Happy with my handful!
January 29, 2016 So this year in July I'm gonna be 42. In September I'll be married for 20 years. None of these things are bothering me, I swear. What's bothering me is the reality of mortality. I didn't know Natalie Cole, David Bowie, Celine Dion's husband, Alan Rickman and anybody else who died over the last couple weeks. I wasn't crying or at candle light vigils making believe I was heartbroken. What bothered me most is their ages. Is it just me or doesn't mid 60's seem too soon? Or am I just living in lala land thinking that 90 is the appropriate age to finally accept death? I'm not old! I'm not knocking on whatever door I'm sent when I do die. I won't go fighting though. I'm not ashamed of anything or how I've chosen to live my life. I have secrets. I also am an open book. Yes yes, I know that doesn't make sense but a person has to have a few secrets in her life but she also has to be an open book so the people around me know exactly what they're getting. I have a handful of friends that I am proud to have. They don't judge, they wouldn't let me do anything stupid but at the end of the day, these friends are mine and by god I'm perfectly happy I can count on one hand those true friends. I was asked what that means for the other people I am friends with and its a simple concept. If I like you then I'm gonna be your friend. I'll defend you, I'll help you, I'll be your friend. What's the difference? Well somewhere along the line, if you're that friend not in my hand, you've fucked me over. You've made the decision that I don't belong at your lunch table or thought you found a better table. I won't argue with you, I won't even point out your mistake of fucking me over. If I don't like you, you're gonna know it. If I talk shit behind your back and it somehow gets back to you, I'll be the one person saying, "Yep! That's what I said! And here's why..." The last couple of months I've had to craft almost a 2 page list of days I'm not available to work. 2 freaking pages. There's not one thing on those 2 pages that involve me or something I can call mine. It's a busy year for us and by us let's just be honest and say us is the girls. So of course after the last couple of months both me and my husband have thought, "What about me?" Selfish? Maybe. But I think most would say it wasn't cause we need just as much attention or a reason to be on a list for unavailability dammit! My husband works extremely hard and by God I think he's amazing and appreciate him. I work part time and that's a rule set by both me AND my hard-working husband because if I do anymore it consumes me. I come home thinking about work. I come home complaining about work. I worry something won't get done. It's taken me over 15 years to finally find the magic number but 24 is it. I'm not stopping robberies, solving murders or diagnosing diseases but I am coming in contact with people who I've known for awhile. Some are sick with the normal crap. Some are dying. Some are trying to fill their Norco early and hoping I'll do it. (I never do by the way) I also care about my co-workers. Yes, even the ones who shall remain nameless that attended a Trump rally. I really care about those people. Over the last month it was suggested to try and step back from that too. It's not a bitch thing. It's a self preservation thing. And you know what? My husband has totally noticed that I come home smiling. I clock in, do my job as best as I can and how they expect me to, and clock out. I'm not gonna care anymore when I'm not at work. Nobody's paying me for that time but both my kids and husband are. He reminded me that I'm good at what I do and it has nothing to do with how much time I spend there or the relationships I try to grow from there. He reminded me that it was that exact same mistake I made 9 years ago when I came home crying and quit the next day. We all know I'd be severely depressed if I didn't work and I truly thank the fact that I have a job and have customers that I wanna help and co-workers that I appreciate and they return that when I'm there. Did any of this make sense? If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.