Caterwauling

If I owned a share of Apple for every time I started off a post with “I’ve finally figured out what my problem is,” well, I would have as many as I do now. (Four because that shit is expensive. Thanks to Warren Buffett for bringing me back to breakeven.)

Unfortunately, I had an urgent project arrive after I typed that first graf. And I totally forget my grand revelation. 

But I bet it had something to do with transitioning to civilian life. Reading the newspaper. Taking lunches. Going to Starbucks. Putting the key in the ignition during daylight hours — morning and evening. 

I’m caught between feeling like a slacker being like everyone else … and HATING being like everyone else. 

Which I’m not. I know that. I’ll never be like everyone else. But it still feels icky to feel like I might get grouped with the riff-raff. 

I get it though. I do hide. Never have I had a review that praises my communication skills. And I am a Mercury child too — the communicator!

It just always bites me when I communicate. I get comfortable and don’t filter. I get criticized for whatever comes out. So I go the opposite route and say nothing. Or blow my bangs and roll my eyes. 

Growing up, whoever had the best insult won the fight. So I got really good at identifying weakness and coming up with that one quip that would destroy someone. That’s power. 

Granted, my fork-dropping comments are usually funny or at least meant to be. But sometimes I can stab with that fork and you never know when that will happen. So, silence is good. 

Like, I really really want to crack a joke about someone a friend is dating. They may take it in good fun. If it comes out that way, that is. At this point I have to keep my distance. And it’s a shame because I can crack myself up about it. But, you know. Am lady. 

I still don’t recall what was wrong with me. But I do realize I’m growing. Maybe not by others’ standards but I am more aware –more wary. More reserved. Less concerned with dumb shit. 

But I’m also not where I want to be. Whatever or wherever it is. But why do I feel like it isn’t where I am … 

And is it even necessary if others who need to aspire to where I already am, never will?

You can take the Whore of White Oak out of White Oak, but she will always be a whore for sure …

I figure I got my first job at 16. So it’s been a quarter-century of fun and games. 

I had that moment yesterday of thinking, wow. I was born to be in charge, and I never made it past a certain point. And that saddens me. 

Now I’m not upset in a Bernie Sanders voter kind of way. I don’t expect anyone to hand anything to me and I won’t cause a riot and insult the winning team because life isn’t fair. 

But when I go to think about what my goals are, I can’t start without figuring out how to un-burn (or Bern) out. 

What’s the lube that will get me unstuck, and where will I go flying if I actually gain momentum?

I loved school when grades would set me apart from the rest. I love work when I excel and set myself apart from the rest. 

I mean, I’m stunted when it comes to normal life stuff.  When did the universe decide I had to be unremarkable across the board, and why did I slowly but surely stop fighting it?

I need a life lobotomy.