It’s not quite 7:30 am and it’s been a long day already. I have a million things to do today and I’m not entirely sure how I’m going to do them all and here I sit, penning (ok, typing) this rant because … well, because I need this small bit of time for me and my mental health.
I am in consideration for a very interesting writing position but I have to pass their writing test. Although I feel as if this is something I can do, I’m a bit nervous about it because I really and truly want this job. The test has a deadline and I have to get it done asap so that is the entirety of what I will be spending my time on today. I will immerse myself in this test and make certain it gets done correctly, even if it gets done slowly, because I want it done amazingly.
Oops, no, that isn’t quite correct.
I have bills to pay and I have chores around the house that simply did not get done this weekend. I have trouble living with a messy or unclean house, it seems to roll over into my mental faculties and affect my writing and my production. I can leave the house so I can’t see it, but eventually I have to come back.
I have an afternoon appointment that will take me three hours in the car and I’m not sure I have gas. I agonize about keeping this appointment because it is going to cost me money. Not a great deal of money, but money, nonetheless. I also purchased an article of clothing recently which I bought for multiple purposes that I am thinking of returning because, although I got it for half-price, it still wasn’t free. This upsets me because I really and truly want this small bit of something that I don’t need, but in the end, I believe it might just make me more unhappy than happy. It’s funny how a mere $10 can change your outlook on things, sometimes.
I continually say that I’m not about money, that money doesn’t concern me, that I don’t really care about it. I don’t think I’m being untruthful or trying to fool anyone because I really don’t care about an overabundance of money. But it is funny how the game tends to change when you really don’t have any.
I spent another bit of my dwindling funds on a restaurant last night. Because we were rushed to leave at closing time, and because it occurred to me that the waitress was waiting for us so she could leave, and because she was working on Mother’s Day, and because I was all ready to go, I took care of it. I am used to a sharing of money and funds and responsibilities. I’m incredibly awful at this whole separation of everything and don’t know how to handle it at all. I paid the bill because it was expedient. Regardless of who or what I am now, I was raised with a healthy dose of Catholic guilt and the knowledge that people are more important than money or things. I won’t ask for the return of the money because I was there, too. I can’t accept the offer of ‘do you want me to pay you back?’ because the attitude seems ludicrous to me. A partnership encompasses all, mental support, physical care, a sharing of responsibilities and monetary issues – both loss and gain. I don’t understand the mine-yours separation but yet it seems as if I must abide by it.
I’m not sure why but it seems like the ability to offer a small and simple bit of sunshine is categorized as ‘mine’ and ‘yours’ and falls under the separation umbrella. Ultimately I know that I am responsible for my balance, attitude, and beliefs but I guess my Cancerian nature leads me to want external confirmation – early, often, and repetitively. This doesn’t seem overkill to me, or redundant, but a continuing confirmation of support and care and interest and desire.
I think someone doesn’t get me and the fact that I just want to hear some small term of encouragement or endearment or an ‘I love you’ in the morning when the day is going to be crazy or I seem like I’m brooding about something.
I tend to brood about things and then, instead of speaking what is on my mind, I redirect my thoughts to something that is more about me. I will lie awake in bed late on a Sunday night, wishing that the housework was done and knowing that I will do it because it bothers me and I cannot wait until the following weekend to have it set right. I cannot wait because it both bothers me now and because there is no guarantee that it will be done the next weekend, either. But, instead of complaining about the state of the house or the fact that I don’t have time, I will just do on Monday and feel like that is unfair and I will beat up on myself, instead.
I will look at the dishes in the sink and the bathroom that needs to be cleaned and the laundry that didn’t get put away and the yard work that is half done and the old door that I cannot replace and I will care enough about my partner that I won’t want to complain that I am overworked and underpaid. I will remember how much he has on his plate and all his deadlines and what he has to accomplish. So, I won’t want to mention that things didn’t get done, that I am not being supported as a ‘housewife’ and need to take care of other things, work, bring in money, take this test, figure out finances, family, life, the universe, and everything, all before 8am and so …
…and so I will take out one of my many flaws, something that won’t be changed and I will mentally pick at that scab. I will beat up on myself instead of beating up on others. I will make myself focus on myself so I will not take out my frustrations on someone else. I will mention my flaw and hope for a word of encouragement, or a voice that tells me I am being silly, someone to say that I have no flaw or that things are ok and then I will not care that I am faced with the aftermath of domestic neglect.
I am an expert as assuming responsibility, even when that responsibility is not mine to assume. I am the queen of being able to turn gold into straw, thoughts into reality, reality into anything. I am the tiara-less princesses in a boat with no paddle.
I am doing nothing other than trying to make others happy as I redirect things to make myself unhappy. Having my unhappiness counteracted with endearments or love confirms my choice in attempting to create happiness or avoid unhappiness. If I can fill in a gap in one way, then it is fair for another to fill in a gap in a different way. I guess I feel as if balance needs to happen in one manner or the other. This has not been a conscious thought process … until this writing. The thought process feels correct and follows the normal convoluted thinking I have come to recognize in myself. One more thing to work on, I suppose. Looking for ‘fair’ is an act of diminishing returns. The more I learn, the more I learn that there is more that I need to learn.
I am confused that the more I attempt to back away, the more I am asked to stay when the more I was here, the more I was wanted elsewhere. Does it follow then, that if I want to be all-in, I have to be all-out?
My life is an abundance of strange situations, oxymorons and coincidences. And believe it or not, I revel in the fact that my life is not static, that I have ups and downs and feelings and issues and joys and heartaches and things to celebrate and problems to solve.
I would not give it up for anything and I do not wish to be pure vanilla with emotions that echo the landscape of the North American plains.
I love me, regardless of the fact that I have flaws and issues and strange beliefs and wants and needs. I believe in making people feel special and doing what I can to brighten someone else’s day. I feel more complete when I can do something small and happy for someone, when I can make someone smile, when I can provide food, or support, or relief to make someone have a better day. And yes, I selfishly want that for me, too.
I love the fact that my life has crazy busy times that stress me out so I can appreciate the quiet in-between times.
But that doesn’t mean that I can’t be sad that my temp job called on the morning that I cannot work because I am testing for another job. The two jobs will fit together well but it seems like Murphy’s Law that I haven’t had a call until today … until the one day I can’t work.
And I know that if I post this rant I will feel guilt because it isn’t all sunshine and roses. And if I post this rant I will be exposing myself and explaining myself to those who know me and those who don’t. These both are scary prospects. But I know that if I don’t post this, I will feel locked up again inside and wonder what might have happened, what could have come of it, what outcome or knowledge or attitudes might have been different.
I want to live in the sun and revel in the warmth of the rays and not be locked away in a dark, dank dungeon. I want to grasp the bull by the horns and look him in the eye and say to him …
“Hey, quit messing up my fur”