Know When to Hold Em’

There are some aspects of life in which you feel you’ve mastered what you need to and getting better is not necessarily a priority, nor need it be, unless you suck and no one is telling you. For example, driving a car. If you’re decent at driving a car, and you can navigate without too many fender benders, tire squeals, horn honkers, and road blocks, you’re good to go! You don’t need to constantly study the latest “How to” guide teaching you how to more efficiently press the gas, more gracefully turn the wheel, or more presumably run red lights. A steady pace is all you need to cruise.

Take another example, cooking. If you’re a decent cook, and the folks like what you make, you like to eat your own concoctions, and no one is hiding with a napkin under the table and ducking their head every few moments to spit into it, it’s a cake walk from here on out! Sure, add to your repertoire by adding new recipes here and there, or blowing your own mind, and taste buds too. But you don’t have to go grab a copy of Martha Stewarts, “How to Make Prison Porridge and Inmate Gruel”, you can kinda sit, back, relax and enjoy your own dinner show. Ham Mock

Then, there are areas in our lives which feel as though the task of learning is never through. At work, in our relationships, areas of particular and specific knowledge, with our own bodies and minds. Some people might have it easier than others in any given area, and these things come in waves. Waves when it’s OBVIOUS you need to up the learning curve, and waves when you’re getting straight A’s and you can let someone else in the class do the talking for a while.

I can tell you right now. I wish these things were as easy as raising my hand in college and impressing my professor. I wish it were as easy as the flashcards I made after thorough highlation (new word) of my Communications book, and I wish it was as simple as writing a ten-page paper, while pulling an all nighter and binge drinking on a Thursday. But, fact of the matter is. It’s just not. Relax

I’m learning more and more. Coasting is not really an option. When you try to sail, sometimes you are just faced with tumultuous seas and choppy ocean. It’s almost always work. There are occasions when the work is painless, effortless, and enjoyable. Like riding a bike, a rich payoff for a minor burning of the quads. And then there are moments when you’re so overcome with worry, anxiety, fear, anger, or any number of emotions that you nearly throw your cellphone into the lake. Fortunately, you realize your irrationality in time and pickpocket a fellow joggers new iPhone 5 before throwing your own into the murky abyss.

Not like you need a phone anyway.

C’est la vie. Hello, inner angst.


Cry Baby

I have watery eyes. No, not allergies, no excess of eyelashes falling into my line of vision and causing me distress. I just cry a lot. I cry when my feelings get hurt, I cry when I do something wrong, I cry when I’m angry, I cry when I’m overwhelmed, and sometimes I just cry because I drank too much water. Broken

What I really cannot handle is when people are disappointed with me, or do not like me. I am not sure why this is but it’s been like this since I was very young. When kids made fun of me, or rejected me, I would snap like a mouse’s spine under the pressure of a deadly THWAP. Perhaps it’s because I lack confidence, or because I have this need to please everyone, but lately I’ve been struggling with trying so hard to please everyone, including myself, and coming up short. Why? Well, because I do things I don’t like –I drink coffee once in a while, I take bites of cookies when there are treats in the office, I make mistakes on my bosses’ calendars and have to run around and fix everything. I can’t always keep my bills straight. I can’t seem to get myself to the place a 27-year-old should be. And because of that, I tend to take things very deeply, and personally and excruciatingly painfully. Yesterday was one of those days.

The first incident occurred when a co-worker (who I’m pretty sure is not wild about me) dropped off a stack of papers for me to have my boss sign, as well as some other top dogs. I had her sign them, but I missed one of the lines which were not intended for her, and so I had to bring it back to the woman who had to reprint the page, and give it back to me to get it off and signed by the right person. You see? Even YOU got confused by all that! It was a confusing stack of papers, and I’m still feeling relatively new at times, I don’t know all the ins and outs, all the bundles and jumbles, and her attitude makes me flustered through and through because I can tell she hates my guts and would like nothing more than to run over me with her car. Combine that with the fact that I was stressing out about her papers in particular, because I wanted her to see me as a good little girl who did what I’m told, and did it perfectly. Because of the mistake and the whole experience, I just cried and cried and cried feeling like I had done a piss poor job and would never amount to anything. Unfortunately, someone caught me in the act and I had to explain myself later. The woman who saw me was a sweet, able secretary who used her years of wise experience to comfort me with her kind words. It helped.

That’s really all I want, is to be perfect. I just want to do things right. It’s not so much to ask, and mind you, it’s not a bad goal.
That is, unless you’re Amelia Bedelia and you fail left and right, right and left, front and center. I drop stuff, I break things, I leave a wake of destruction everywhere I go.  I think it’s because I was born illegitimately and it will forever haunt me. Once a life-destroying fetus, always a life-destroying fetus.

The second incident occurred at home. I’ve already mentioned that I break everything. Well, last night, I broke my 2nd wine glass, which is the 4th of all of the fine china and glasses  that I’ve broken of my boyfriend’s. These do not include the 6 fine pieces of serving /dinner ware I broke while living at my parents, and the multitude of glasses I broke in France, and the…..I’ll stop there, but you see what I’m saying?! At first, I laughed at my blunder because being a klutz is hysterical, right? Well….unfortunately, when I confessed my sin to the man in charge, he informed me that these glasses have sentimental value. He tried to brush it off as nothing, but I could tell they were important to him. I guess there is no replacing those……

Well, what other option does that leave me with? Time to cry. I cried and cried and cried. I told my boyfriend he should break up with me so I can stop destroying his life. I didn’t really know what else to do at that point, and in fact, I still don’t. It’s a good thing I dehydrated myself today or else I would likely be crying right now. 143

I just want to be at peace. With myself, with the world around me, and with my limbs.

Sometimes I feel I have to be loved and adored by everyone simply because I love and adore everyone. But I suppose, the most important person to be loved and adored by is yourself. It’s just a lesson that is ever so hard for me to learn. I think I’ll go balance my checkbook instead and worry about loving myself later.

Help Jim Sell His House!

So, I’m not quite sure what I think yet about the power of positive thoughts. I listen to audio books telling me how to bring all good things into my life –finances, love, nice clothing, happiness, friends, vacations, and health. A dreamer, a chaser, a plan-alterer when things aren’t going my way. I read books about making agreements with yourself, I try to analyze my mental psychobabble, practice namaste and fire up my qi, and blah, blah, blah. Perhaps it’s for the very reason that I am skeptical, that these things are not all at my fingertips right now. Instead, I’m a “make do with what you got” kinda girl. I am also the kind of person who believes that if I say, “I have holes in my sweaters.” I run the risk of finding one in my sweater tomorrow. Cautiously and yet, skeptically, I hold my skepticism to myself. After all, you can’t always believe EVEN yourself. 

Last month, while I was knee deep in my audio books on my way to and from work (hi ho hi ho hi ho) the reader, Rhonda Byrne was saying how the mind is the rudder for your life, the actions you take begin in the mind and furthermore, what harm can it do from thinking good thoughts even if nothing WERE to come of it. At the very least, you’ve fooled yourself into feeling better. What could a little human experiment hurt? I thought to myself, as I picked out my test subject. 

8:38AM Enter Stage Left: My boss. 

She was having trouble selling her house, despite having shown it several times. She mentioned this in passing and my advice was this, “Close your eyes and REALLY FEEL like what it would be like to have sold your house! Imagine it sold. Imagine who lives there. Don’t you LOVE the fact that you sold your house!?” She is such a great gal, and humored me by not only saying she would do it –she DID it! All weekend she did it. You want to know something? HillHouse

Her house was SOLD on Sunday night at an hour that one would think is jussssttt a bit too late to be calling your realtor! Not to late to hear the best news! Monday morning, I open my email inbox and find her message, “I love that I sold my house!” 

I of course, thought she was just repeating the mantra as instructed. I expected it to take much longer. But lo, and behold, it had worked! 

When people in the other cubicles heard the news, I got an instant promotion and they began dancing around me, clapping, bringing me gifts when I walked in each morning and offering their firstborn child as my personal laborers. Ok, so that never happened. But people DID come ask me what they had to do to sell their houses…..

So, that is how I’m in the predicament that I am in tonight. 

A matter of coincidence. Or perhaps a truly altered reality has me reassuring another colleague, Jim, that HE TOO can sell his house with the positive power of LOVE. 

I need a little help, from any and all readers. Can you repeat the mantra with me? “I love that Jim sold his house!” If you have extra time on your hands, do some imagining for me also.  This is easy business, and I know you all have medulla oblongotas and therefore, imaginations.

Just picture him handing over the keys once and for all, signing those papers with a big smile on his face. Picture him coming into work telling me his good news! And then picture me with that promotion and the firstborn children as my servants. Oh ya, and money tree topiaried (new word I just invented) into the shape of a hammock. 

I knew y’all would do me a favor!