Monday= Major Attitude Adjustment Day.
I've thrown what little I had left of a "normal" sleeping pattern way out of sync. I was up until well after 5 a.m. The kitchen staff of the restaurant across the way had begun their daily convoy into the parking lot behind me to get breakfast ready. Each time a pair of light beams rounded the corner, I asked myself, "What the hell are you doing?"
I wasn't sure of the answer.
I've got to get it together. I can't afford to have these pity parties for myself anymore. And, I absolutely have to quit letting things that people I don't respect have to say about me. Kim had told me, during our marathon conversation, about some things an ex-coworker had to say. Mind you, I haven't worked there in months, and I would think that this ex-coworker would have more substantial and timely things to talk about, like maybe the election, or raking leaves. I'll call her "Cybil," partially out of spite, and partially in honor of the fact that she does have many faces, personalities, and is a bit nuts.
Cybil said she heard I had a drug problem. What? I don't even spoke pot! And, I barely take an aspirin if I have a headache! The only drugs I might have a problem with are nicotine and coffee... and I've got a good handle on both of those. In fact, I've never been arrested for using either of them! Cybil is 34... and wasted at the bar every night, usually exposing her obnoxiously large fake breasts and making fun of other people. She dates a police officer, so she is immune to arrest for drinking and driving.
She continued on saying she couldn't understand why I would buy the house that I had if I couldn't afford to get it just the way I wanted in two years. You should never do that according to her. Well, Cybil, I've only just lived here a year, and I like my house just fine. I bought a house that I was sure I could afford. Period. Cybil and her boyfriend live in a "smelly" apartment above a garage (that she doesn't pay for) while he continues to work on a house he purchased some eight years ago... She also couldn't believe I would buy one in "that" neighborhood. Cybil used to own a house several city blocks away that was often visited by the local drug addicts and hookers. Huh. Never had a hooker stop by for tea. Cybil also makes at least double what I had made, and was never able to pay her bills.
The rational me knows that Cybil puts down others to make herself feel better due to her raging insecurity. The rational me knows that I made the choices that were right for me and my life; and I've never been preoccupied with "keeping up with the Joneses." That is what Cybil doesn't understand. The rational me doesn't give a damn whether Cybil understands.
Kim defended me. And that was nice. However, when I had gotten off the phone with her, I really wanted to call Cybil and set her straight. How dare she say I had a drug problem!?!? In fact, she even got mad and labelled me "bitchy" because "she never went out with us." Um... you were always going to the BAR! During my employment there, I was saving money for my house, working on my house, and taking college courses. Sorry that getting wasted at 36 wasn't on top of my priority list. And if I truly had a drug problem... wouldn't I have thoroughly embraced any and all opportunities to get "fucked up?"
I'm letting that out in an attempt to let it go. As much as I fought it, it honestly pissed me off. In my entire existence, I have never understood gossip. It caused me a great deal of pain as a young girl. At the ripe old age of twelve, a few ninth-grade girls were calling me a "whore" because the ninth-grade boys they had crushes on thought I was cute. I hadn't kissed a boy. Didn't know what "whore" meant. I didn't even know I was "pretty." And I certainly didn't understand why someone would say such hurtful things about you, if they weren't even true.
Anyway, back to the present...
I elected not to go to the job site I previously telephone- interviewed for today. I want to be fresh, rested, positive and confident. By the end of the day, today, I will find a way to erase the negativity I have let creep into my being, and I will regain some courage, commitment, confidence and charisma. I will go there tomorrow morning.
I've got a lot on my plate, and nothing is to be gained by punishing myself for feeling a little defeated and disappointed for two days. I'm definitely my worst enemy at times. Dr. Phil has often said (yes I know he's not really a doctor) "You teach people how to treat you." If we aren't kind to ourselves... can we really expect others to be kind to us? And what a world it would be if kindness were more mainstream! My friend Chey and I were talking about some painful things months ago, and something she said has echoed in my mind ever since:
"We've got to start being kind to each other!" Amen.
I've thrown what little I had left of a "normal" sleeping pattern way out of sync. I was up until well after 5 a.m. The kitchen staff of the restaurant across the way had begun their daily convoy into the parking lot behind me to get breakfast ready. Each time a pair of light beams rounded the corner, I asked myself, "What the hell are you doing?"
I wasn't sure of the answer.
I've got to get it together. I can't afford to have these pity parties for myself anymore. And, I absolutely have to quit letting things that people I don't respect have to say about me. Kim had told me, during our marathon conversation, about some things an ex-coworker had to say. Mind you, I haven't worked there in months, and I would think that this ex-coworker would have more substantial and timely things to talk about, like maybe the election, or raking leaves. I'll call her "Cybil," partially out of spite, and partially in honor of the fact that she does have many faces, personalities, and is a bit nuts.
Cybil said she heard I had a drug problem. What? I don't even spoke pot! And, I barely take an aspirin if I have a headache! The only drugs I might have a problem with are nicotine and coffee... and I've got a good handle on both of those. In fact, I've never been arrested for using either of them! Cybil is 34... and wasted at the bar every night, usually exposing her obnoxiously large fake breasts and making fun of other people. She dates a police officer, so she is immune to arrest for drinking and driving.
She continued on saying she couldn't understand why I would buy the house that I had if I couldn't afford to get it just the way I wanted in two years. You should never do that according to her. Well, Cybil, I've only just lived here a year, and I like my house just fine. I bought a house that I was sure I could afford. Period. Cybil and her boyfriend live in a "smelly" apartment above a garage (that she doesn't pay for) while he continues to work on a house he purchased some eight years ago... She also couldn't believe I would buy one in "that" neighborhood. Cybil used to own a house several city blocks away that was often visited by the local drug addicts and hookers. Huh. Never had a hooker stop by for tea. Cybil also makes at least double what I had made, and was never able to pay her bills.
The rational me knows that Cybil puts down others to make herself feel better due to her raging insecurity. The rational me knows that I made the choices that were right for me and my life; and I've never been preoccupied with "keeping up with the Joneses." That is what Cybil doesn't understand. The rational me doesn't give a damn whether Cybil understands.
Kim defended me. And that was nice. However, when I had gotten off the phone with her, I really wanted to call Cybil and set her straight. How dare she say I had a drug problem!?!? In fact, she even got mad and labelled me "bitchy" because "she never went out with us." Um... you were always going to the BAR! During my employment there, I was saving money for my house, working on my house, and taking college courses. Sorry that getting wasted at 36 wasn't on top of my priority list. And if I truly had a drug problem... wouldn't I have thoroughly embraced any and all opportunities to get "fucked up?"
I'm letting that out in an attempt to let it go. As much as I fought it, it honestly pissed me off. In my entire existence, I have never understood gossip. It caused me a great deal of pain as a young girl. At the ripe old age of twelve, a few ninth-grade girls were calling me a "whore" because the ninth-grade boys they had crushes on thought I was cute. I hadn't kissed a boy. Didn't know what "whore" meant. I didn't even know I was "pretty." And I certainly didn't understand why someone would say such hurtful things about you, if they weren't even true.
Anyway, back to the present...
I elected not to go to the job site I previously telephone- interviewed for today. I want to be fresh, rested, positive and confident. By the end of the day, today, I will find a way to erase the negativity I have let creep into my being, and I will regain some courage, commitment, confidence and charisma. I will go there tomorrow morning.
I've got a lot on my plate, and nothing is to be gained by punishing myself for feeling a little defeated and disappointed for two days. I'm definitely my worst enemy at times. Dr. Phil has often said (yes I know he's not really a doctor) "You teach people how to treat you." If we aren't kind to ourselves... can we really expect others to be kind to us? And what a world it would be if kindness were more mainstream! My friend Chey and I were talking about some painful things months ago, and something she said has echoed in my mind ever since:
"We've got to start being kind to each other!" Amen.
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