I was counting my blessings today and saying them to my friends.
It sounds like romper room. “I’m grateful for J and R and G and S and M. Oh and the Publix salad bar.”
R laughed.
My friend J pointed in a direction and said “You forgot one.”
I said nope. No, I definitely did not forget. In fact, I’d rank the Italian market, the breakfast place and the Honeybaked Ham higher. And I hate spending money!
“Try a thing you haven’t done three times. Once, to get over the fear of doing it. Twice, to learn how to do it. And a third time to figure out whether you like it or not.”
— Virgil Thomson, American composer and critic
Pretty sure I know how I feel going into Day 60. But hey, a virgin gave birth and a Keebler elf left his oak tree and his cookie-baking-over-fiery-crosses business to become attorney general of Russia. So, anything can happen.
Changed my password yesterday to “ILoveMyJob.”
Just typed it in and the system says “What you entered is incorrect.”
Its burn game is on fleek today.
Otherwise known as Day 57 of my captivity.
I was through by 8:37 a.m. And it was just a bareback burro ride through the Mojave Desert without so much as a cup of coffee from there.
Normally I can leave the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad stuff at the halfway point of my trip home. My rule is no b.s. south of exit 70.
Which is fine … any other day. But today, I passed 70 … and was in such a snit that I drove some 20 exits south instead of 10.
And found myself at my old work building.
Yep, by freaking instinct, I ended up there.
I miss it so much, I could just die sometimes.
Ended up going to the cupcake shop I discovered two weeks before I got evicted and thrust into THNGVBD world. Got Momma three cupcakes. And we ate them ALL.
Now that I’m home (and frosting-filled), I went online to look for a new favorite wine. The winery in California doesn’t even sell it. And Total Wine is out of it across the country.
However, there is ONE STORE on the East Coast with my wine.
And you fucking guessed it — it’s at the goddamn wine store that was two blocks from the office I inadvertently DROVE TO today.
I’m not sure I can do this anymore. There are people I absolutely love … and there is everybody else. And the balance is never close to being, well, balanced.
I miss happiness.
Man. Between hearing someone pass off my idea as their own in a meeting … and it got approval coming from their mouth … and getting an edited doc with that mistake made in it … and more, I really don’t know what else to say about today.
Finally got to my favorite town … and my favorite restaurant in it … with some of my favorite people.
Friends since ninth grade!
Da. Da. Damage.
Gemini goddesses.
Yummy Indian vegan entree with Boneshaker wine for me. Love anything Lodi. And chickpeas.
Great fun!
Every now and again, I get the opportunity to hang out with people far more evolved than I’ll ever be. And it’s nice to see that I still have plenty of growing to do, rather than regressing to please certain others.
One of those friends is getting divorced. But it’s far from an ending. It’s opening up a whole new world to her.
I don’t have to feel like shit every day anymore, she tells me. I can smile again and not have to apologize for it. I don’t have to contain my own light so as not to outshine anyone else who happily asserts their power to snuff it out.
That message felt a little pointed. But only in the best way.
We — collective we, as there were five Gemini goddesses present at my favorite restaurant last night for a collective birthday celebration — spoke of raising our vibrations and how we (me specifically) need to attract better neighbors … people who appreciate our ideas and experience … and better leadership as high as the national and international level.
I’m calling upon the universe for help. It’s time. It’s beyond time.
Later she asked me what “my type” is. And I thought, hmm, do I have one? Do I dare aspire to define what I might want, like I could actually get it?
So I told her. And the list went on. I have a look I like, and I said “financially smart, too.”
She’s like slow down, girl. Men don’t have that much to offer. Start small.
Hard to raise your vibration to get what you want when you have to keep your expectations so low. I excel in not expecting anything at all. But look where that’s gotten me.
It may not be time to dream big, but to start dreaming again at all, I guess.
There was a trait in someone I used to know.
Not a good one. Trait or person.
He’d ask how you were doing … what you’re doing this weekend … what you did last weekend ….
But he didn’t care. Or listen. He was just waiting for his turn to talk.
And when I start to miss him, I realize his replacement does the same damn thing.
Now if I keep my eyes closed he looks just like you
But he’ll never stay, they never do
Now if I keep my eyes closed he feels just like you
But you’ve been replaced
I’m face to face with someone new
— Halsey, “Eyes Closed”
Unfortunately the replacement will keep asking till you say something.
And at least the original one did have interesting stories. That is certainly not the case anymore.
I can’t believe the thing I miss is the original’s gift for making conversation when no one hates small talk more than I do.
When will I ever learn?
Without my boss leaving and our Steve Bannon burning our life’s work to the ground…
I would never have made it to my friend’s dad’s memorial service one county north of here.
I was already an hour south of this midpoint area. And I never left earlier than 7 pm.
Now I’m no longer all that special. So I could bounce at a good hour and make it up there for six to be with her on the saddest day of her life.
Now to find another advantage to all this change. Day 54 and, thankfully, counting.
But it will take a minute to get there.
I was pondering the value of anti-harassment training when the (rumored) biggest offender isn’t even there.
Then it hit me. Where did that rumor originate?
From the same shit-stirrer who tells everyone how “negative” I am — and everybody else is.
That is the one who very publicly branded this person as an offender.
So …
What if all the talk about the alleged offender being an offender is just plain wrong too?
I mean, I think the person is fine. Cordial at least. I don’t know much else. Professional as far as I can tell.
And really, I’d trust my judgment over anyone else’s. So I’m going to make my own decision there.
Shame others don’t seem to follow my logic.