Spent most of my 48 hours in Orlando in bed with my laptop while my Jersey family went out and enjoyed the pool and theme parks.
But it was good to see them for dinner and putt-putt and a little pool time and late-night cake eating and baby alligator holding.
I covet their life. But I love that, come Christmas each year, they invite me to be a part of it.
Just a few moments for the memory collection …
Sitting in the condo, ready to face the workday.
Everyone else is asleep. They get vacation days, you know. Where you check out and sleep in and do whatever the fuck you want to do, whenever the fuck you want to do it.
No conference calls for them. No feeling that their personal worth is about zero.
Sometimes if I wonder if being exposed to how normal people live isn’t good for me. I mean, I see how life should be like. Then I have to suck it up and go back to the way things are, with a sick mom at home, an impending move, expenses out the wazoo and work that never ends.
My righteous indignation stems from the fact that others seem to get to work hard and have a life and get a break. And that’s a luxury I just don’t get afforded. But I hang on for the dream of maybe someday, it will all be worth it. And I will know what I want, when I can finally have it.
“I don’t want to have to set you free
Don’t make me.”— Blake Shelton, “Don’t Make Me”
Hanging out with my second family in Orlando. Loving it.
Didn’t officially take tomorrow off. I will probably be working from the pool at the timeshare.
It kills me that everything’s a crisis and the world doesn’t stop for me to take a day off.
Maybe I will ease up tomorrow. What’s a day, right? The world won’t stop turning. No matter how much people tell me it will and no matter how much I hear the equivalent of “You’ll never work in this town again” because I am not through my massive to-do list enough to do more.
I swear if the right guy asks me to marry him and quit my job, I’m not saying no.
God I hope that guy exists. And that I meet him tomorrow. At the timeshare pool, preferably. I could get used to this life.
“In the morning I’m leaving
Making my way back to Cleveland
So tonight I hope that I will do just fine
And I don’t see how you could ever be anything but mine.— Kenny Chesney, “Anything But Mine”
Not heading to Cleveland, but Orlando today.
This trip, I’ve got a hell of a soundtrack and a mind full of memories to keep me company.
“If I ever get down your way
Or you’re ever up around mine
We’ll laugh about the old days
And catch up on the new
Yeah see you when I see you
And I hope it’s someday soon.”— Jason Aldean, “See You When I See You”
More memories to come. Despite probably having to work the whole damn time.
Everything is changing in 2015. I am declaring it now. Usually I save it for when I’m dreaming under my tree on Christmas Eve.
It already has changed, really. And I don’t know what’s next. But I’ve changed. And it’s high time life follows.
The “I Belong to You” discussion in the Rose Garden. *swoon*
Olivia: I wait for you. I watch for you. My whole life is you. I can’t breathe because I’m waiting for you. You own me, you control me, I belong to you…”
Fitz: You own me!
You control me.
I belong to you.
I love you. I’m in love with you. You’re the love of my life.
My every feeling is controlled by the look on your face.
I can’t breathe without you. I can’t sleep without you.
I wait for you, I watch for you. I exist for you.
Yeah he wins that one. Daaaaammmnnn.
I think … we have identified my breaking point.
I would be really curious to know whether the most suicides happen among middle managers.
I need a new everything.
Everyone always asks me what it’s going to take for me to crack.
I will admit, yesterday almost did it. It wasn’t a bad day but I’m collapsing under the weight of it all and no one to give it to.
Add in a really nasty cold, and the fact that I live in a dump and work in an almost as dumpy building with dust and yuck and muck everywhere. My lungs are unforgiving.
And boy howdy.
That’s the thing. How do you get your physical/emotional health back when the conditions never change?!?!
I took down my last post. In fact, most times I write about my helper, I end up trashing it.
It’s not that I care if said person would find said missives. Honestly they probably wouldn’t even recognize themselves. The problem with this world truly is that the intelligent are full of doubt and the cocksure are oblivious to the fact that their place is not always in the first category.
So, I’m going to try to be a grown-up going forward and keep my incredulity to myself.
The good news is I will get some more help next week. The bad news is now I will have a bunch of nice people who did not aspire to Goddess-level greatness and therefore there is no guarantee that it will rub off on them if they are not wholly receptive to it.
There is one employee at the home office I want. I’m putting it out into the universe that I want this person because I. Want. This. Person.
Or someone really damn close.
And preferably a little cheaper, although we see how that works out.
I think that’s the root of my anger. Hiring at gunpoint. Knowing expansion is looming and being instructed to bring in a warm body and to deal with quickening its pulse later.
Expansion is happening again and we’re just not ready. And I can’t get my health back long enough to get ready.
The only solution is for me to do it all until I can’t anymore.
And while I haven’t cracked yet, I’m really afraid I am closer to that point than I’ve ever been.
Warning: Meltdown ahead.
As Mom so eloquently said:
“You worked 55 hours last week … and did your other stuff … and didn’t sleep … and worked ahead … and worked while you were gone … and worked when you came back … and had to pack a lifetime into a weekday and a weekend day … would you stop even referring to that as a vacation?”
On top of it, when I booked the trip I was worried about Ebola. Honest to God I feel like I contracted it in the airport. I feel/look like hammered shit.
It’s probably the not-sleeping thanks to the overwork and the exposed nerve in the back of my mouth that has left my immune system helpless.
But while I’ve said a thousand times in my head that I am grateful for the mess that is my life that let me afford this small slice of something wonderful, if you look at it from Mom’s eyes, she’s right.
It’s bullshit that I have to kill myself to get what others are entitled to … that *I* am entitled to.
I’m going to be out again Monday. Maybe Tuesday. Haven’t decided. Either way it’s back to killing myself for one lousy day to myself.
And maybe after that I can get these damn wisdom teeth extracted. You know, in my copious amounts of free time.
Something has to give and I am really tired of it being me.
So I went from screaming toothache pain on Wednesday to honestly feeling zero pain for the past few days.
And then tonight, back in reality, the screaming ache has started again. Even worse.
This feels appropriate for some reason.
