda Express at Tanforan for a quick pickup, but that was out of my way. I suddenly remembered Andy’s Café, which was perfectly on the way. I headed there after Trader Joe’s to place my order before continuing up Hickey to the cemetery. That plan failed when I found a darkened storefront and a sign saying they are closed on Tuesdays. Rats. So much for that perfect plan. I guess I will jump on the freeway and go to Panda Express anyway. 

After my cemetery visit, I headed to Tanforan. Since the mall is closed again, I knew my best bet was to park near the food court, but it didn’t look right when I drove over there—too few cars. People were loitering outside the entrance. The lights were on inside, too. That was a good sign. I parked and followed the signs on the glass doors, making it to the opened door. When I arrived at the door that appeared open with the security guy on the other side, I yanked on it, but it wouldn’t open. The security guy was doing some dance with his hands, but I didn’t understand his wiggling fingers. He finally opened the door and told me that everything was closed. Oh, okay, I figured that the food court would remain opened for takeout only, but I was wrong.

By this time, it was 2:30, and I was famished and needed nourishment before I passed out. What are my quick options? I racked my brain. I finally decided sashimi always works. Lucky’s was close by, and that’s how I resolved my craving for something different and flavorful, yet staying within my heart-friendly diet preference. 

A Moment in My Life – Wednesday, August 12, 2020

After three weeks of lost access to Word and Excel, I finally got the help I needed. I had one more month before my annual Office 365 subscription expired, but I was so fed up with Office 365 that I didn’t want to waste another second using it. 

After my Office Home & Student 2019 software arrived, I installed it and began using it immediately. I was in control of Word and Excel again! Yay! Until one day, when that ugly pestering banner appeared at the top of my Word doc and on my Excel spreadsheet, reminding me that my Office 365 subscription was about to expire and for me to renew. I could ‘X’ it closed, but every time I opened the app, the banner would reappear. I tweaked around and managed to get rid of that banner, so I thought. Office 365 continued to be a pain like the Hotel California, where you could check out any time, but you could never leave. After I did my Mac OS upgrade, that nasty banner reappeared everywhere! It’s like the temp from hell, who you can’t get rid of. This time, in my attempt to rid of it, I was not so fortunate. I have no idea what I did, but suddenly, my Word and Excel functionality greyed out on me. There was no resolution in sight, regardless of where I looked or what I attempted to do. I Googled and learned that many, and I mean many, users experienced the same situation I was experiencing. Alas, their solutions didn’t work for me, as it was often in the Mac world where it didn’t work.

I surfed around Microsoft’s website, hoping for a ‘Live Chat’ option but found none. At one point, I found a ‘Contact Us’ and clicked on it. It was an email to Microsoft, which got me a case #. I was elated and waited on pins and needles for a tech to respond. It turned out I could’ve walked to China and back and wouldn’t have missed their response. Five days later, I finally got an email that dumped the responsibility back on to my lap, saying that they hadn’t heard from me and if my problem was resolved to let them know so that they could close the case. I immediately emailed them back that this was the first response I received for this case, and yes, I still need help. I had to follow up with them again two days later, but I have not heard a peep back to date.

This week, I made it my priority to try reaching someone from Microsoft to get my case rolling. I lucked out and found a phone # (800) 642-7676, where I drilled down the automated system and got a live person who, unfortunately, couldn’t help me with my kind of problem, but she would transfer me to the team who could. Yes! There was little lag time before Jessa Trina picked up my call and began the mending process.

It turned out calling them was my only solution as Jessa spent an hour and ten minutes working on resolving this one teeny tiny little problem that stemmed from Office 365 not letting me go. The problem was, usually, once you install a standalone Office package, the new license trumps the old license and replaces everything in your hard drive wiping out Office 365 from memory. That’s how it’s technically supposed to work. In my case, it probably was because I installed the new software before Office 365 expired. However, from the online community complaints about the same problem, I was having, and because Jessa said this was a common problem that she services, I feel it’s more a quality control issue with Microsoft than anything else. 

What began as an easy fix, required Jessa three attempts to delete both the Office 365 and the 2019 licenses, uninstalling both apps, and finally reinstalling my 2019 software before Office 365 finally released hold of my hard drive. I was so glad that Jessa shared my screen and did all those tasks while I was watching instead of having me be her hands while she talked me through the process. She had to search my file manager to locate where my 2019 was installed. She asked me, but did I have a clue? No. When I did the install, I followed the instructions on the box, and voila, done. Did I bother to figure out where it was installed? No. I don’t see why that would have dawned on me to check that. Isn’t that why the tech folks get paid the big bucks?

That tech call was free but was worth every penny had I paid for it. Jessa fixed my problem and answered all my questions that I had about the Microsoft world in general. I learned how Microsoft works. I always thought I had to use my Hotmail whenever using Microsoft products. Don’t ask me why I thought that. My pea brain told me to do that from the start, so I did. I regret it because that email’s not my primary account anymore, but now all of my Office documents are tied to that email. Jessa said if I were still an Office 365 subscriber, she could transfer all of my files to another email address; however, since I signed up for my 2019 software with Hotmail, the license is linked to that email address and cannot be changed or transferred. I wish they had a disclaimer or footnote alerting us on stuff like this. Considering my dilemma, she didn’t recommend that I change my email at all, else I wouldn’t be able to sync my files between OneDrive and my 2019 apps.  

I’ve been pulling out my hair whenever I had to change my password regarding Microsoft, and thanks to Jessa, now I understand why. I never knew that if I changed my Hotmail password, it would automatically change my OneDrive password and vice versa. All products in the Microsoft suite included the auto-password change—Word, Excel, Outlook, PowerPoint, OneDrive. OneNote, and Skype. However, adding to my confusion, it turns out that my OneNote was excluded from this license because it was the free version that I’ve been using from day one; therefore, it had a separate password. Did I lose you now? 

When Jessa said she had to delete my Office apps from my hard drive and she drilled down all the apps, Word, Excel, PowerPoint, and Outlook. When she mentioned Outlook, I freaked because I didn’t want her messing with my Outlook since deleting the app sounded like I’d have to recreate all my email accounts afterward. She was very thorough. I lucked out with this exceptional tech. She looked at my Outlook and told me that what I thought was Outlook was not the Microsoft Outlook but rather the Mac mail system Outlook. Oh, okay, nice to know. All this time, I thought that Outlook was Outlook. I had no idea there was more than one.

I didn’t renew my Office 365 subscription because that meant Word and Excel were online. I could open a document to my desktop and work there; however, it saves to OneDrive online. If I didn’t have internet, I had no access to any of my files or to use Word or Excel. So much for going to a coffee shop and opening Word to write. That was how I quickly realized the problem with Office 365 and that it wasn’t going to work me. There were other complaints, but that’s neither here nor there.

When I told Jessa this, she explained that I could access my OneDrive files without internet access if I docked OneDrive to my desktop, which she did for me. She showed me how I could easily download my files to my hard drive via the right-click option to ‘Always Keep on this Device.’ If I change my mind, I right-click and choose the ‘Free Up Space’ option, and the files return to the cloud in OneDrive. 

After I hung up and looked at myself in the mirror, my eyes were bloodshot, and my face was flushed, which was the result of the hour-long data dump into my pea brain. It was time well spent, and I am forever richer in knowledge because of Jessa, my Microsoft tech hero.