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A new month for me at 100 words and this month will be a little different. An observation about women (or at least me) – I want to do everything, be everywhere, and disappoint no one. This causes me great guilt and anxiety. If I can't do everything, I don't want to do anything at all, and so I end up in a cycle of inertia – unable to move at all until I become a total couch potato eaten up by guilt and self-loathing. Why don't men have this problem? Is this what "Women's Lib" has brought us? I think so.
I have decided that I am like a butterfly – flitting from project to project as whim (and supplies) take me. I have lots of different things going, but I rarely finish anything. I have the best intentions, and I love the planning stages, but when it comes down to "put up or shut up", I tend to falter and abandon things left and right. I can't seem to stop myself, even when I know better. I disappoint people. I disappoint myself most of all. M., on the other hand, is a hard working bee. He doesn't get me at all.
I resolve to be more like a bee – to log hours instead of moaning about having too little time to finish things. I will try to use the time I have more effectively and to complete the things that I have started before moving on to the next great idea. I need to clean up the loose ends and then move forward. I see this as a kind of penance for my extravagant waste of time in the past, and a necessary step to put it all behind me. I have so many obligations to fulfill, but I have to.
Your silence hurts me. I know you said there would be no soul searching because it was too painful for me, but I also know that soul searching is what you want. Are my inner workings so fascinating for you? Why do you really want to know "the real me"? I'm not so very interesting. I'm really quite boring, with the baggage of childhood that won't be unloaded because I tell you. I don't want you to be my therapist or confessor. I want to be accepted for who I am, not who you want to discover me to be.
To S. - You are a pain in the ass. I am tired of your speeches about how I need to let things go. You lecture me one minute and then turn around and criticize the same people that annoy me the next. You are a hypocrite of the worst kind. They say that the reason we dislike people is because we see in them the things that we dislike the most in ourselves. If that is the case, we are almost the same person. That thought makes me shudder, even though there are things about you that I admire.
To M.J. – I don't think about you every day despite the fact that our son is growing up to look very much like you, but without freckles. Do I regret knowing you? Often. Do I regret our son? Never, even when he is pushing all of my buttons in an attempt to make my head explode. I doubt that I will ever see you again, and I can't say that I'm sorry about that. Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say. I'm doing my best to see that our son does not grow up to be anything like his father.
It makes me sick that most women are unhappy with the way they look, and that advertisers prey upon (and perpetuate) this insecurity. We all can't be Cindy Crawford, so why beat ourselves up about it? Do they realize that beauty trends come and go? If your hips are larger than your waist, you will be attractive to men. That's really it, nothing more. Men are simple creatures, and their ideals really never change. Does anyone wonder why those "supermodels" are all single? They are nice to look at, even to fuck. In the end, they're not "real woman" material.
To the guy in the big pick-up truck with the ATV in the back driving north on I-5 last night: Where are you in such a hurry to be? Do you realize that your erratic and obnoxious driving pisses people off, or is that your intention? People like you are a wreck waiting to happen, and I hate you. I guess I should be glad you weren't talking on a cell phone, but do you really think you're setting a good example for the little boy sitting next to you? I hope he survives his childhood despite his daddy's driving…
To the stupid neighbor girl who got a new horse: Honey, there is no way on earth that you will be riding that filly any time soon. She needs some professional help. I've seen her running around the field, and I hear that you can't catch her. She will soon be totally wild, and there is nothing you can do about it. Someone is going to get hurt, and I don't want to be the one to call 911 when she dumps you on your ass. You should have stayed with the bay gelding – at least he had a brain.
To H.: Thank you so much for being a human on Saturday. You were a joy to be around without the surly attitude and deadly looks. I had a great time talking to you and you were a big help around the house. Days like this make me proud that you are my son. When I went to sleep that night, it was with a sigh of pleasure - my son is turning out all right. Of course, Sunday was another day and Mr. Hyde was back. I love you but you make it hard to like you some days.
To S.E.: I've been told that the reason I don't like some people is because I see things in them that I don't like about myself. If that's the case, I must be white trash, and that thought pisses me off. While our lives are not all that similar, and we don't talk the same (you with your Southern accent, dripping with false sincerity), and I am more knowledgeable about my job than you, I still really don't like you. Not even a little bit. So what does that say about how I feel about myself? I don't see similarity.
To H.: I really doubt that I ruin your life on a daily basis. Being a Mom is hard enough without having to fight you every minute of the day over some trivial bullshit. Just do it and get it done and I'll leave you alone. No, I don't want you to hang out with your delinquent pal – he's a reform school student in training. If that makes me a horrible person, then I really don't care. I just hope that someday you will thank me. If you don't, I will console myself with having done the best I could.
To M. – I really wish there was something I could do to ease your pain. It tears me up to see you in constant pain and to know that there is nothing I can do. I know that it's a part of your life, and has been for years, but I still feel bad. My gripes seem petty, my pain so insignificant next to yours. I'm trying to maintain a sunnier disposition, to realize that being alive for one more day is what matters. Thank you so much for showing me just how much I have to be grateful for.
I am so glad that this week is finally over. I decided that I really have to get off the gerbil wheel that I'm on and figure out a way to make a living on my own. The regular paycheck is all that keeps me here. And the fear of failure, if I'm being honest. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Nothing ventured, nothing lost, either. With such a supportive man beside me, you'd think I'd be eager to cut ties with Corporate America, but still I hesitate. Shit or get off the pot, as Granny would say. This weekend, I decide.
It's just not practical for me to quit my job before I have something else lined up. If I had unlimited waking hours I could build my business on the side and just leave when things were looking up. As it is, I have to stay chained to my regular paycheck until I can support myself by another means. I just can't see a painless way out. M. won't wait forever, and the house in Sweet Home is calling to me. I actually thought about calling in sick so I could stay another day. I should have planned for that.
To Mel – Don't forward to me those survey-type e-mails. They piss me off. If you want to know something about my life, pick up a phone or send a note. I'll be happy to fill you in. Communication goes both ways. Those stupid lists of questions just show a lack of imagination on your part, and a lemming-like response to whatever stupid people you are hanging out with to display their lives like so many computer print-outs, all lined up in a row. Spare me, please. I have better things to do with my time – like TALK to my sister.
To M. – I dozed off on the couch last night, cups of tea on the table, expecting that you would be coming over, since you said that you'd see me later. I woke at 1:20 to a silent apartment and cold tea. No sign of you, not even a call to say that you were home safe. I hope you slept well. I am obviously failing Communication 101, and for that I'm sorry. I don't feel like calling to check up on you. I did get to see the last scene of Jaws, so it wasn't a totally wasted evening.
To J.: If you don't understand the job, don't ask S. And don't assume that she knows the job, either, because she has no clue. Bragging about never touching a computer before 1997 does not make anyone an expert in this field. Especially when that statement is made in an affected Southern drawl. Why you were chosen to be "head" of our little department is beyond me. If you had a clue, you would see to it that D. was put in charge – at least he understands the nuts-and-bolts of the programs that we spend 8 hours a day using.
I am sleepy today, and more than a little bored. I just want this week to be over so I can quit pasting a smile on my face and making inane conversation with people that I really don't give a fuck about. I have a million things that I'm working on while no one is looking, but none of them are yet ready to give me the financial freedom that I so crave. If there was another way for me to make a buck…When will my ship come in? Will I be at the train station when it does? Probably.
A quiet night at home. Iris. A soft, purring cat. A cup of hot tea. A plate of toast. JaCiva chocolate. A hot bubble bath. Scented candles. Freshly washed flannel sheets. Soft music. A good book. Solitude. Are these things too much to ask for? Not every day, but just once in awhile I would love to be able to do whatever I want to, with no one competing for my time. No chores or cleaning to be done, no one to demand food or attention. No deadlines or ringing phones. No surly teenager snarling at me. Just one day.
Friday AND payday. Does it get any better that this? A slow day at work, and my mind is numb. I'm staring at the clock, counting the minutes until I can escape into the rain soaked streets for a couple of precious days away from the office. I have things to do, but I know that I will ignore the chores in favor of some "me" time. I WILL get a nap this weekend. I WILL get caught up on my sleep. I will try to get outside and enjoy the beginning of Spring. Is anything better than the weekend?
Time seems to go by so quickly and there are so many things to be done. I really hate the way life has speeded up in the last few months, when all I want to do is take a nap and let it all pass me by. I long for a vacation or even just some time alone with only the sound of the wind to keep me company. I long for dreamless sleep, a chance to recharge my psychic batteries, to let my body catch up to my brain for a change. Is that too much to ask for?
The job market here is depressed, like much of the rest of the country. How can I make my dream of living in the country a reality when I can't find a job that will pay me enough to pay my bills and put food on the table? The house is there, room for the animals, space for the boy to run wild, and the only thing keeping me in the Big City is lack of employment. If I had the energy, I could work 3 jobs to make ends meet, but what kind of crappy life would that be?
To M. – Thank you so much for your patience. I don't know what I would ever do without you. It is so wonderful to finally have found a man who lets me be me, but not to excess. Your kindness and understanding are still a marvel to me, even after well over a year. I know that I still need to work on my communication skills, but I think that I've come a long way. Living with a man who never wanted to talk trained me to keep everything to myself, and I thank you for encouraging me to share.
I think that I will finally be allowed to have an independent thought today. Oh, it's not for certain yet, but it looks like at least one co-worker has decided that maybe I do have a brain in my head. That maybe I do have something to offer the company besides my CAD skills and an insane desire to outshine the hacks that I work with. What a refreshing idea! I work in a man's world and have to constantly prove myself, and it is exhausting. It will be nice to have some recognition for a change. I can think!
Why are people followers? Why is it so important to some people to be just like everyone else? I've never quite understood it, and now that I am an adult and I just don't give a fuck, it mystifies me. Why fit in? Why follow the herd? Why go through your life without questioning a single thing that society throws at you? Have we "dumbed-down" so much that people are no longer even experiencing individual thoughts? And does that bother anyone but me? I'm afraid to ask – all I get is a blank stare and advice to wax my brows.
I am a knitter. The fact that you probably aren't means that you don't "get" me. I don't really mind – most people don't. It doesn't bother me any more that people consider my "hobby" a waste of time. When I ask what they do, they always declare that they don't have time to have a hobby. Is sitting on your fat lard ass in front of the TV a hobby? You sure spend a lot of time there. Look, the cushion reflects the shape of your butt! At least when I'm knitting I'm creating something that is useful and lovely.
Last day of the month, and I am feeling very anxious. Do I give my apartment managers 30 days notice? I still haven't found a job near the new house, but do I take a chance? I won't get any unemployment because my current employer refuses to pay and is forcing me to quit – cheap bastards! If I don't get a job very quickly, I will not be able to pay my bills and will fall flat on my face. M. has already made a huge commitment, and I feel like I'm letting him down with my hesitation. Now what?
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