It's hard to believe this is our last Friday installment. I will provide a year ending piece next Wednesday and perhaps a bonus piece next Friday regarding my first cafeteria management training session.

I've been told it will include valuable lessons like conflict management and a personality test. I hope I dont find out I have no personality.

This week I learned...

Returning after a georgeous holiday weekend pretty much sucks. I was sunburned and tired and Tuesday sucker punched me.

Lunch money vs. cheese sandwich. On sucker punch Tuesday it looked like cheese sandwich was winning...but after falling behind lunch money made a comeback. Somewhere out there a lunchlady is feeding a kid who's parent decided lunch was no longer necessary the last week of school. Do her a favor and make sure your kid has money or send some with a kid you know doesn't.

Cook's choice and random sandwiches. As predictable as the back to school sale is at Walmart, so is the end of the year Cook's choice menu option. Personally, I'd like to see it called Totally Random Chicken Chunk Tuesday or Feed Me What's in the Freezer Friday.

Careful what you ask. Dr. Principal said to a student after a long absence "It's good to see you. Are you feeling better now?" His reply, "Yep, I had really bad diarrhea!"

Better than no one. My dad once told me that it's important to remember that you are better than no one and no one is better than you. I'm gonna let you in on a secret (whispering) it was never a dream of mine to work in the cafeteria. Believe it or not, for a short period in my life I wanted to be an eye doctor. Soon I realized I wasn't really wired that way. Totally a left brain profession and I am clearly right brained. Journalism seemed like a better choice but somewhere along the way I took a detour. I've come full circle from food service, to maid, to legal secretary, to mom and back to food service. In the midst of all of that I have written for many magazines, I've written regularly for the newspaper, I have kept a blog for five years and I have completed two books that I hope to someday get published. I still believe that I am better than no one and no one is better than me yet this week twice I felt like I was looked down upon because I do dishes for a living.

Trust me, I do a lot more than dishes.

What did you learn this week?

Today I stepped out of the cafeteria and headed to a science center with a bunch of second graders, including my son.

Here's what I learned.

I was listening to my girls cackle on and on tonight about cute boys, swimming, camp and other random items instead of going to sleep.

The total randomness of their conversation reminded me of all the things I miss about sharing a room with my sister.

Bunk Beds. We had tons of adventures that involved throwing each other off the top bunks and building cabins by drapping blankets from the top bunk down. One time we reenacted a scene from Days of Our Lives and another time we pretended to have our own apartment.

Built in bodyguard. If I heard a noise or if she did, were close enough to save each other. I still remember how I held her hand the night our attic was on fire and our mom was trying to calmly lead us outside. I told myself I was protecting her but I am certain I would have cried if she let go.

Someone nearby when you feel _____. Sad, sick, lonely, terrified, confused... You name it, there was always someone nearby. I had the chickenpox over Christmas vacation when I was in the second grade. I almost died. They were in my throat, in my eyelids and in my mouth. I have never been so miserable. My sister slept beside me. She got the pox, but not nearly as bad.

Laughter. I'm a strong believer in laughter, it builds you up when you feel down. It makes you feel complete. Over the years My sister and I have shared a lot of laughs together. Most recently we shared a room together at the beach and even though she values sleep more than just about anything, when I woke her up in the middle of the night because I was convinced someone was in the shower, she graciously checked and then we laughed for hours about it.

Secrets. Someone to share your secret crushes, your secret failures, your secret goals.

My girls fight alot but at night they become different little creatures. They giggle and read together. They talk endlessly about whatever, but yet they claim they want seperate rooms.

My husband thinks they should have them.

I really don't think they need them. They share a HUGE room.

When it isn't a school night, my son sleeps in there too. Sometimes cuddled up beside his oldest sister in her bed and other times just on the floor so they can all be closed to each other. He has his own room and doesn't really want it.

Someday they might all live multiple states away from each other and long to share a few laughs late into the night.

Did you share a room or have your own, what are the pros and cons?

Yesterday I had an 'aha' moment while reading this post about ADD.

Gina summed up my life in 300 words or less.

Apparently, my co-workers have noticed my disorganization, my forgetfulness. Lord knows I've notice my inability to keep focused and see a task through to completion. My hubby probably thinks I intentionally ignore his requests.

I just figured that was how I was wired, but maybe it's more.

Sometimes staying focused and concentrating on one task is incredibly hard for me. I, often, find myself reading three or more books at the same time and seldom completing any of them.

My hubby talks to me when he is another room and I have trouble listening. He is relaying important information but all I can hear is the TV. However, if he would ask me to make something--a craft, a scrapbook, a bulletin board--I wouldn't rest until it was accomplished.

Also a common symptom of adult ADD/ADHD is apparently disorganization and forgetfulness. I write notes to myself about everything. EVERYTHING. And sometimes I still forget.

This is a picture of my craft room/office AFTER I've cleaned it up. I spend countless amounts of time just looking for things. My shoes. My notebook. A pen. I misplace everything. Nothing I own has it's own place and even if it did I would have trouble putting it back.

Staying organized and on top of things can be extremely difficult for me and may explain the sheer amount of panic I am feeling at having to remember and be responsible for all the food ordering next year in the cafeteria.

I often interrupt. I know I do it and I try very hard not to. Often times I am saying in my head, "wait your turn...wait your turn" only to drowned out what the other person is saying and then appear to not be paying attention.

When I was in school I had this teacher who would call us by our last name and when he did you were expected to repeat his last word. I could never do it. Even when I knew he would call on me, I could never do it.

Turns out, I might have a reason for it after all.

Eight years ago this month my friend, Don, passed away.

He was so many things.

He was a lawyer and my boss.

He was a fan of all kinds of music.

He was funny.

He was honest, and

He was gay.

I worked with him for nearly four years and he never once tried to make me gay.

He did however help me organize and carry out an intervention with his law partner about her drinking problem. It was emotional and difficult but when it became clear that I was practicing law and she no longer was we knew we had to do something.

Difficult isn't really a strong enough word to describe that afternoon.

He let me cry on his shoulder.

When a somewhat violent ex-husband of one of our clients came in causing quite the stir, Don was quick to intervene and put himself in between me and any danger I might have been in.

When I was leaving his law firm for greener pastures in another state, he gave me a recommendation that could have landed me a job in any courthouse in any state.

The things I will always remember about him include his goofy laugh, the way he would encourage me to put love stamps on the envelopes of all the divorce papers, the kindness he showed to everyone, and the genuine concern he had for even the smallest of someones problems.

I also will never forget that his partner, the love of his life, was not allowed access to him after he suffered a massive heart attack at the age of 42. I will always remember that because his "spouse" was male, Don died alone.

I will always remember the anguish in his best friend's voice when he called me to tell me of Don's passing. I will always feel robbed that he never met my son.

Would things be different today?

Sadly, they would not.

I miss you, my friend, and I continue to believe you deserved better.