A Question of Planning

One of my least favorite interview style questions to be asked is “Where do you see yourself in five years?” I hate that question. I hate any form of that question. I’m not great with decisions and I don’t tend to see things in black and white. I’m gray all the way, baby. So figuring out and actually saying where I will be in five years, six months, or however long is a touch distressing for me. I’ve always replied to that with “I don’t know, I’m not big on lists or plans like that.”
Or so I thought.
Then I started getting closer to twenty five. That’s a baby still to a lot of people out there, but it’s a big deal to me. Not a huge quarter life crisis or anything, but it made me realize that actually… I did have some plans. Annnnd they weren’t really happening. And I’m not really sure how I feel about that.
Here’s the deal. I want to be happily married and have kids. I have never felt any sort of rush or pressure for this sort of thing, I just always knew it was what I wanted. Great, dandy, I have plenty of time, right? Wellllllll, here’s where the plan comes in. I kinda thought I would be in the love of my life relationship at this point. Apparently the back of my mind, where all the plans are, thought I would be planning a wedding right about now. Only… I’m not.
I always thought I would get married, enjoy a few years as a married couple, and then have kids when things felt right. Worked for my parents! It’s a pretty good blue print for a happy life if you do it right. But I wanted to have kids around twenty eight. And I wanted to date my wonderful soul mate for a few years before we got married. You know, work out whatever kinks we could. Then have a few years of married life to work out whatever kinks pop up then. Finally, add kids. You see the issue? Kinda hard to shove all of this into just three years.  Especially since I was single when I started this post. (More on that later)  Doesn’t really work into this plan I didn’t know I had.
I feel stupid admitting all this. My life is pretty good right now. I’m only twenty five (nearly). I have a lot of freedom and time, a lot of paths open to me. But it feels really weird to see what I didn’t know I thought would happen slowly fading away as a possibility. It’s weird to realize I was a secret planner and only figure that out when a plan doesn’t come together.
So if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be over here, feeling a little embarrassed for how silly I sound, and mapping out my next plan. Which may or may not happen. But the journey better be really exciting.

It’s Not Always Gumdrops and Glitter

Just to be clear, life is not all peachy and perfect for me. I don’t want to give the impression that Joe and I broke up and the world became right. God, no. I have my moments of deep sadness, even depression. This weekend I almost broke down in the shower because I wasn’t able to control my two huge dogs on a walk as well as I wanted. I was so mad and sad and felt like I was failing in every aspect. But then I realized it was nearly 11 and all I had had to eat was a handful of mini marshmallows. Not exactly the breakfast of the sane and rational.

I get mad at Joe for the choices he made and I get upset when I see all the things I could have done differently. The important part is that when I catch myself doing this, I work really hard to stop. Looking back is important because we need to learn from the past, but you cannot change what has already happened. Concentrating on that leads only to madness.

I AM happier, I AM healthier, and I AM continuing to do what I see as best for myself and my loves. I’m legitimately excited for the future and what I’m going to find there. It’ll be big and it’ll be impressive, because I honestly can’t accept anything less than that. I mean too much to accept less than what I deserve.

The best part is that I’m finally learning that those words are true. They aren’t just something I’m saying to shut up a well meaning friend or family member. I am worth it. I may still get sad or angry or hate the way I look in that shirt, but at least those are becoming the rare moments in my life instead of the normal.

So I’ll forgive myself those brief moments when I want to slam a fist through a wall or want to crawl under the covers and cry. Because they are brief. And they remind me of how far I’ve come and how much more I have to go.

It’s going to be a fun journey! There will probably be fire…

The One Where I Hate Myself… Again.

So apparently it’s the all new raging fad to admit that you are insane. Or at least going through some crappy times that make you feel crappy for way long than you think is acceptable. This? Sucks.

The Bloggess, always an inspiration, is calling out for people to talk about their problems. She was inspired by someone who actually made a documentary (a little one, but powerful) about coming out about his mental illness.

Part of me thinks “Awesome! I’m not alone!” But the other part is just sad that soooo many people feel this badly. Seriously? I have tears in my eyes right now. But I’m willing to admit I’m not feeling exactly stable.

I am the biggest hypocrite. I work in the mental health field. I KNOW how important it is to talk, to let people know how you are feeling. That going to therapy can be a good thing! But I’m ashamed to let certain people know I’m talking to someone. Professionally. And I cried telling my person that I was depressed. HOW CAN I FEEL THAT WAY?! I TELL EVERYONE I KNOW WHO IS HAVING ISSUES TO TALK TO SOMEONE! THAT IT’S OKAY TO TAKE THOSE MEDS IF DEEMED NECESSARY! But I’m ashamed.

I’m scared to talk to the people who really matter about how I feel. The Boyfriend? I have no idea how he is living with me right now. Maybe he doesn’t even notice. Maybe I’m making this all up in my head. All I know is I can’t sleep at night because all I think about is how I’m not enough and I’m worthless and I’M SO FUCKING SICK AND TIRED OF BEING SAD AND ANGRY.

I feel like I’m just spinning around and around. I go through spurts of happy and think “Yaaaay! It’s over!” and then BAM, something happens and my mind is curled up in a ball inside my head, whimpering.

All I know is I need to stop avoiding things I worry will hurt and just fucking confront them.

Dissolving Resolve

This is why I never make New Years Resolutions. Because I am terrible at them and the petulant teenager in me apparently goes “Oh, you think you’re going to do what? Yeah… I don’t think so, bitch.”

That’s my subtle way of saying that I have not really “thought beautifully” for any length of time since my last post. Go me. I understand that I get hormone fluxes that seriously affect my temperament. But this is bullshit.

I am so tired of being negative. It’s like I cannot stop my mind from hating me and everything around me. Yes, I am tired. Yes, money is tight. Yes, I weigh more than I find attractive. These are factors in a bad mood, but it’s no real reason for the near constant barrage of negativity I’ve had slamming into my mind. I can’t turn it off once it starts!!

I have moments where I am happy and laughing, but the moments where I am nearly in tears (or I actually am sobbing, hiding in the bedroom or bathroom) or silently raging are increasing. Again.

I don’t even want to finish this because I’m upset at how ugly it is.

Ugh. I’ll try to be better. But sometimes I wish I was enough just as I am.

Happy Halloween!

Pumpkin Pig!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

You would have been treated to an adorable photo of one of my sweet animals dressed up, but The Boyfriend feels that it would terrify my guinea pig, and destroy the dignity of the rabbits and dogs. Russia would have been the cutest bumble bee ever! So instead, enjoy this stranger pig I discovered. Still cute!

Also? I’d love to know how I went from sneering at the idea of dressing animals to plotting ways to get my guys in costume. Clearly I have been possessed.

Plants, Dentists, and Money

I am lacking a sense of freshness in my life. Yes, I bought Febreze, but that’s not really what I mean.

Also, why is that when I have no money, my urge to spend it is the strongest? Is this true for anyone else? I want new clothes that fit properly (I also want to fit into smaller sizes, but money doesn’t buy that… at least not without some SERIOUS cash and some lasers) and new boots and cute shoes to wear to work. I want new glasses that aren’t five years old and peeling at the frames.

I’d also like to go to the dentist, but I don’t really think that fits into the whole splurging on myself thing. Maybe it does. Especially if I finally go big and get those stains the damn orthodontist left there. Never trust a Dr. Slick. Especially one who dies suddenly in Mexico. True story, folks.

In other news, I learned that while my obsession with plants is good for purifying the oxygen in the house, it’s probably better to learn what the plants like and not just hope that your living room has the right amount of light. Also, my dogs like the dirt I bought. That’s half the reason my poor living room palm died. They kept eating the dirt and exposing the roots. They also spread the dirt all over the living room carpet. Brilliant.  The other reason it died is because in an attempt to save it, I over watered it. I mean badly. Friends, if you have a pot that doesn’t drain, I highly recommend checking under the decorative rocks you placed there to keep the damn dogs from eating the dirt to see if it actually needs watering. Seriously, when I put the new palm (which wants the kind of light the living room gives it, yay) in the pot, I was dealing with mud. I had that pot tipped over and draining a constant stream of water for at least five minutes. Probably more.

That’s my story. For now.

A Mouse in a Lion Suit

It’s always disappointing when you expect yourself to roar like a lion and all you hear is a little mouse whisper.

I got my butt patted by a client the other day. He came up behind me and BAM! Hand on my ass. I was so shocked that I was literally speechless for a moment. That right there is upsetting. I would have hoped that my pseudo-confident, feminist, positive sex self had taken over more of the shy, scared little girl than that. My response to something like that in my head was always either a slap/punch (let’s face it, I’m violent) or an immediate “Don’t EVER touch me again!” said loudly. Instead, there was nothing.

Luckily, another client, a sweet older man, immediately spoke up. “Hey now! We don’t do that kind of thing!” Thanks, old man, for speaking when I couldn’t. I’m glad that someone could, and doubly glad it was someone of your gender and age.

Sadly, my mouse voice continued even further. Once I was alone with the client, instead of speaking in a confident, strong voice, I quietly told him that his actions were completely inappropriate. Quietly. It obviously had no effect on him, since he made two inappropriate comments during our time together. Yes, I again let him know this was unacceptable.

I ever APOLOGIZED to my supervisor when I told her about it. As if it were in any way my fault. I apologized multiple times because of the hassle she would have to go through because it. She never made it seem like a hassle, in fact had a really great response to it, which makes me feel good. Too often things like this are swept under the rug. However, I feel almost trained to apologize for something like this because I’m obviously at fault. I’m a woman after all.

NO! That’s so wrong and I hate that I feel even one iota of that. I want so badly for no female to ever feel it’s her fault. Or man who gets harassed for that matter.

So. We’ll see how it goes next time with the client and if even one thing makes me vaguely uncomfortable, I’m done. He can go to someone else. I refuse to put up with that behavior, especially when it has nothing to do with his symptoms. At least I know I’ll be supported there.

I’ll run back into a burning building for a friend, but I apparently won’t speak up for myself. This is a problem. And one I promise myself I will work on. You should too.

Please don’t ever lose your voice.

Start A Revolution. Or At Least Fix That Damn Leaky Faucet.

I have a sort of blindness. If I become passionate about something, I don’t understand why others don’t become passionate about that subject as well. It’s not that I feel whatever I’m interested in is the most important thing, it’s just a sort of child-like lack of ability to make the connection that not everyone cares about the same thing.

Obviously I understand this on some level, but there’s always this little piece of me that saying “Wait, how can you just walk away from this? Isn’t this important to you too?” Okay, maybe I completely understand how not everyone is as interested in my obsession with food, or how not everyone thinks Vin Diesel is amazingly hot, sweet, and kind.

But we have a bunch of feral cats running around my office. Most of the time they do just fine, but sometimes they get really sick, or die, and frankly, they breed like hell which makes things less healthy for EVERYONE, including the cats. Apparently, people have been complaining of this problem to the local shelter for over SIX YEARS, but no one ever did anything. The shelter doesn’t have the space or manpower to trap ferals and the locals didn’t care enough.

If it’s bothering you or you’re worried, why aren’t you doing something? I guess a small group was, but it wasn’t very organized. I talked to shelter, got us a trap, a reduced rate to fix and treat any cat we bring in, and got all of this taken care of in a few weeks. Very little actually effort there. And we’ve already caught and released a cat.

If something is bothering you or if you’re passionate about something, stand up and DO something about it. Bring a little revolution into your life. By no means am I a true activist, always fighting for my passions and beliefs, getting things done. But I feel that if you really believe in something or if it’s something that bugs you and is easily fixed… why not move forward and take care of it.

That’s what I’m going to try for in my life. To be a little more of Revolutionary Girl. (Which is the title of my favorite poem by my friend Shelle… Also a reference to one of my favorite animes because I am a nerd. You love me anyway.)

It’s the Little Things

It’s interesting how attached we get to little things. My sweet, adorable, darling, giant of a puppy ate my phone Monday night. Okay, so he didn’t swallow anything (I hope) but he certainly destroyed the hell out of it. The front keyboard was ripped out, any thing remotely moveable was permanently removed, the casing was cracked and pulled apart, and there were really deep tooth marks in the rest of it. Miraculously, the phone still turned on and could probably have functioned as a phone… if I wanted to punch numbers with a toothpick and desired the Most Ghetto Phone of All.

He also broke the microSD card. Yeah, the one stuffed INSIDE the phone. Snapped it in half with the power of his monster jaws. I think he’s part Lab, part shark. This means that a good 200 pictures are gone. Forever. Most of them were just silly things, but some were precious. The gray cat in the PA ASPCA shelter I loved at first sight and never saw again. Some photos of Kaylee, my rabbit and Nora, my guinea pig. Fun photos my friends sent me. X’s ultrasound and pregnant belly photos. (Although I have a sneaking suspicion that I can get those again) Tanner the foster dog with his awesome Laser Eyes photo and Peggy the soon to be foster dog giving birth to her soon to be foster puppies.

I have all the memories, so it’s silly to be so upset that they’re gone. The Boyfriend can replace some of them, so there is that. It was just surprising to me how much of a gut punch to realize that all of those were lost.

I’m curious, is there something you’re really attached to that you think is probably trivial in the big picture, but you would grieve if you lost?

Pet Peeves

I may have used that title before… obviously I’m too lazy to check.

Let’s go over a few of my faaaaaavorite pet peeves.. Okay, let’s go over one of them. Lying. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m not exactly Princess Truthful every day. Certain lies are necessary, such as whether or not a hair cut looks nice (until they tell you they’re getting it again, then it is your duty as a friend to say at least something) or if that new puppy is adorable.

HOWEVER…. nothing bothers me more then a lie directly to the face that is just plain bad. Two recent examples are perfect. Yesterday, I got a call from a client asking me to pick him up from the hospital as he hadn’t heard from his friend. I had time, so I told him I’d be right there and ran up to tell the receptionist where I was going.  Halfway there, I get a frantic call from the receptionist saying that the client had called back and was already gone from the hospital. This was annoying, but not uncommon. Shockingly, despite being mostly dependent on our services and how far out of the way (and job description) we go for them, most of our clients are neither grateful or careful with appointments. And I got Twizzlers out of it, so I got over my annoyance.

Then this afternoon, said client drops off a note blaming the mix up on the receptionists sending his calls to the wrong extension. LIE! FUCKING LIE!! I talked to her right before I left!  I showed the receptionist and she is piiiiissed.  I do not envy that client when he shows his face next.

Next new favorite lie? Mentioned to a friend that a website page hadn’t been updated in awhile. Not a huge deal, people get busy. I guess my friend mentioned this to the person who is suppose to be updating (my friend doesn’t have internet right now) and the person told her that the page was updated daily. SERIOUSLY?! Ugh… obviously I’m looking at a totally different page. That would be a great excuse, except the entire website will go days without change, which makes the whole “updated daily” thing still bullshit.

Soo… that’s kind of my rant for the day. I’m still kind of working out the whole “I get too angry or annoyed by things” issue I’m having.

In other news, I still don’t have a dress for my sister’s dinner or Shaba’s wedding. I did go shopping though!