Labor Not of Love

Today was a day of revelations and acceptance. I had a meeting with an old friends of mine who also happens to be my boss. The meeting was about past occurrences at work that effected my growth with the company. She pointed out a few things to me in which she explained left a negative "perception" on my work ethics. Some I can identify with and some I had no idea. But this conversation was just more than a Supervisor/Employee it was a marriage of that and friendship too. I stand corrected in some cases. I took this time to look at everything and dissect and digest all of her words. She mentioned that I am soo much better than the people I work with but I am confused as to know then why does their opinion of me weigh so heavy on her. She mentioned that I never had to work for anything I and told her she was wrong, obviously she didn't know me as well as she thought and so what if I didn't because I turned out just as good as she did (if not better). I have com to the conclusion that no matter what folks think of you it will never be what they should think of you. I work for God. I need to know what He thinks of me. But what I think is that there are people in this world who loves me just the way I am. I know my calling is not in corporate America and I will have to earn my living outside of that. I know that I will have to work for myself.

RSVP

I don't invite others here because this belongs to me. This is something I consider to be my sabbatical so company is not welcomed here.


Today I heard from someone who I consider to be a friend. This person took the time to call me and share their thoughts on my past blogging expressions. Their analysis of my "dirty laundry" was accurate .....to a degree. They think I am crazy and overall funny and I have to agree; in retrospect the shit is...funny, with a hint of touched. I am just elated that I am in a place at this very moment where I can concur. Right now I think it's funny, but where was the humor in that shit when I was going through it.


That's the story of my life! Come to think of it, that's the story of everyone's life, some more than others. I am grateful for the thoughts of friends. I don't have many of them and although I am an open and honest person I won't share unless prompted. Usually the thought of others don't weigh heavily on me but my friends thoughts I'll consider.


You don't get to choose who will be a good friend to you; you just get to choose who won't. So this person was invited here, not to judge but to learn and utilize. So because I gave this gift in honesty, honesty is what I expect in return...but only when I ask for it.


So, thank you in advance for your RSVP.

Here

How? How? How did I get here? How did I get to this place.

This place where I am just as hard and cold in the inside as I am on the outside. I am in this place where I am lost....completely gone. Displaced from everything sane and right at the beginning of everywhere and in the middle of nowhere. How did I get here?

Low....Low, Low, so low I could crawl under a snake with a top hat on......Fuck it. Not that low! But I sure feel that way.

I have no answers, no clue, no SOS and no Fucking relief! They were gone but I think they made their way back. That's right.. the tears. They are have arrived. Uncontrollably and without cease they are here.

It takes skills to have a poker face and that's the one skill I wish I acquired right now. Why? Because I have to listen to this muthafucker behind my desk flip out loudly about shit that I could give a rats ass about and listen to that cell phone ring that's set to SCREAM with an unidentifialbe ring tone. Why? Because I have to smile when I say How can I help you to strange faces when I need help my damn self. Why? Because this asshole needs to take her menopausal frustrations out on me when work is kicking her ass and I have to look at that fucked up hairdo or cocked to the side wig of hers. Why? Because I can't go into my office and close the door.

I am sick through no doing of my own. I am sick because I chose to love someone. I am sick of being sick in my head and in my stomach. I am ANGRY, PISSED, HURT, AND FUCKED UP right now at this very moment. I wanted to record this pain so I will remember it when I get out of it. I wanted to remember what He brought me from.

Butterfly

Just a quick vacation....

Put the Pickle Jar Back Please Ma'am

It's amazing how someone can at will and word cause bodily harm to someone else and be glad to do so.

In case you were thinking it's me (well ok.. yes that can be me too, but I wasn't talking about me this time) I was speaking of my parents. Yep, my poor little, sweet, innocent parents. Who would have thought for one second they could hurt somebody and with strategic contemplation and planning. HA!!!! Well anybody who knows my parents knows they could.

I mean....are parents supposed to be this way?......especially over their GROWN children?

I recently had another bout with my husband over a re-occurring issue that I don't think he and I will EVAH.....I mean NEEEVAHHHHHH agree on (unless one day I loose my damn mind or grow a sausage for a head). So of course we argued and I got upset.

Well, for those who don't know, my husband is allergic to pickles/cucumbers. Out of need to vent, I told my parents what angered me. Right or wrong there they go.......they are ready to pull out a jar full of pickles! And I can hear it in their voices like, yes! This is the one! We finally get to do it! They keep a jar of pickles on hand in the pantry. I mean they literally wait for the que! They wait for the day to make a "special salad"!

The good thing is neither one of us can take the other being upset for very long, so we let our guards down and forgive. Pretty soon there's a peace offering (mostly done by him) and our lives continue back to normal.

I guess it's great to know I have folks in my corner and I love my parents for that! They bring soo much humor to my life.

Disappointed they'll be, but for now, I will have to say "False Alarm!...It's ok! Put the pickle jar back in the pantry!"

Hospice, for the Dying or Living?

Recently my husband went home to visit his father whose recently been inducted into hospice care. Needless to say, we are playing out the waiting game. Well, I understand the game all so well from my husband's point of view having been a player myself for someone who was dear to me too. Now I find myself a player in the same game but with a different set of rules.


I know all of the emotions he is and will have to feel before the "getting over it" begins, the missing some one's presence, and yes... even resentment begins, the closure, the relief and the forgiveness. I know all of it because it never goes away. You never think about it until it happens. It's never there until you experience losing someone close to you. Once it's there....it's there forever. It's not something you come back from.


Since being on that side of the coin, I've learned to cope but we are both about to embark in something new and different. I have been knowing this man for more than ten years. I have been introduced to every member of his personality with the exception of this new one. I can't give it a name or tell you anything about it yet because, remember?... I'm playing a waiting game. As a man he's never lost anyone close to him, his sister died when he was a small child way before he can process and understand what death really is. I have no idea as to how he will respond when it happens. You know people mourn in different ways. All I know is that I will be there for him like he was for me. I guess I expected him to be a mind reader and know how to comfort me (even when I didn't), but he did the best he could. I can only hope that in my turn, it's more than adequate.


If there is one word that would define playing the waiting game, I guess Hospice would be that word considering we all are players.

Not A Good Week by Errol Hughes, Jr.

This week is soooo long and it's only Tuesday. I just keep getting "N's". My parents just keep getting more and more angry. It's kind of hard being good in school, if you know what I mean. And....what I mean is, if you are a bad kid, it's hard to be good and if you are a good kid, it's hard to be bad as we all know.

I just keep getting "F's in Math and Science. Face it, I'm just a bad kid for now. For instance, in Social Studies, this kids was reading a book moaning and groaning and I just screamed SHUT UP!!!! Literally he talks too much.

Today I had a test and scored an 87. Well that's not too bad but a few minutes later the teacher rechecked my work and told me that the first grade was a mistake. It really should have been a 78. My dad is really going to give it to me now!!

Well, I guess I have 3 days to get it straight. That's all for now.