Of all the blogs in this town, you had to walk into mine

February 17th, 2020, 8:35 AM by Goddess

I read that Michael Bloomberg is hiring malignant narcissists and comedy writers to serve on his communications team. You know, to appeal to the deplorables. It’s genius, really.

Just writing it here in case a couple of Floridians need a job. It’s one of those rare times when I would give a throaty recommendation.

Speaking of, I was literally at my new job three days when someone from my past decided that they need a job there. They declared to a fellow industry friend that I’d be the one to get them in.

I laughed.

Then my new publisher called. You know, because word travels THAT fast.

I did one of my usual, super great person and easy to work with. The kind of person you tell them what to do, and they do it.

Code for: Interesting but not compelling.

Literally the guy was my boss three days and he said, hmm. “What is it you always say, Goddess? Interesting but not compelling?”

Further validation of my recent life choices.

In any event, I am reminding myself that words matter. You never know what’s going to get through to someone. And you really never know what’s going to wound them. Or their reputation. Or, you know, their personal economy.

As for me, maybe I’ve encountered enough mean-spirited fools over a lifetime that I can take most everything with a grain of salt and glass full of margarita on the rocks.

But I got to thinking about my MN from the past. The comment I’ve been sitting on for 20 years … the one that will shut that person up forever.

Funny I’ve never used it. I’ve needed it. I’ve wanted it. I’ve had occasion. But even I don’t want that level of regret in my heart for hurting that particular person.

As Aaron Burr sang in “Hamilton,” he’ll forever be the villain in Alexander Hamilton’s story.

[Gotta love when the self-appointed victims realize the role they create in our lives.]

Funny also that my latest MN has used a similar dig on me twice now. The one too low for even me to bring up to someone else who actually put my physical and mental and economic status in jeopardy.

So maybe words don’t matter.

But the fact that I still care how they land means there’s hope for me yet.

Be well. Be blessed. And please, for the love of God, be gone.