Maybe you suck less now

I was thinking about people I’ve cut off, friends and lovers and those in between.

My means of survival is to walk away, shut the door, and keep going forward.

But a pandemic year running smack into a weird year for my personal health and well-being had me wondering about some people out there. Ruminating. Pondering.

Do you gossip less?

Do you cheat less?

Do you tell fewer lies?

Do you value things that can’t be bought?

Do you order the banana split because carpe diem and wear the crazy sweater because you love it and who cares about what anyone else thinks of it?

I’m not ringing those phones, sending those texts, or firing off those emails of inquiry. Just thinking.

I miss the good stuff. I don’t miss the shit show of pain that rained down on me for having some of you in my life for a while. But, yeah, the good was so ridiculously good, wasn’t it?

I had a dream I was calling these people to ask if they loved like I do. In my dream, I was using a flip phone for a while, then a Blackberry. I wanted to know. I want to know. Do you love like I do yet?

Thoughts After a Health Scare

We get wake-up calls along the way in life, nudges from the universe to pay attention.  The loss of a loved one is a wake-up call.  A health scare is another reminder that life is short.

Let me start by sharing that I work 3 jobs and 2 side hustles.  Most weekdays I work from shortly after I wake up until I go to bed.  This is not something I do to wow and dazzle others with my dedication; it’s a necessity to survive at this point.  Weekends typically involve some work, too, no matter how hard I try to keep the grind to weekdays.

I get my annual doctor’s visits done.  I believe in early awareness of health issues so you can turn them around if possible.  In this year’s visits, there was an “anomaly.” The anomaly led to more diagnostic exams and visits where healthcare professionals were careful not to get my hopes up at any point.  The diagnostic exams led to biopsy and pathology.  Ultimately, there was nothing to be alarmed about, but in the time between biopsy and results, I thought a lot about what I want to be doing with my time.

I want time to read.  I want naps with a pile of cats and dogs.   I need to put my toes in the ocean in the early morning.  I need to walk around in places I’ve never been before, sipping coffee and people watching.  Long brunches and dinners without having to check my phone are on the list, too.  Laughter and music need to be more prevalent.  Writing and sharing what I’ve written is time well spent.  The list goes on and on, things I want and need more of in my days and nights.

Nowhere on my list was the urge to work more.  Nowhere on my list was saying “yes” when I mean “no.”

How do I get there from here? That’s the part I’m still figuring out, but I wanted to write all this down as reminder to everyone I know.  I wanted to tell you that this is it: this is our time.  There’s nothing to wait for…postponing delight for when you retire or when you lose weight or when you get a boyfriend or when you get a divorce is all wasting time.

Risky choices, like the ones I mentioned in a Facebook Live video a few weeks ago, are idiotic, and no, I will not get off my soapbox about it.  The “fun” some people are having that puts their lives on the line every time is beyond my comprehension.  Why would you want to risk never seeing another gorgeous sunrise or never smelling puppy breath or never laughing so hard your sides hurt?  I don’t get it.

We don’t live forever, and the fact is that I can’t tell anyone else what they should or shouldn’t do with their days here.  I can have an opinion, which I clearly have, and I can share it, and that’s it.

I can try to lead by example.  I can keep writing.  I can somehow find my way to the beach for a week and find calm in the repetition of the waves.  I can try to rearrange this life of mine a few more times to cut out all these extra jobs soon.  I can try.  I can be grateful that I am here to write these words with a hope and a prayer that maybe these words will inspire someone to seize this day and the next.

I wanted to get this off my chest…

…so I can move right along to something more positive.

I thought I’d seen how low someone could go, and I supported their growth and encouraged them to do more, be more and overcome the darkness…I saw the spark, the radiance, the potential of everything they could be, and I tried hard to show them that absolutely everyone is worthy of love and redemption and a second chance…

…only to find out that they still lie, still deceive, as naturally as they breathe.  I briefly considered “ruining” this person, outing their deceit, but I’m not giving it any more of my energy.  Fear not–the love of your life will inevitably be able to follow your sloppy trail without my help…or perhaps your guilt will gnaw at you, eat you alive.  I kind of think, though, that the shadiest characters feel no guilt, no remorse, and that’s what allows them to be repeat offenders.

Fuck off.  Really, just fuck off.

It’s always a sign I’m struggling…

…when I’m not writing.

When I’m overwhelmed with stress, it’s hard to even sit down and write anything for anyone, even for myself.

I decided with last night’s full moon that I was ready to release the stress, that I would do my damndest not to let the stress overflow into my personal life.  I’m letting it go.  I don’t want it.  It’s not mine.  Not my shitshow.  Putting it down.

Beyond the shitshow, things are actually going exceptionally well in Katland.  Stay tuned.

—-and on May 22, I realized that this article never posted! It got stuck in the “drafts” folder.  oops.

Job Change Panic

As the job change draws closer, I am FREAKING THE HELL OUT!

I am not a job hopper, so the change makes me nervous.

What if I don’t like it?

What if they don’t like me?

My back is out right now, has been in spasms for days…some of that can be attributed to flying in cheap seats, unable to move, for business meetings last week.  Some of it can also be attributed to fear of the unknown.  I’m trying to be present and roll with it, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous or afraid.  I totally am.  I am a bit of a wreck right now.

What’s so weird to me is that I’m telling people I’m a wreck, a total hot mess, and I’m getting “lol” type of responses.  Seriously? Like I’m hanging on by my fingernails and that merits “lol?”

This will pass, sure, as all awkward times do, but the ride is a rough one for me.

Quiet lately on here…

…but noisy in my head, I assure you!

Post inauguration, I want you to know I pretty much give zero fucks who you voted for because that can’t be changed at this point.  What can be changed is willful ignorance.  Planned Parenthood, for example, is no more an abortion clinic than your local hospital is a place to terminate your old relatives, and your tax dollars haven’t paid for an abortion  since the ’70s; stop posting your nonsense all over social media without looking up the law.  Look. Up. The. Law.  Additionally on that same note, I want to throw out there that being pro-choice does not mean pro-abortion; I want everyone woman to be able to choose what is right for her…I don’t need to decide for her.  Being pro-choice doesn’t mean we don’t take the concept of abortion and the decisions around it with great seriousness.  We are not advocating for McDonald’s to add abortions as an option on the dollar menu; it’s a big damn deal, and I want women to have choices based on their individual circumstances.

Don’t wanna march for something? Then don’t, but stfu about others marching and how wrong it was.  The beauty of the country in which we live is our freedom to dissent in a march or a protest or a sit in.  We can march.  We can wave signs.  You can wave signs back at those protesting, and protest their protest if you want.  That’s how it works here, but they can march for their beliefs if they want, and so can you.

That act you so wanted killed off? I’m not sure you understood it.  I’m not sure you understand the potential repercussions.  Maybe you do, and maybe you and yours have no pre-existing conditions or have no concerns about hitting lifetime insurance caps.

Anyway.  Largely, I’ve kept my mouth shut about it, focusing on things I can do rather than argue, but even I have my limits to how much I can take.  This week has been like, “yuck.”

I was out walking my dogs at lunch today, just an ordinary woman in yoga pants and a sweatshirt walking dogs in my own neighborhood.  A man rolled down his window at me, and screamed, “Yeahhhh, Trump!” at me.  WTF?  Dude, my dogs bite, and frankly, so do I.  This level of weirdo lunatic behavior is ridiculous.

I have other things going on as well that might be worth reporting on later, but right now, I’m concerned at how badly people are behaving in general.   You don’t have to agree with me, but pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease educate yourselves.  Read the laws.  Read the acts.  Read.  Think.  Think some more.

Some words between Xmas and NYE

The December holidays felt a little (lottle) craptacular this year.  I was the brokest (yeah, it’s a word) I’ve been in years and years, and I quite frankly couldn’t buy gifts for people.  It was just not possible, especially following some unplanned expenses.  We all talk about how this time of year, regardless of religion or lack thereof, is about family and friendship and making memories, but it’s painfully awkward when you can’t participate in the exchange of gifts.  Yes, I take care of others with gifts or meals or whatever at other times in the year whenever I can, but it was still a downer, really.  It made the whole month feel yucky.

I did what I could for my kiddo for her bday and her xmas, and then that was the end of that. It sucked.  I like giving gifts.  I like wrapping presents (or “gift bagging presents” is more accurate) and letting someone know I thought of them enough to go a little out of my way just for them.  Gift giving is nice, so it hurt my heart a little to be unable to participate.


Maybe there’s some change on the blustery winds today.  It feels like it—like something amazing might be blowing my way at last.  I would welcome a heap of good stuff, and I wish you the same.

I also wanted to type out a few words about 2016.  People say it’s a terrible year, killing off celebrities, and then others are like, well, don’t all the cops and firefighters that died matter?!?  Oy.  It makes me not even want to open Facebook because I’ll either find out someone famous died OR I’ll be swamped with posts by someone pissed that we’re not giving attention to someone else not famous who passed.  Uggg.  Ok, y’all…everyone matters.  Everyone’s death leaves a hole somewhere.  I think, though, if you get the hell off your damned high horse, you’d understand that a lot of people feel impacted when a celebrity dies because in a sense, we all felt like we “knew” a piece of this person.  When Prince died, for example, I was bummed that there would be no more new music from him; I enjoyed his talent.  That said, Prince was no more important than a cop, a fire fighter, a teacher, a garbage man, a McDonald’s employee, or anyone else.

2016 wasn’t hard for me because of celebrity deaths.  2016 was hard for me because it was hard on my wallet.  It was hard on my heart to have people I allowed to be close to me behave badly.  It was hard on my motivation and determination to run into wall after wall in my personal life and my professional life.  It was hard to see my nation/family/friends divided over a heated election, and the division is still there, still felt, long after the polls have closed.  2016 was a hard year, but not because of someone famous.  2016 was hard in all the boring ways that mean we’re human.


Some perspective

This morning, one of the folks on my team at work called me to ask what the bereavement policy is.  I said I’d be happy to look it up and send it over asap…and was there anything I could do?
My colleague choked on tears, telling me his son died in the night.

How or why doesn’t matter, does it? Yesterday his son was alive; today his son is gone.

That’s some heavy weight to start the day. Wow.

I share this because it gave me a little perspective on some things I’d been perceiving as “problems.”  Pfffft.  What problems? My loved ones are alive and well today, so what problems, really?  By comparison, everything on my plate can be overcome or endured or fixed.

I forget sometimes that my “troubles” are often really a blessing of sorts: I’m alive to complain about other people who are alive, and while they may not be doing what I envisioned of them, they are alive…alive to try again, do over, grow.  Yeah.  Deep breath in and a deep breath outttttttt.

Would you accept the invitation?

I have been having a rough time lately…the usual kinds of challenges that we all face personally and professionally, but the challenges feel amplified by the holidays. I asked the Universe to give me a break, to cut me some slack please pleeeeeease.

I received an invitation out of the blue…an invitation to dance. I don’t dance! I am a mosh pit brawler, but I am not a dancer. I am clumsy. I felt embarrassed just reading the invitation, and I was thissssclose to sending my regrets that I couldn’t attend.

I paused, thinking this was such an unusual invitation. Had I ever in my life been invited to a dance outside of high school? I couldn’t remember ever receiving such an invitation. Maybe the Universe was trying to give me an opportunity to feel differently this holiday season by doing something different?

I deleted my regrets, and replied that I didn’t know how to do the dances, but that I would be willing to give it a go. I hit send before I could chicken out.

The venue was a stone manor built in the 1920’s. It looks like a castle. Inside there are large stone fireplaces, high ceilings, chandeliers, and a ballroom. I found myself standing in that ballroom, a Cinderella with two left feet, and I considered excusing myself under the guise of a restroom visit to run away before the festivities started. I talked myself into staying.

The waltz. I stepped on my partner’s feet. I laughed. I stepped on his feet some more and laughed a lot, some of it nervous and some of the laughter the glee of a kid with a new toy…and then for a few gorgeous minutes, I got it. I was waltzing, waltzing until I was dizzy!

The English country dances. I didn’t know any of the lingo when we started, but I soon caught on well enough to follow along for most of the dances. I wasn’t graceful or elegant, but I was delighted. I had a different partner for every dance, and every partner taught me something I didn’t know, every partner gracious and forgiving of my newbie status.

The hours passed in a flash. I haven’t laughed so much in a long time, and I haven’t been so challenged by trying some completely foreign in a long time.

Later in bed, I realized in all those hours under the chandeliers, I hadn’t given my troubles a single thought. My previously tight, tense shoulders were relaxed. The Universe had given me a break and cut me some slack, granting me a fabulous day that I would long remember.

Would you have accepted the invitation to the dance, or the equivalent, that popped up out of nowhere? I am glad I did.