Caterwauling

The gods smiled upon me and hired me some help for my new Sunday night projects. It’s glorious.

I’m awaiting the results of the projects. I went ahead and did the work anyway just in case. But I’m confident I’ll get a great result from the new guy and not have to use my versions.

So, that’s two awesome hires in the last month. I’m pretty happy. More than pretty happy. Over-freaking-joyed, I tell you.

I know a lot of people who are intimidated by hiring smarter and more experienced people than them.

But if I were to very honestly write down the list of people I’ve worked with who were junior to me, and the list of who were senior to me, I think they’d all agree that my strength was in managing the stars rather than developing future ones.

I have been doing a ton of thinking these past few weeks. I used to be convinced that I’d end up as an expert in organizational leadership. That I’d be the CEO of my own firm at some point. That I’d be traveling to share my wit and wisdom with people like me all over the world.

That can still happen. Right after I become a novelist. 😉

But I always toe the lines between “I love what I do now” and “There are people who do it better than me” and “Not too shabby for a person who wanted to be a traveling spokesperson/novelist.”

I think what has always held me back from too much success is myself. And my damn mouth. I used to rage against injustice, and tick people off. Now I rage against other things.

What I need to do is to pretend no one else in the world exists. To advocate for myself. Or to just shut the hell up about it all and trust that the universe has a place for a passionate loudmouth with a big heart and a small intolerance for things that impede big progress.

What I also need to do is stop blogging because it makes me nervous. There may be room in the universe for me, but maybe not in the universe I want to be in that involves people who can look the other way every time I need them to.

I got really bad service at a restaurant yesterday.

The meals being either wrong or someone else’s were one thing. But when the server walked away while I was explaining what we did order, I had a revelation.

I don’t think people want to screw up. Self included. But we do.

Maybe it’s time for everyone to temper their expectations.

I expect the world of myself. I am comfortable with people expecting the same of me.

Truth is, I don’t always hit their goals or mine. Or come close. And I am pretty good about beating myself up about it. Both the not hitting the goals or not understanding/knowing them.

I’m going to make a promise myself to go easier on people. I mean generally I try to show grace. But I boil inside.

So this month — yes, I said month — I’m going to keep my temperature below 212 degrees Fahrenheit.

Not try to keep. Keep.

I just watched a movie (“I’ll See You in My Dreams”) and the moral is basically we all end up dead and alone anyway. Might as well not live in stress, too. And hey, maybe a Sam Elliott lookalike will end up briefly on my doorstep, too …

It is past 1 a.m.  The lunatics are screaming again. 

Mom keeps taking mini strokes. The cat needs Prozac. I nod off at my desk. 

I sleep in on weekends now. They can scream for six or eight hours before they pass out. 

I lose my whole day on Sundays. But it beats being up and trying to work on two hours’ rest (nightmares notwithstanding).

I cannot have dumbfuckery. Cannot. Cannot. This place costs too motherfucking much. Wonder if I can get evicted for complaining too much?

That thing I said earlier about dysfunctional relationships being the most honest … I meant it. 

You know to temper your expectations. 

You don’t have to lie to anyone if you don’t want to. 

You let them be totally honest because, really, are they being honest in their real lives? Probably not. Maybe they’re deliciously kinky. Why let that go to waste?

And maybe they’re not telling you the whole truth. But it’s their truth. Or what they want you to believe about them. 

In any event, there’s a certain magic that happens when you can be completely unguarded around someone. Clothes and other disguises scattered about. Pick them up off the floor when you leave. 

I miss that. I miss that moment inside the snow globe. That moment of being vulnerable but not feeling vulnerable. That moment of feeling invincible when outside that globe you’re anything but. 

Sometimes you can go back. Even if you’re in there by yourself. 

I think I let that hopeful part of me die earlier this year. But it was more that I lost hope about certain things rather than everything. 

Lately it’s been hard to keep my head up. But even if all this — *waves hand around at what’s left* — ends, I’ll still be OK. 

I dint know what comes next. But it’s got to be something. And I’m pretty certain that everyone who has been touched by my magic won’t forget it. 

It’s high time I started using my powers for good … my own good. 

And that is my truth. 

It occurs to me that my most-dysfunctional relationships appear to be the most-honest ones. 

I mean, boys are yucky. And they lie. And they are high-maintenance and want to get laid all the time. 

Which, hey, I can live with. Not the lying but I’d rather be contorting myself into unnatural positions a few times a day rather than wondering where else they’re getting it if I’m not providing it. 

In any event, I wonder whether I’m loath to bring new people into my life because there’s only room for one all-consuming job in my life. 

I’ve been making a lot of posts lately and pulling them down minutes later. I think as long as I get to “scream” for a second, I’m fine.

But I do want to take a minute to thank the universe for some divine timing and help.

My best writer left the company. I was able to call the second-best writer I know in the entire field, and hire him to succeed my guy.

The stars aligned. The boss liked my pick. The new guy has assimilated quickly, and we had transition time between the two guys to truly pass the baton.

And both happen to think I am awesome. Which bodes well for asking them to grant wishes on command. They do so with a smile!

So, I just want to take a few moments to be grateful. That’s all. Thank you, Universe. You really had my back on this one.

If my two friends didn’t take me to lunch yesterday, this birthday would have otherwise passed like any other. 

The restaurant gave us a vanilla fig cake on the house. Think pineapple-upside-down cake with figs.

Which, OMG. The whipped cream was worth the price of admission.

When I blew out my candle, I looked at my girls and thanked God for them — and I wished to always be surrounded by amazing people.

I got to thinking about the asshole couple upstairs that beats on/screams at each other … and their two kids.

I also got to thinking about some others who have caused me stress. Or rather who I stressed out over. God knows they probably had no clue.

And I got to thinking about a whole lot of summers ago when I snuffed out what could have been a life from my own body.

I always feel like I owe him/her so much. That I have to live well and make something of my life.

To make it worthwhile that I’m spending my time with useful others, doing useful things.

That I didn’t give him/her up just to waste time with those who were lucky (too lucky) to make it to the world. When he/she wasn’t.

Yeah. Not so much.

If the haters and anti-choicers are right and you are indeed a murderer … well.

When you’ve already taken the life of someone you would have loved, why should you have to waste time with people who aren’t worthy of your presence?

Fell asleep late after noisy neighbors stopped fighting. 

Awakened in a rage, wondering how many more times people can act like fools before I can do something about it. 

Fed the cat because she knew I was up and proceeded to howl like her tail was ablaze. 

Thanked God for letting me have my mom for another birthday. 

Wondered why I have to spend so much time with fuckups when my mom deserves my time and energy so much more. 

Ever go through a breakup so bad, with the other person creating so much drama and havoc in your life, that for a brief moment you wonder whether you should have just stayed there and been slightly less miserable?

Of course, in the end it was worth suffering a lot of pain all at once for the sweet, sweet freedom that resulted.

Going through it again now. It’s the breakup that never ends.

I don’t wish anybody ill. I just wish them gone.

Speaking of gone, my Evil Plan is stalled and I think I’m going to lose my shit if my birthday gift (Monday) isn’t filled with the celebration of being free once and for all.