Caterwauling

Whee tomorrow I get to go before the firing squad and account for all the work I don’t get done in my 75-ish hours of work. Can’t wait.

As I enter hour 15 of this awesome day, I am allowing myself a brain break to read something I need to read that does not involve demands from seven thousand people. You know. For a change.

I won’t remember that it’s been over a month since a little something I like to call (…), or how many inane e-mails I can exchange with Evil Landlady 6 in one day, or just how much construction I can stand and how it still beats yesterday with no functioning air conditioning.

Instead I will remember this:

“If something isn’t working, don’t try harder or do more. Do something different.”

Ironic to read it before going right back to the digital grindstone. But, you know, for lack of time and ability to go have a few hours’ worth of angry sex because I have to do work tonight so I can accommodate all my meetings tomorrow, it’s my only release.

That and Jack Daniels. My only reliable lover.

Speaking of, my phone was ringing off the wall today from someone I don’t want to hear from. Three calls, a text and an IM, to be specific. Maybe I’m not the only one who needs a warm body. Hmmm.

Funny how my life can be reduced to a series of Brat Pack movies. Sigh.

A friend asked me to do a couple favors for him last week and then the efforts ended up being a total waste of time.

This after I got home at varying hours known as “stupid o’clock” around here and then stayed up till “hella stupid o’clock” to accommodate.

I did reach out to ask, “What the actual fuck?” but I have yet to hear a reply.

In any event, I was thinking how late “stupid” and “hella stupid” o’clock really are.

And how, if one cannot achieve what one needs to by “just past reasonable o’clock,” then it should be considered “beyond reasonable” and one should disconnect before they get into the territory where they could potentially disengage permanently.

The thing is, even though “stupid” was the word last week, I still dragged home a boatload of work over the weekend. Because, in my world, you don’t get downtime to finish it if you wait a few days.

Nay. You just have More To Do and Fewer Hours to Do It … that is, unless you let everything bleed into “hella stupid” hour.

When I say this is the year of more, I hope it’s not more stress. Because there, I’m already an overachiever, thanks.

“Shame we have to lick undesirable dick sometimes but we do.” — Mom

Not quite done being mad yet. About other things.

Generally I call people out on their stuff. But never in the heat of the moment unless I’m past the point of no return. And often that means justifying and/or trying to forget the offense when the rage abates.

I got something stuck in my craw awhile back when someone said that providing for their family was their priority. And it obviously wasn’t meant to impale a dagger in heart or anything. But it was a big reminder that I didn’t come first time-wise and I would clearly never come first priority-wise.

Put into context, which I try very hard to do, I realize people are just trying to define, uphold and maybe even give themselves some credit for what they do because no one else will.

I tried to, at every opportunity. Because I saw it and believed it when it came to watching from afar.

But somehow in the pecking order of things, your opinion may be held in high esteem but is it the highest? Probably not.

And that’s all you can really do at this age. Watch from afar the Things That Don’t Concern You.

Maybe I should start replying to the mass of 27-year-olds who reply to my online profile looking for a sugar mama. Only my sugar is Splenda and the only family I’m providing for IS my mama.

This dating-over-40 shit is for the birds, I tell you.

Here’s some “new math” for you.

“You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with.” — Jim Rohn

For me, that’s:

1. Mom, in all her sweetness and sickness.

2. One of my boys, and the weird balance of joy and crazy he inspires in me.

3. I guess The Kid, in all his challenging glory.

4. Probably the rest of my team as one unit. Lord knows we are all on the damn phone/IM all freaking day. We share a brain and need as many arms as we can spare.

5. My editors. I spend equal time with each and their good points and neuroses and various levels of writing ability create an interesting average.

That’s the idea behind what Jim Rohn says. You are the average of the five most-present people in your life.

No wonder I’m so wonderfully fucked-up. And why they are all better for knowing me. 😀

Fascinating to think how different we are, or would be, just by upsetting the checkerboard.

I think that’s why we fear change. Yes we could be the best versions of ourselves right here and now … or we could become even better by making a switch or three … or we could become even more fucked-up with just one non-strategic change.

Now that I know who I am, the question is who do I want to be AND will this combination get me there?

Currently Reading: “2015: The Year of More”

So many reactions. Not the least of which is yes I do live in a nice ZIP Code and boy did I hear wretched things about it from jealous people over the years. An ex-boss called me Gucci, because I cost more than she was used to paying her just-out-of-school minions and I came with a pedigree in our industry. She also was nuts that I lived where I lived, and she didn’t.

And now I even find myself qualifying that yeah it’s a nice neighborhood but man is the place a dump.

The thing is, every once in a while a genuine person comes along and celebrates the good with you and commiserates with the bad. Unfortunately, 98% of the time, they hate your victories and love what makes you miserable.

As such, yes we are taught to downplay what we have and want. I grew up in the projects so I especially identify with the “being afraid to want more” gene. I mean, I always DID want more and now I have it. But the fear never goes away.

It’s kind of a spiritual thing, too. I had a kooky religious friend who, when I’d say, “How are you?” each day, would reply, “Better than I deserve.”

But that’s what we do. We thank God for another day. We know it’s going to be a challenge. But it’s ours to seize, make a difference and, if nothing else, earn our paycheck.

That’s a struggle I think a lot of my friends have. Or maybe just the ones I admire. How do you balance “enough” with “goddamn it I work my ass off and I’m a good person and why can’t I have a little damn luxury without being terrified that I’ll lose it all”?

I think it’s that peace of mind is a luxury. For me it is. The second I found a job I liked that offered me balance, it ended in flames. The second I meet someone who actually makes me feel like being on this earth is a worthwhile experience, I get put in my place real fast. Ergo, when Goddess is happy, the world’s about to spin off its axis.

So, is the solution to never be happy, to never let the world know that you’re happy, or to keep dusting yourself off (as I try to) and hoping that happy isn’t something only reserved for a 1% that no amount of money or good deeds and a pure heart will buy me a place in?

So, yeah. The year of more. The author asks people to define what they want. A lot of people want a Coach purse or the ability to buy one. I think Coach is ugly and overpriced. But my sanity is worth a lot more than that.

So, I want to retire early (rich) at 45 and start my second career at 46. I want that damn year off to make up for all the vacations I’ve never had.

I want to triple my savings this year. That ain’t aiming big, trust me. But it is in fact “more.” And that’s the only way I can start to learn to STOP settling for less.

“‘Cause I don’t wanna fall in love
If you don’t wanna try,
But all that I’ve been thinking of
Is maybe that you might
Baby it looks as though we’re running out of words to say
And love’s floating away.”

— Jessie Ware, “Say You Love Me”

The one thing I promised myself is to go for it this time. Feel it. Every delicious high and excruciating low.

Mission accomplished. Including everything in between.

In the new year, my friends in the Central and Pacific time zones are still getting home at night before me. At least I didn’t resolve to leave earlier this year.

But as my one friend said, “You know, staying an extra three hours at night doesn’t mean you get to shave three hours off your next day.”

That’s the thing. It’s not even the law of diminishing returns for me at night. That’s when I come alive. It’s just a morning like this when I’m dead inside and out that I wish I could get that three hours back.

Since, you know, I was supposed to go grocery-shopping last night and the stores I needed are A) too far away and B) closed at 9 p.m.

Maybe you have a parent, a child, a spouse or other beloved of some sort, a boss and/or people who report to you.

And maybe these people are quick to look at you to be the one to move mountains and make miracles.

Or perhaps they don’t expect it from you, per se. But they rely on you to work magic. Maybe so they don’t have to or because they just don’t have it in them and they know you do.

• Your mom understands that you are too busy to spend time with her or help her to get well.
• Your beloved realizes you’re probably going to move on with your life at some point and they are OK with it because it’s your move, not theirs.
• Your superior/subordinate is happy to let you worry yourself sick and work yourself to absolute death because, you will.

That’s the thing.

I’m a girl who wants someone, ANYONE to do some sort of grand gesture that makes me want to build upon it.

Yet, they aren’t going to.

They won’t.

They never will.

And here’s MY thing.

I WILL.

I would move across the earth for love. For peace. For health. For harmony. For whatever my dream job would be if this isn’t it.

I will do everything my boss wants me to do. Eventually.

Mom, I don’t know if she’s fixable now. I let her slide too long. But all I ever asked her for was to make the first move and I’d figure it out from there. Now, we may be too late.

As for the rest, I’m not saying I want to be responsible for any others’ grand gestures. Maybe I’d be happy and maybe I wouldn’t. Either way, I don’t want to feel obligated in any way, shape or form because of it.

Me, I am comfortable making grand gestures because I can own that it was my initiative and I take responsibility for the outcome.

I know I did everything within my power to make it work. You can say I messed up or made the wrong decision, but you can never say I didn’t try.

I guess I wish that just once, someone would meet me at least halfway. And maybe even really shock me by taking an extra leap so I don’t have to. Like maybe if instead of being proud of deflecting a task, certain minions would own something, anything that would ease my suffering and make me like/want to pay them more/keep them.

And here I said I don’t have any dreams left in me …