Caterwauling

First, best birthday cake ever. Big props to my awesome boss for going to 22 bakeries till he not only got me a white cake …. But an amazing white cake. Omg so good. 
  
It was a pleasant distraction from being continually amazed at how dumb and combative someone can be. 

Also it was nice to be all sweetened up before learning I’m now entangled in a legal matter to somehow testify in favor of laughable, moronic, idiotic and comical bulkshit. 

We’ve wasted our top minds in the company for a month on this. Not like I could leave the other duties in anyone’s hands so I’ve had both roles, of problem-solver and apparently problem-creator since I can’t do it all and I can’t do it all right. 

My top alibi is burned out over getting blamed for some things that went wrong. I’m sick that my reactions, while in the best interest of the customers, may harm the business. My best sidekick is going to rip the eyelashes out of the world’s least useful because they had one set of easy tasks to do while we did the real stuff and they fucked it all up. 

If not for cake, this day would be better on fire. But cake is awesome. And somehow it is enough to come back and try again tomorrow. 

I’m just not sure what’s going to save the day after the cake is gone. 

New rule.

Either learn something if it kills you.

Or else I get to kill you.

In case you haven’t noticed my recent “I’m going to be positive if it kills me” theme, here’s another.

I used to have this pre-market project. I’ve always had pre-market projects, no matter where I’ve gone. You generally make the junior person on the team do them. I mean, that’s how I got my first one.

But alas, when you want it right AND you want it Wednesday (and Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday), you just add it to your list.

Besides, when it comes to who you can count on, ding! ding! ding! I’m your girl.

Anyway that project went away (and a temporary Sunday one popped up in its place. Which, I pick weekdays any day) and I’ve still been on the early shift. Just because.

But with the neighbors going nuts all night, and then the one night of them being quiet I was awake in FEAR of when they would start, I’ve been coming in about 20 minutes later than usual.

And it’s been glorious.

Glorious, I tell you.

So, there. Something else positive from me.

Any more miracles and all I’ll have to do is die to achieve my sainthood.

I have cousins coming to visit that I haven’t seen in 20 years. On a Thursday. In Fort Myers. 

The joke I have with HR is that we have to give everyone the day off so I can enjoy my day off without sheer terror at what will happen. 

In other words, guess who won’t be able to see her cousins. 

Revelation.

The people who irritate you just by breathing (make it staaaahhhhpp) were put in your life for a reason.

Consider my last apartment. I should have moved sooner. For six years I should have moved sooner. Then they made it unbearable to the point of no air/windows for six months and constant construction.

I like to call it life’s ejector seat. If you don’t get out of where you’re not supposed to be, then life will KICK YOU OUT.

Not that the new place is much of a prize, what with upstairs crackheads and now people taking my assigned parking spot and also folks being unable to operate the trash chute so they leave their shit on the floor.

In any event, I wonder if the fish tank that makes me so absolutely fucking nuts is put on this earth to change me.

To make me stronger/better.

Or to eject me.

I haven’t decided yet.

But while I’m awake at night thanks to the screaming (upstairs and in my own head), these are the thoughts I think.

Maybe the discomfort of the fish tank really serves to cover up for some other things that made my eyelids twitch. Removing the fish tank, say, means I would have to deal with other things that need to be cleaned up.

Hmm.

It’s past 1 a.m.  Awakened to the sound of screaming. Unfortunately it was coming from me. 

I worry that my soul won’t find peace even in death. 

Well, my death anyway. I can pick a few people whose demise might bring me a little relief. 

When you opt not to care about what you can’t control, life immediately improves. 

The gods smiled upon me and hired me some help for my new Sunday night projects. It’s glorious.

I’m awaiting the results of the projects. I went ahead and did the work anyway just in case. But I’m confident I’ll get a great result from the new guy and not have to use my versions.

So, that’s two awesome hires in the last month. I’m pretty happy. More than pretty happy. Over-freaking-joyed, I tell you.

I know a lot of people who are intimidated by hiring smarter and more experienced people than them.

But if I were to very honestly write down the list of people I’ve worked with who were junior to me, and the list of who were senior to me, I think they’d all agree that my strength was in managing the stars rather than developing future ones.

I have been doing a ton of thinking these past few weeks. I used to be convinced that I’d end up as an expert in organizational leadership. That I’d be the CEO of my own firm at some point. That I’d be traveling to share my wit and wisdom with people like me all over the world.

That can still happen. Right after I become a novelist. 😉

But I always toe the lines between “I love what I do now” and “There are people who do it better than me” and “Not too shabby for a person who wanted to be a traveling spokesperson/novelist.”

I think what has always held me back from too much success is myself. And my damn mouth. I used to rage against injustice, and tick people off. Now I rage against other things.

What I need to do is to pretend no one else in the world exists. To advocate for myself. Or to just shut the hell up about it all and trust that the universe has a place for a passionate loudmouth with a big heart and a small intolerance for things that impede big progress.

What I also need to do is stop blogging because it makes me nervous. There may be room in the universe for me, but maybe not in the universe I want to be in that involves people who can look the other way every time I need them to.

I got really bad service at a restaurant yesterday.

The meals being either wrong or someone else’s were one thing. But when the server walked away while I was explaining what we did order, I had a revelation.

I don’t think people want to screw up. Self included. But we do.

Maybe it’s time for everyone to temper their expectations.

I expect the world of myself. I am comfortable with people expecting the same of me.

Truth is, I don’t always hit their goals or mine. Or come close. And I am pretty good about beating myself up about it. Both the not hitting the goals or not understanding/knowing them.

I’m going to make a promise myself to go easier on people. I mean generally I try to show grace. But I boil inside.

So this month — yes, I said month — I’m going to keep my temperature below 212 degrees Fahrenheit.

Not try to keep. Keep.

I just watched a movie (“I’ll See You in My Dreams”) and the moral is basically we all end up dead and alone anyway. Might as well not live in stress, too. And hey, maybe a Sam Elliott lookalike will end up briefly on my doorstep, too …

It is past 1 a.m.  The lunatics are screaming again. 

Mom keeps taking mini strokes. The cat needs Prozac. I nod off at my desk. 

I sleep in on weekends now. They can scream for six or eight hours before they pass out. 

I lose my whole day on Sundays. But it beats being up and trying to work on two hours’ rest (nightmares notwithstanding).

I cannot have dumbfuckery. Cannot. Cannot. This place costs too motherfucking much. Wonder if I can get evicted for complaining too much?