What Does This Photo Say To You?

This is a picture taken by a friend of mine while he was on vaycay.

He's gonna hit me now because that's way too cutsey-wootsey of a word for him. This is a test to see if he really reads my blog or not. And, yes, I have his permission to post it.

So what does the picture say to you? I'm not asking what's in the photo, but rather, what sort of feelings does it evoke (or is it invoke)?

Second Question - Do you like the photo? Do you not like it? Why? (Okay, so technically that was 3 questions, but they're all related)

PS Thanks Erick for the permission to post your photography...more to come - maybe.

What Are You Worth?

I've been at work for 11 hours today and have 2 or 3 more to go. We are working on critical issues that have continued to resurface on this project over the last 5 months, since we implemented it. We spend time on implementing solutions over several weeks only to be in the same spot a month or two later. We work nights and weekends. It makes me ask, "What am I worth"?

I know that I am worth one-fifth of forty dollars in pizza because that's what we ate for dinner and the big boss, who isn't here, offered to pay for dinner. I hope I don't lose the crinkled register receipt that is currently in my shirt pocket, otherwise, my worth will be diminished even more. I don't mind working late sometimes but it just makes me wonder....what's it all for? What is my worth? Have you asked yourself that question lately? What is a stay-at-home-mom's worth? How is it measured? In dirty diapers or toothless smiles?

I know my measure as a husband and as a father, but how is my worth measured as a business analyst? Do you wonder about these things? Should I? Or should I just get back to work so that I can go home sooner than later?

Our Own Mortality

I went to a funeral yesterday. It was to celebrate the life and acknowledge the passing of a lady I never met. She was the mom of a coworker, fellow blogger, and very good friend. The funeral was in Spanish, and by Spanish, I mean the real deal. Attendees that speak Spanish, a group that sadly I do not represent, commented afterwards that they too weren't sure what the priest had said because of his strong Galician accent.

I had gone with a few other coworkers straight from the office, we stayed only for the service, and then we headed back to the office. Anyone wanna guess what we talked about on the car ride both ways? Pssst. Hint: Look at the title for this post. We talked about how each of us wanted to be interred/disposed of. We also spoke of folks who work overtime (eh-hem) and save for retirement like crazy (eh-hem), with the general consensus being that it really sucks for people like that who meet an early demise. So, there is something for me to think about.

There is another positive side effect of attending a funeral like the one that we went to. I checked in with one of my coworkers today, and wouldn't you know that both of us called our moms last night?

I am sorry for my friend's loss. I am grateful for the needed awareness that the loss brought to others, me included.