I asked my mom a question the other day, whether it’s that I’m too smart or too dumb to succeed. I’m not quite sure what the answer is. All I know is that there ain’t a lot of success going on right now.
Even though I cut my workload in half to be commensurate with the pay I am bringing in, I still find myself working a lot. Yeah, the Internet is always slow (or out) and I want to scream at how long it takes to do the least-complex tasks. But I wonder whether I’m also dragging out the small amount of work to fill these very long days.
Tonight I have to research a topic I don’t support at all, and write three articles on it. Ask me how much fucking fun I’m having at the extra work for my silly flat fee.
But tonight I went out with mom and we did our little charity project together. That’s fun. It’s a small distraction from Everything Else. It’s nice to make a tiny difference where I can, and anonymously at that.
I’ve been grappling a little bit with grace and karma today. On our way out the door, an elderly gentleman here accosted me to get me to sign a petition to reinstate the Evil Landlady, who got fired two weeks ago.
*hahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaa*
I know he had the hots for her so I can see why he would want the bitch back. I, on the other hand, have suffered undue amounts because of her negligence and nastiness, so HELL NO I don’t want her back.
Case in point, I got a package today from one of my author friends who sent me a signed book. Normally, I would never have gotten the package because I didn’t know it was coming. Only if I visited three times, prayed to the moon, danced a jig and produced a delivery confirmation, I MIGHT have gotten the package within the month.
But today, I got a note under my door announcing the package. (Which, they could have KNOCKED and HANDED IT TO ME.)
I went to see the kid in the rental office, and thanked him for letting me know a package had come. He said, and I quote, “Well, since old what’s-her-name took all the resident e-mail addresses, it was the only way I could think of to tell you that something had come for you.”
Old what’s-her-name. *snort*
I glanced at the old guy’s petition. It looked like he had signed a bunch of different names in different ink colors. They were all in the same large, slanted script. I’m guessing his petition hasn’t gotten a lot of support.
I was honest with him. I said that I’ve lived in places where the manager went above and beyond to help me. And here, simple courtesies or expected maintenance was laughed at repeatedly. So, thanks, but no I really don’t want to put my name on a cause that I don’t believe in.
He went OFF on me. YELLING OVER ME. That nothing was her fault and she did her best. I tried to interject that I agree — who the hell would WANT to run this albatross? Isn’t she happier without being responsible for Amityville anymore?
Blah blah more screaming. Mercifully, two other residents came in and I beat it out of there. I did tell him I would consider his request. That’s the best I could do.
Now, we all know I don’t intend to sign it. But as I thought about it, I was tossed out on my ass myself not too long ago. However, I imagine that someone, somewhere may have thought it was a shame … that I at least tried to be helpful and good and take care of people. And I just can’t say the same of her.
Nobody saved me, so there you have it. But then there’s that damn little voice asking me, “Well, maybe you have a chance to make sure someone else doesn’t get as screwed as you did.”
This “being a good person” thing is hard. She deserves nothing from me. I mentally said my goodbyes and wished her well. Can’t it end there? Or is God calling me to be a better person by forgiving her for all the hell and horror she inflicted on us?
Of course, you can’t buy grace. Doing a good deed against my bloody will isn’t going to get me an income I can rely on. It’s not going to heal my mom. It’s not going to write these ridiculous articles that I am appalled I have to lose sleep over.
I don’t want to carry a grudge. If they WOULD consider rehiring old what’s-her-name, I would hate to be complicit in that. That’s like your kidnapper letting you go and you turning back. Hell to the naw.
What would have happened had my job asked me back? Yay salary. (God I miss that part.) But would you really want to go back and always be walking on eggshells?
I don’t know why this bothers me so much. I guess being the windshield while the birds circle you is an altogether too familiar feeling. As a human, I would want to spare another human from that feeling. But as Goddess thinking about how treacherous Evil Landlady has always been, I’m going to have to work on my grace and forgiveness skills.
And frankly, I’ve watched the bitch treat the elderly gentleman who’s fighting for her terribly. Men are so freaking dumb sometimes. All she had to do was toss around her greasy blonde hair and he was hooked all over again. Pity. I’ll bet he thinks this heroic effort on his part will woo her.
And with that, I realize my life feels pretty cruddy right now, sure. But at least maybe it is that I’m smart enough not to succeed, rather than dumb enough. I don’t know. I guess I only have enough left in me to help those who deserve it, and I hope that somewhere someone feels like I deserve their help as well.
So, yeah, no more Evil Landlady. The place doesn’t run any worse without her. And I’m thinking most of the other residents feel the same way. But it does make me realize that even the next person won’t be on my side, either. So, it’s just about my time to go. Ergo, I am thanking God for my exit plan, whatever that may be, because I have to believe it’s on its way.