Caterwauling

All I wanted this week was time to do a report that I’d normally have to lose nights and at least a weekend to complete. 

But alas. We have illusions to create. I found myself busier than ever. And behind as usual.  What report?

No magic here …

Between deplorables trying to Twitter-troll me and some Pantsuit Nation babes telling me I’m not “of color” enough to be outraged at Trump … and Carrie Fisher and Debbie Reynolds dying within 24 hours of each other … 2016 is officially deplorable enough to earn a Cabinet position. 

Irony: My Pantsuit Nation shirt arrived today. It’s too big. Maybe it’s a sign. Who knows.

I hate the world today. 

Facebook memories reminded me a few days ago that Sia and I were eating dinner at Dada that night.

Big day for us. Big celebration of being the most amazing team ever, at my favorite restaurant that she quickly adopted as hers too. My Christmas gift to her, that feast. 

Facebook memories reminded me today that it’s the day I got shitcanned from my last full-time job.

I blame the job and the cunt in charge for ruining my friendship with Sia.

Sia tried. She really did. But I was so deflated. I was supposed to be a role model. I was supposed to have my shit together. I was supposed to lead us to greatness.

Instead she got crushed under the massive workload and ultimately worked herself into an early grave at age 31.

I wasn’t afraid I’d walk in to a pink slip today. (Perhaps more afraid that I wouldn’t? Just kidding. I know who’s reading this. Got to enjoy some humor where I can get it these days.)

Getting let go was one of those life-changing events that wasn’t really good for my nerves, my career or my friendships. It didn’t make me stronger. If anything, it gave me more anxiety than I already had.

It needed to happen. I can say that now. I still won’t send the bitch a thank-you card, as she was expecting when she said I would thank her someday.

It’s not like I will get that time … or that seniority … or that spark … or my friend … back.

The things you lose in exchange for the ability to funnel all your money into ever-rising rents, I tell you.

Normally I’m riddled with anxiety. But on this Christmas Day, I took a long walk, argued with idiot Trump voters on Facebook, enjoyed my Panrsuit Nation friends, dressed up like an elf, dressed my cat up like an elf, ate delicious food and chilled with a hot cup of blueberry tea. 

Today we learned the world spared Carrie Fisher but took George Michael. 2016 is going to suck until its bitter end. Then it’s nuclear war thanks to Deputy Dumbshit down the road when he moves to my beloved Washington. 

I’ll worry about all that, and then some, tomorrow. 

Today I learned that someone has a crush on me. I’m terrified and yet I feel limitless. 

That I can have people treat me poorly and try in their pitiful way to make me feel “lesser than.” And yet others think I am pretty terrific just as I am, as “Bridget Jones” once put it. 

Just as I am. 

So yeah. I’m going to keep being me. And snarking and changing my hair color and dancing and dreaming and moving along with my life. 

But yeah. Me. Bring loved. 

I mean it’s not a new concept. I know of many songs that were sung about me. But it’s nice to know what when I was getting snapped at and put down by lesser people, others didn’t see the scratched soul. 

They saw something special. They saw me, just as I am. And it wasn’t just that I was good enough, but even better. 

Merry day, indeed. 

Impossibly and wonderfully short first “thing” of the day. Winner winner, ham and turkey dinner.

Then I ran to Bux. My favorite barista told me how great I looked and asked “my number now.”

Now, we’ve had this ongoing thing where she will ask me how much weight I’ve lost. I use my highest number as a baseline.

I thought for a second and said “76.”

Before I could do the math, though, another barista yelled out, “Her number is 1-800-BABE!”

LMAO.

They congratulated me and we all went about our day.

Then I walked outside and found a lucky penny on the ground. Heads side was up.

Good to see you, Abe. I already knew it was a good day, but it was good to have the confirmation.

I love this day.

I probably spend far more time analyzing situations than others do. It’s because I don’t know what I don’t know — and that includes what others are actually thinking.

I’ve never in my life asked to do less work. But with working from home a benefit that has ceased of late, I am working later and it’s screwing up my home life in a big way.

Last night I missed my shot to pick up the ham I ordered. And they have extended holiday hours. (I had to get up stupid-early to get it today. And got stuck in traffic because people are idiots.)

So with nowhere to go and nothing to lose, I threw a hail mary pass and asked to maybe replace some of next week’s projects with some others. Because usually I have to do those extra projects on my free time (nights/weekends). And it’s Christmas and I’d like to see my mom while I still have her. As she reminds me, everyone else gets to eat with their families.

My suggestion to replace A with B was not met with success. I didn’t get it and it dawned on me later that folks must have thought I was trying to do less.

But that wasn’t really the thing. It was more like wanting to knock out things that have been on the to-do list all year (research, writing reports, hiring help) that required blocks of time and therefore get shoved aside for all the other stuff that’s more urgent.

Because when I get asked (and rightfully so) about those OTHER things, I get apoplectic. I’m already apoplectic after that fucked-up election and the fact that Russia helped install a demagogue into our presidency. I would like a little peace where I can get it.

In any event, I got what I really wanted out of it, which was a n upcoming restoration of remote access. It’s not the “good” access but it will certainly do for now. And that I might actually get to have a hot meal with my mom again is the real win.

Some people want houses and marriages and kids and trips and TVs and “stuff.” I just want time. And health. And since you don’t get “extra” of either, to maximize the current allotment.

Was not quite feeling festive this morning. Was redder than the dress I ended up wearing to the Christmas party, actually.

Mom said don’t go. Avoid any more chances to be upset. 

I fucking put on that red dress and had a hell of a good time. Because THAT is what a Goddess does.

When I left, she commended my choice to go to the ball. “That fireplace will be there tomorrow, Cinderelly.”

Also, where else could I rock my fabulous new hat?

There’s an organic food place I visit two or three times a week. 

They advertised for Christmas dinners. Ham or turkey. Caprese or Brie en croute. Root veggies and bourbon pecan pie. Order now for Saturday pickup. 

So I ordered … and was told they can’t help me because I only need two meals. 10 minimum. Didn’t you read the sign?

Then they emailed again. Ok we will sell you five meals. Deal?

Dude. I did not shit out three kids overnight. 

Great to know that a family of five is more important than me trying to perk up our sad little Christmas with a special meal. 

So basically, a longtime regular customer spending $40 for two meals isn’t important. The way to make me feel better is to charge me $100. 

Welcome to Trump’s America, folks. 

(Also, fuck the electors who voted for him. Double-fuck the Hillary defectors. I was rooting for Kasich or McCain anyway, but Jesus the electors ex-Supran are as dumb as the people they represent. )

In any event, my money spends just fine anywhere I take it. I’m just pissed that now I have to come up with a new plan instead of a place I like and trust. And sad that I could be referring to either a restaurant or a country I’ve lost faith in. 

When I started this masterpiece 15 years ago, all I really talked about were my relationships. Then it was all about work and occasional Ecstasy use and song lyrics. Then veiled contempt for neighbors, some daytime situations and pretty much everyone I’ve ever known, buried beneath positive stories of people and things that did not suck the will to live from my very being.

Today I find myself once again stripped of my ability to work from home on a Friday. And I’m like, fuck it. Advantage: Goddess. Use it.

So, I thought about someone I’ve bumped into around town here and there, and set an intention to run into said person.

I don’t often get out at lunch and certainly not for long. But today I finished a project (that’s been sapping my will to live all week, mostly because of 13 long calls and limited “focus” time) right around 12:30.

And I know I will see this person right around 12 at a certain coffee shop.

So I headed that way.

And I actually walked past it and grabbed a salad nearby.

Was walking back to my camp when I thought, eh. I really could use some coffee. At this point it’s 12:45 and no chance of seeing anything interesting.

Right?

Well …

I have a smile on right now. That is all.

I don’t need progress. I don’t even want progress. We all know I fear it anyway. The universe likes to take away the good things, so best to not really have too many.

Naturally, I was an idiot. Couldn’t talk or function quite right. I’m sure it showed even more than I think it did.

But still.

I like my shirt today, I like my lunch, I like my coffee, I like the final result of my project and I like the 15 minutes midday of anticipation, relief and maybe even a little reward.

Look at me, being brave.

My cool Melissa Etheridge goddess shirt …