This week, I heard of two major resignations in my field.
In my job function, too.
Two MORE, I should say.
As usual, folks left without something else lined up.
My playwright friend asked yesterday, “Who broke your heart?”
“Everyone,” I told her.
I don’t want their jobs. And I certainly don’t need to deal with the ones who broke their hearts too.
Trying to figure out when I’m going to get my Christmas errands done when I don’t even have time to leave for lunch or exit anywhere close to on time.
Fuck, I bring Xmas cards with me every day. Yesterday I didn’t even eat at all. And not one personal errand got done till I shoved (way too much) food in around 8.
(Cards still unaddressed/unwritten beside me …)
Then you get those weird questions about what you/your folks do all day. (Dance circles around the ones no one is asking about for $100, Alex.)
Also, one of those errands? I need a fucking tree since mine FELL ON ME while I was sleeping in front of it the other night.
Returned that shit. Just haven’t figured out a Plan B.
And at this rate, I probably won’t.
I fell asleep way past midnight, thinking of my recently deceased friend and wishing I could ask her a question about a known liar’s conversation with a big pussy.
If she were still here on earth, she’d give me a good opinion. I can only imagine what she’s seeing now.
Fell asleep and dreamed that I walked into a restaurant. Saw my grandparents and my mom and my Uncle Ed at a table. Was walking over to them when …
THE FIRE ALARMS WENT OFF.
All.
Night.
Long.
Then the new neighbor upstairs started stomping around, just like I did the other night to inspire the women downstairs to cut the freaking TV volume.
Anyway, left for work super-early and super-pissed at the universe.
Then …
Went to my favorite Starbucks that I rarely visit because it’s by the old office and we have another, lesser location in our backyard.
(I had to go there to pee twice yesterday, so I can’t talk smack about them. The baristas gave me their code to use their restroom. Traffic jams at my place.)
In any event …
My favorite barista was stocking shelves. She took a quick look at me and said …
“You better stop that. A gust of wind is going to blow you away pretty soon!”
🙂
Yeah, that made my day.
A colleague from up at HQ said something similar yesterday too.
That melts everything else away.
Also, yeah. I look a little different than what they may remember …
Thanksgiving in Key West 2010 and 2016
That moment when you have a ton to contribute to a discussion but you do your “German scream” (SNL. Kate McKinnon as Angela Merkel. Genius.) so you don’t open an opportunity to feel like shit.
Old ladies downstairs were blasting their TV all night with the windows open.
I could take it till 12:15. Then I did an Irish jig, some booty poppin and some shit stomping around the house.
They turned the TV off.
Too bad I was too het up to fall asleep for four hours.
Now if I can get them to stop chainsmoking because it makes my momma sneeze …
They say vacations stimulate your creativity.
I wasn’t so sure at first. I spent the week losing sleep, thinking about all the stuff that gives me anxiety every day anyway. That service we need to close, the product lineup. the kinds of people we need to hire who just don’t exist, shifts that need to happen that I can’t outline here, and basically the feeling of being so overwhelmed (and other adjectives) about it all.
But I started reading a book that I am not ready to talk about here. And it has helped me to be more aware of my role in things. Not that I feel like I can put out the fires by myself. But I can try to not feel so crushed, and it only takes some small fixes to do it.
When I travel, for example, I put my phone in “airplane” mode. It saves the battery and I don’t get 42 alerts an hour on whatever psycho the Orange Clownfish is appointing to his Cabinet. But when I turn the phone back on … woweee. Everything hits at once.
So I recognize, hey maybe I don’t need to be getting alerts from 20 news apps. I mean yes it helps because some write the headlines/nut grafs better (and more accurately) than others. But gah, the anxiety it triggers now that my candidate — the safe, lovely, experienced, charming grandma with whom I felt my future was safe — is hiding in the woods and this nutty fucker is up rage-tweeting against “Saturday Night Live” while I’m trying to watch it.
(Aside: As I tweeted to the orange menace himself, I agree — SNL isn’t funny. It’s FACTUAL because he’s a PARODY already.)
(Aside 2: I have never tweeted President Obama, or VP Biden, with anything other than a thank you or a congratulations. But this fucker? I wish I could say how I really feel about his Nazi-loving ass. Jesus. My grandfather fought the Nazis and now we are inviting them to run the country. I’m so glad he isn’t here to witness this.)
In any event, I think I also need to unsub from most eletters too. I found myself fascinated by politics when I thought competent people were going to be/remain in charge of them. Now it’s all such a joke. I might as well do something more productive with my downtime.
I know this isn’t creative, by any means. But it’s a start.
And I did get a really good idea that I’m not going to talk about. Because I don’t do anything once I’ve written it down. But I type this to say I wouldn’t have had the idea had I not been walking around paradise with nary a thought in my head other than, “What cocktail am I going to order next?”
(That’d be “coconut mojito,” for those playing along at home.)
OK, back to the salt mines. Good to be away. Good to have something to come back to. Even if it’s the same thing I left. My goal is for things to be better before my next escape. Even if my adherence to my values is the only thing that improves, that’ll still be a good thing.
Bought a table top tree.
Bought some really nice lights.
Put those lights on today.
Tree looked great.
Went to cut off sticky tag on the wire of the lights.
Accidentally cut the fucking wire clean through.
WTG, Goddess.
Didn’t sleep well in the Keys. Mom fell on the first day and she was already in chronic pain. So basically now it’s even more excruciating. And while it was a good vacation, it wasn’t the restful escape we needed.
But oh how she tried to keep up with me as I drove and parked her everywhere instead of just walking this tiny town. I love that woman bunches.
Had the worst dream on my last night. It stems back to when we saw the orange clownfish’s buggy whip at PBI …
I dreamed I was set to perform in a play in a prestigious venue. Momma was backstage to cheer me on. Then I looked out the window and saw this idiot backing his dumb plane into a parking spot.
I was furious and left the building. Momma, slow as she is now, followed me across the street.
Someone ran to find us and say that Trump commanded my return. I said I command his resignation. God I hate him.
I did decide to go back because I didn’t want to let down my team. (Kind Of like going back to work after a vacation.)
Momma was so so tired. She followed me for a few steps and had to sit down.
Here’s the hard part …
“I’ve gone as far as I can go with you,” she said. “You’ll be on your own from here. I’ll always love and support you from where I am.”
I died. I cried in my dream and I woke up in hysterics.
This is my life. Hating Trump for being alive and being fearful that my mom is dying. How I wish they could trade places. The world would be so much better off with her in charge. Or, at least, in this world at all. And healthy. Lord please make her healthy …
