Rushed

Today, I was in pain. I was laid out on the bed, tired as I dragged myself to the couch, and exhausted as I flipped through endless channels to find the perfect relaxation film/TV show.

Sometime around 6pm, I decided it was a good time to go do some *small* chores which involved picking up some TP and visiting the customer service desk at the local grocery store. I should have known that simple and small are not my life's forte.

True - going to the grocery store is a normal task that any American can and will probably do on a regular basis. However, the *fun* ensued when I could not find my traveling partner who had left the customer service desk to get a head start on the shopping.

I walked back and forth through the length of the store three times - only to find her at the checkout counter... which is right in the vicinity of the customer service desk.

Add to all this the fact that I was already much in pain and only borrowing pain-free time from the medicine I took. Did I mention that it was snowing and the ground was covered with a nice mixture of snow/salt/slush melt?

As I approached her, I dropped my frustration (I hate being lost or not finding someone) to find out that the purchases would probably be better made by me. Note that I didn't really have enough money to pay for all of this... but I was going to be reimbursed, so I didn't give it a second thought. I concluded that this would be my hardest task of the day. I was proven wrong within seconds.

I began checking out, getting a little extra dough to do some laundry later. I was thinking that maybe I could use my free day on Tuesday to just catch up on some work. Well, I thought "Wait, this is finals week!" That's right... finals week. What does that mean? If you're a student, that means that you have NO regular schedule anymore. Finals are scheduled according to some cryptic system and what you thought was a simple schedule that you fought hard to memorize, becomes obsolete thanks to the new system/style of "Hey, this is when we're going to schedule your final... no, it's not during classtime." This is mostly done because finals are 2 hours long. I think they should be the entire length of class... at least you'll not have to figure out where you're going. But I digress.

I went to the customer service desk to get change - another *easy* task, and then began to discover that what I *thought* was just a simple conversation about laundry turned into an "oh sh*t" moment. Basically, that meant that I needed to rethink some things. Now.

Laundry got moved from Tuesday to Monday to TONIGHT. Then booking an airline. Looking for more change at last minute because some dumb f*ck opened the dryer and let the time run out. Then figuring out that - OMG - I have to find a place to board my rabbit since no airline really wants to risk having such an innocent fluffy bunny on their insurance policy. Oh, and I almost forgot... calling the cell phone company to plead for a push on my bill to this Friday (thank goodness, they did).

All-in-all, I feel like I just pushed myself, rushed everything, and ended up putting my body through a blender. Not to mention that I need to also get time for my body to heal from all the sh*t I put it through last week. Oh, and my weekend is almost gone... I'm working on Saturday.

I don't regret the reasons why I did things... just the way that they were done. I feel like there's got to be a better way for me to get certain things done/accomplished. I feel like if someone says "oops, I forgot", then good ol' me has to come back in and fix everything (Yessuh, massa... I'ze got cho reeport rite heer, suh).

I cried. I cried for about an hour, total. I cried at first because I felt so sh*tty about everything and that I didn't really have the energy to pick up my legs after the first half hour. I cried again because I could do nothing but yell (this was after a sudden trip I had to make to campus because I forgot to print out my timesheet and it was either do it now or get up at 7am and try to do it then). I cried a third time because I have let myself and my bunny down because now I'm going to have to board him on OUR FIRST CHRISTMAS TOGETHER instead of just driving him down there to Texas like I should have done in the first damn place.

I felt like a lump of nothing. And I rushed myself... I rushed into everything thinking that if I just did it faster, that everything would be done sooner. And it was.

Worried about money

This might be a long post, so don't say I didn't warn you.

Ever since I can remember, I've been worried about money. Mostly, because my parents didn't have any and no one was really trying to help out. The guy that knocked up my mom didn't really give a sh*t enough to pay child support until the state forced him to - when I was 15. I don't know what to say much about the other siblings fathers. The last one is still with the family and whom I affectionately call "Dad". The middle one, well - let's just say that his family made up for his losses.

So, my mom escaped from a literally messy, abusive household. She told me tales about how my grandfather owned this-or-that and how she had one of those kid driving cars before they were popular and at Wal-Mart. To this day, she's managed to keep some of those treasures. One of which I am hiding safely for her.

So, you can guess that in 1975, there wasn't much in the way of "women's rights" or protection available to the midwest. Especially right smack in the buckle of the bible belt. They would have said, "Well, that's what you get for having children out of wedlock." They couldn't really see past their lace-decorated turtlenecks or blouse-fronts.

I feel like, now, I've learned a lot about money. I thought that it was only bequeathed to those who "knew it all" or had kind, generous hearts. WRONG! Snobby rich bastards with their thumbs up their butt have MILLIONS of dollars to play with... and have never stepped foot in a Wal-Mart, let alone a grocery store.

(no offense, GHWB... you are quite rich, though)

So, what does that have to say about my tiny little world of poverty that I've been in? Nothing. I've just been in this tiny little world. What do I know about being rich?! I've never been rich! All I know is what they say about people with money - how they never have to deal with doing their taxes every year... how they get to sit back and just choose what they want to see on Netflix without a single thought (if they have that... maybe they have satellite superbeams or something, I don't know)... how they once thought about helping out a starving child in Africa covered in flies with a runny nose all dried up on their face.

What I do know is that I've tried, for years, to be rich. I started off by making sure that I was successful in school. Because what do they say every year when they visit one of the poorest schools in the midwestern region? "Stay in school, don't do drugs, and you'll be a success. Just like me!!!"

So guess what my little naive a** did. Yep. I stayed in school. I quibbled over every grade lower than a B- (really a B, but who's counting now?!). I started being in afterschool programs because "the good colleges like well-rounded people." I sucked at sports - royally - so I took up band like any good nerd would. I hid my identity to people. I tried to not say that I was "from the projects" because then ladies would tighten up their purses like I was a little street urchin in a pageboy hat.

I was in soooo many summer programs that I can't even really count them right now. I was trying to be in girl scouts, but that costs money (and seeing that I'm gay now, that probably wouldn't have went over well). I did everything that I thought I could - for free - to establish myself with the wealthier society.

(Yes, this was my theme song... except I was never considered a sex symbol)

Pretty much... I was boring. There was nothing you could get me to do. I couldn't wait to look down my nose at all those a**holes who made my life a living hell with mocking the way I dressed, what I said, the way I said it, and all the other things that I thought would make me successful that they hated.

I got to college, not necessarily the one I wanted, but I figured that if I just "put my mind to it", I would be successful in no time. I had my resume done and primed with all type of organizations that I led, my GPA in college and high school, how well I did in whatever I was good at (mostly Math and Science) and I was just waiting for Southwestern Bell, IBM, Microsoft, or some company to just come knocking at my door with a well-dressed executive begging me to reconsider their offer.

Well, that... and the private jets... and the fabulous meeting rooms... and the private bathroom had to wait. Little did I know, you need money to even GET to those type of jobs. I mean, you're a poor street urchin and there's 1os of 1,000s of you in New York City that can blow you out of the water. At least a hundred alone in my competitor city of Chicago. I felt like crap.

(this is the foundation that I received a college scholarship through...
mine was from the St. Louis/Gateway branch...
it's about 9 minutes long)

So, you can see that through all my nerdiness, scholarship opportunities (I received several from different universities... only about 2 of them were full [pay for everything] scholarships), and just plain knowing how to stand up straight and speak clearly, I think I didn't really have the advantages that I needed to succeed. The one thing missing? State of mind. I had NOTHING to keep me from going into my hereditary depression (which shows itself at around the age of 20 once kids hit college).

I suffered enormous losses in memory. I was already missing class due to a possible diagnosis of endometriosis. I was prepared for the endormetriosis as my mother had it all throughout her high school career and missed classes, too. I wrote a note to each faculty member to explain the issue before classes even started (yes, I TOLD you I was a nerd and goody two-shoes).

I had a solidified relationship with a boy for about 5+ years. He was nice and protective. We went to the same school and I thought, "Psh, I can breeze through the classes here, get a good degree, then go to a graduate school and maybe think about getting my doctorate."

That was all about 10 years ago. Now, I'm sitting in a one-bedroom apartment.

(what I expected... and how I was... except replace the "platonic boyfriend" with a real one...
not much of a story now, is it?)

So, enough with the "Woah as me, my life didn't turn out the way that I expected" drama. My main point is this: I feel lied to. I feel hoodwinked, swindled, and run amuck. I wasted the best part of my years AND - not to mention - MY CHILDHOOD running after a dream that didn't really ever come true. Here I am, 35 (almost), expecting to be retired because I worked my a** off... and what I really am is just one paycheck away from being broke (well, I'm broke now, but you get the gist).

I'm just angry, confused, and tired of fighting over little pennies like a coop full of hens fighting over corn. I really just want to live my life, help others in need get to where I am, and then go about my business - not hurting anyone, not harming anyone.

I, essentially, feel like I failed. That I just went about this all wrong. I feel like I have to explain to people that I've been working non-stop every year since the age of 10 (really) to be successful and have not really taken a vacation or time off from it. I just keep going, hoping - dreaming, really - that one day, ALL of this work will pay off. And it never does. So I keep going. Driven by some imaginary dream that was instilled by a guy in a suit from IBM (I should have known better when I found out that they worked for the Nazis - no offense... just anger).

So, I put all my anger in words on this page - hoping that, one day, I'll be able to read back through them and have this, "OMG, I've been doing it wrong" moment.

(this was me, right after I lost my job at a huge law-firm that gave me things like Christmas bonuses and stuff... still waiting for that "moment", btw)

So, that's my story. A sorry, saggy sap just waiting for God, Buddha, someone to tap me on the shoulder and say, "Here... here ya go. You're ready now. This is what you've been asking for." Until then, I'll just hang around here until the universe tells me to go. Oh, and don't worry - I'm not one of those angry people who just sit around on their hineys and don't try to do anything to change their life. I'll keep trying, researching, experimenting with different things in the meanwhile. I'm sure that when my time comes, I'll hit it big.

Trippin' on insane sh*t

Yesterday, I spent a good portion of the meeting time I had explaining the difference between responsibility, empathy, and selfishness.

My problem is that I've grown to expect people to be selfish. Not in the "the world, she's mine (evil laugh)" sort of way. Moreso in the "I have no idea what I'm doing in life, so I'm going to push and bully people until I do."

When I started out in the work force when I was 14 years old, I knew nothing about people, places (other than my own), and how to work my way around either. I felt like a virtual blackhole of nothingness was my key to success. Maybe they'd take me innocent, I'd say, and then just let me be.

Well, what I found was that the world is full of rapist, robbers, and catty people. All of them are disguised in different ways. Think of the "to catch a predator" sort of way... most people in the nice jackets, clean-shaven, wanting to say "please" and "thank you" are the sort that get little kids and lock them up in rooms. I was scared of all of them.

And that fear, it taught me a valuable lesson... don't trust anyone more than you can throw them. And I'm small... which means I can't throw ANYONE.

Anywho, back to my story:

After explaining time and time again that people around here tend to be less likely to show some sort of simple compassion, I essentially had to break it down like this:

* Siblings: People who have siblings, especially ones that they have to take care of, know how to show empathy. They have to feel how their sibling must be feeling in order to understand what to do to take care of them. One step further - they now have to know how to take care of THEMSELVES in order to know how to take care of their sibling.

* Only children - People who have grown up fortunate enough to not really have to ever watch anyone in their whole entire young adult life have developed a Me-First attitude. Moreso of the extremer kind that screams "HEY YOU, YOU LOOK AT ME! DAMN IT! LOOK - AT - MEEE!"

I'd explain away that "Oh, this isn't every circumstance." or "Hey, some people grow up differently..." but I 'm REALLY tired of the bullsh*t surrounding people who are too selfish, immature, and just downright stupid about being too selfish. I know I repeated that... you have no idea how much selfishness attitude I've gotten lately.

Let's take in point the scenario when I ask for help. People think, "Hey, I wonder if *such and such* already asked *insert organization here." and then they ask me, right? No. They say, "Hey, Buttface... you shoulda checked *insert organization* (snicker, snicker, along with their stupid ass friends)". Yeah, that's high school. Doesn't STOP at high school.

So, why haven't I gone batsh*t crazy, stood on a tower, and just tried to blow up something? Maybe because I'm just angry enough to know that there are certain stupid people who keep their stupidness to their circle (thank god) and that some day, those same stupid people will have a baby, cousin, or little brother that will give them a RUN FOR THEIR MONEY. Why? Because I've seen it happen time and time again in my life. I've just got ONE MORE PERSON that I'd LOVE to see smacked the sh*t out of that is a relative... you know who you are.

So, where does this lead me all to? Just to say that people are stupid, have no responsibility, and getting stupider year by year (there are studies on that one). The internet phase has come and gone. And now, people are - more than ever - hiding behind their glass-encased ceilings of hierarchy and solitude, just waiting for some dumb sleuth to try to find their way into their little pristine cage.

All that said, I'm really tired of dealing with these people. The only thing I can do is surround myself with love (namely my bun and certain people) and just hope/pray that they (whoever they are) will come to their senses and stop acting like a stupid b*tch.