I love it when I meet someone and they’ve already had a predisposed opinion of me that was defined by a picture that someone else painted in their mind.  I love it even more when they realize I’m really not what they had been led to believe I was.

Maybe if we all took a little time to hear both sides of a story, made the effort to form an opinion AFTER we have all the facts, or simply took the time to really get to know someone, this wouldn’t be such a crappy world.

There are just some people on this planet that I’ll never be able to please.  Yet… for some damn reason I still try (by force mostly).  My life is being forced out of its routine to accommodate someone else… a lot of someone else’s … and all I get is grief and snippy attitudes.

Seriously?  Get over yourself.  My life is having to be completely turned upside down and revamped to make sure that you have the tools that you need to do your job.  The least you could do is simply say “thank you” even if you don’t mean it.  FAKE THAT SHIT!

I understand more is needed, but an effort is being made.  Try not to bite the hand that feeds you and be a little appreciative that someone is “listening” to your “needs” instead of making empty promises to fix and then never delivering.  This is a new opportunity for you to get what you’ve wanted for years and although it’s not at the speed you want, or the content, the least you could do is understand that a genuine effort is being made, which is far more than anyone else has done for you…

Instead you find it necessary to bitch and complain… bite my face off like some douche bag hipster on bath salts…  and demand more.

If I had it my way, the offer would be off the table and it would be business as usual… unfortunately, I have no say in the matter, but I promise that my protest will be heard and I will fight this effort with everything I’ve got at this point.  I’ve known for years that there’s no pleasing you.  Now, they know too.  Good job, genius!

Anyone who works in an office environment with coffee rations, knows the routine.  You clock in, boot up your pc (or typewriter if you’re from the 80’s), head to the coffee pot… mug in hand (trough if your a pro)…  the closer you get the more desperate the prayers.

“Please lord, let there be coffee..  I promise to not slap the shit out of Bob when he goes on a tirade about post-it notes and their lack of consistent stickiness”

“Jesus, hear my prayer, let their be coffee of great abundance and warmth of the sun”

“So help me GOD, if the last person took the last cup and I have to make ANOTHER pot…”

I usually say my “prayer” of sorts about 50 feet from the break room.  We have ONE Bunn coffee maker and carafe.  In previous years, our cost center (fancy word for department budget) has foot the bill for all coffee rations for OUR teams.  Unfortunately, when it’s a shared break room, the whole floor finds it as a charitable contribution which means dozens of pots of coffee a day are made.

After having spent a ton of money, management decided to hoard the coffee (and only the coffee) in our department.  The pot is still out in the open, so the whole floor still consumes it all .. it just takes someone from our team to get the shakes before a new pot gets made.  I don’t see the value saved in this practice, but more the aggravation that every time I go to get a cup of coffee, some dip shit has already taken the last cup, leaving me with 2 pumps of bubbles and cold caffeine…  So now, I get to make the trip BACK to the cabinet to get the coffee, go back, make the coffee, babysit the maker, get my cup, and go back to work.  If I’m smart (and semi awake), I get a vat of it for myself to avoid another trip and fit of rage.

So, after chugging my mug of muddy caffeinated goodness, I’m now ready to support conference calls the rest of today.  I may shake, I may speak at the speed of light, but I’m not sleeping!!!  I may or may not crash in 2 hours.  We’ll see.

I just give up some days.  Throw my arms up and admit defeat.  I’ve got nothing.  I’ve got very little fight left in me for most things on most days.  I simply exist.  I can’t come up with anything funny lately to blog about.  I’m stuck in a rut.

Everything is so overwhelming anymore, I just want to stay in bed and not see anyone, do anything, or breathe.  Shit keeps piling up and I don’t know where to start.  I couldn’t even make a list of everything going on right now, because it seems to have gotten that out of hand.

Even when I think I’ve got my shit together, something pops up to remind me that it’s total chaos.  My house, bills, job, kids, boyfriend, life… it all seems to be dangling by a thread these days.  Putting my head in the sand isn’t solving anything but trying to face any of it head on gives me too much anxiety so I shut down.

My job is a complete cluster fuck of disorganization, lack of information, demands that are completely out of control, and about 100 different people who can’t keep track of their own hands, let alone figure out what all the other hands are doing.  IT MAKES ME CRAZY!  I try to fix things and am told it’s not the right way but no one is jumping up with any logical solutions besides what I have.  They just keep shoving it to the side or having conversations with the wrong people and end up getting nowhere in regards to a working solution.  For the stuff that I do know… I can’t apply because the shit on the other side is still a mess.  Why I let myself get dragged into this stuff, is a mystery to me.  I don’t get paid more.  I don’t get any kind of accolades.  All I get is aggravation and anxiety.

BOY!  DOES THAT MEME SAY A LOT!  Take it for what it is.  If I had xanax, I still wouldn’t abuse it, because the anxiety of thinking that I was addicted to something would send me off the rails!  SEE WHAT I DEAL WITH?  I do nothing in that first column at all.  NOTHING.  I eat healthy anyway, I exercise at physical therapy (when I go), I rarely force myself to be social because I really have very few people to be social with and I’m always self criticizing how I act, what I say, what I wear, how I look, who I speak to, who speaks or doesn’t speak to me… IT’S EXHAUSTING.

Back to the chaos for atleast 6 more hours (because I’d hate for anyone else to pick up the ball and run with it … no no!  I can work a 14+ hour day… don’t worry about me!).  Kinda over this Monday.

August 11, 2014.

Just finishing a day full of mind numbing training in Denver, CO.

My teammate Darius and I choose to go to “The Irish Snug” on Colfax in Denver.  Partly to get away from Aurora and partly because of their happy hour specials.

I get a notification from the devil (aka: Facebook) that “Jim” has requested me as a friend.

I freeze.  I have waited for this moment since I (reluctantly) signed up for Facebook in 2006.  I’ve creepily stalked him through the years since the internet came to be.

My heart stops.  “I’ll have 2 of your house wines” (it was buy one get one that night)

I patiently wait about 20 minutes.

*text him on FB messenger* Stop trolling my photos and say hello! (what the hell else would he be doing?)

He responds and it begins.  Again.

In high school, freshman year through senior year, we dated off and on.  He was “my guy” even though we dated other people off and on through the years.  I dated him briefly after high school a couple of times.. (oh … the times)

We didn’t speak from 1993 until 2014.

Throughout the years, I was that creepy stalker.  I kept up with him, no matter what he did, whether he knew it or not.  He married, had a son, worked his ass off for a very good corporation… all along, he didn’t know that I was there.

At one point, I “noticed” he filed for divorce.  I don’t wish that on anyone but I sent a message through a mutual friend that I was sorry to hear.  Crickets.  Nothing.  I get it, it had been decades and why on earth would he consider me as a “friend”?

2014 was a tough year for me.  I had just left a 5(ish) year relationship that was going nowhere fast –  With a man that was miserably unhappy as a person.  Great man – just unhappy.  I couldn’t take it anymore and left.  I knew we were never going to get married (his divorce left him bitter and angry-er).  Jim reaching out to me, although unexpected and unplanned, was a very fresh breath of air.

From that notification to today, he has been “my guy” again.  We texted endlessly until I returned from Denver and while he was traveling to his son’s graduation from Navy Boot camp.  These are moments (among memories from high school and beyond) I will forever cherish.

He lives an hour and a half away and we have made it work for 2 years (in just under 3 hours as I type this).  We text each other daily.  Going to work, going home, activities throughout the day…  We do what we can to make this work after decades of separation.

I love him.  I’ve loved him in my way for years.  I will love him in my way until I die.

He makes me laugh on days when all I want to do is cry.
He makes me furious when all I want to do is love him.
He snores (but so do I when I don’t wear my CPAP)
He is a Republican ( I AM SO NOT!)
He is handsome
He is loving (even when I’m not worth loving)
He is cuddly (and terrifying)
He is loyal
He is sexy (not your business on so many levels)
He is faithful
He is a FUCKING GENIUS (I wish I were that smart)
He is OCD and organized and I’m a slob
He has been there for me and my family in the hardest of times
His inner “girl” compliments my inner “guy” and vice versa
He is too giving … when I’m not.. and vice versa.
He is the Ying to my Yang.  In every way.

I could go on for days but the short of it all is that he is mine.  My future with him is up in the air (at best) but neither of us is going anywhere anytime soon.  There are far too many “PROS” to “CONS” in this.  We have to work every day to make this work and there are days when he picks up the slack when I can’t.  I would give my life for him right now, even if he doesn’t know or realize it.

I love him.  Years, miles, people, experiences, and life will never change that.  He could leave me tomorrow and although I’d be devastated, I’d still be thankful that I got yet another chance to have him in my life.

More to come .. for years I hope.

❤

If it weren’t for the fact that I was startled awake by my boyfriend climbing into bed, I wouldn’t be up this early.  Granted, my plan was to spring to life the minute he arrived…  Unfortunately, I think I have some version of the plague so I loaded up on whatever medicine I could to knock myself out last night!

I am a VERY anxious person.  I live in a large house (that I bought for my kids so they could live with me forever and ever) and normally a mouse farting in the basement crawl space would be enough to drag me out of slumber..  NOT TODAY!  He walked in the house, kicked off his work boots, dropped his 14 bags (for a 4 day stay) and slithered into my bed..  *wink wink*

Either way, a 275 lb -6’4 guy, staring at you when you sleepily open your eyes, is enough to draw a shriek that the neighbors in the next zip code would hear.  He made up for it.

Now…  He’s sleeping and I’m at the car lot waiting for my teenie tiny car to get an oil change.  This dealership always treats me great and they have a nice waiting room full of people who are too terrified to turn the TV to the Olympics, for fear they may be stabbed.  

Let’s face it..  In our society, you just never know if the little old lady, who wanted to discuss her husbands affinity for driving thousands of miles a year and his aggravation at their transmission, could be carrying a shank in that adorable little “pocket book”.  

I’ll just sit quietly, drink my Monster, and avoid all eye contact with anyone else waiting or the sales guys who must be forced to come in and get coffee (even if they don’t drink it) so they can spark up a conversation and try to get a “trade-in”. LOL  I’m on to you guys!  Your slushy machine does nothing for me..  Hmm..  Monster slushy..  Hold tight.  BRB
Yeah.  No.  Bad idea.  I’m good.

I drive a Fiat 500 Sport.  With Eyelashes.  Yep.  I’m that person!  Don’t judge me.  It’s fun!

My car could fit in the trunks of most of the cars here!  Not sure why it takes 2 hours to change the oil, my engine is smaller than my 4lb Chihuahua!

Mr. Incredible and his side-kick Little Dog (shoved into my Fiat!)

He put those eyelashes on that car and promptly said he would never ride in it again.  Good thing I got that picture first!

So this is my Saturday morning!  

I specifically told the guy, who checked me in, NOT TO LAUGH AT THE MECHANIC WHO HAD TO CHANGE THE OIL IN MY CAR!  We’ll see if I hear them all laughing and clapping when he squashes himself into the driver’s seat and zoom zoom zooms into the next bay!  😆👏🏻😆👏🏻 

After this it’s baby-proofing my house for hurricane Sqiggle who get’s to spend the day with GiGi today while mommy cohorts with the dirty butts at the state fair..  (I had to go Thursday night and that blog is coming..  I promise!)

So ..  I wait.   But with an eye on that old lady.
(UPDATE!)

So my favorite girl here, Alexis (beautiful little redhead with an amazing personality and always ready to help me out!) just walked up with this..

THAT is my driver’s side arm rest!  LOL Gigantor got in my car and broke it!  LOL they sent her to give me the news and all I could do was laugh.  I know they’ll take care of it so I’m not pressed about it.  

Back to waiting.  Hahahhahaha!

I got into the IT field to .. make more money.  I’m not overly smart but I can hold my own.  My A.D.D. fights against me most days and I feel like I spend more time convincing people that I do in fact know what I’m talking about, in regards to my job, than anything else.

Lately, it’s been nothing but conference calls.  I hate conference calls with 98% off all the fibers of my being.  They are a useless waste of time most days and end up accomplishing nothing but aggravating most of the people on the call.

Here’s a breakdown of my calls:

Everyone sporadically joins depending on their mood that day
Most people sit in silence unless forced to announce their name
There’s one leader – IN THEORY
15 wanna-be leaders who can’t seem to sit still or stay quiet
Inevitably one ASSHOLE who has to start an argument
A KNOW-IT-ALL who can’t let everyone figure things out on their own
A bossy person who feels it necessary to tell everyone what they should and should not    say/do/think
4 people who aren’t paying attention and then when called upon think we believe that  they were “multitasking”.  Face it pricks, you were shopping on Amazon or watching  YouTube videos!
The mono-tone guy who has to explain everything in such a way that everyone is asleep by  minute 3.
One or 2 people who actually know what is going on and have action items to speak on
Background noise because IDIOTS DON’T UNDERSTAND THE MUTE BUTTON
Slide shows, flow charts, network maps, spreadsheets, and process docs that make NO  FUCKING SENSE!
6 people who all want to talk at the same time… even after a pause to let someone else talk
A myriad of other nonsensical bullshit that most people could live without
30-120 minutes of TIME THAT WE WILL NEVER GET BACK!

I write this as I sit on a conference call, “MULTITASKING”, and waiting for yet another to start in 15 minutes… where my nerves will be stressed by one guy whose mere voice makes me wanna stab babies and throat punch kittens.  I genuinely want to run him over in my Fiat.  Unfortunately, I have training in California in a few weeks where he will be attending for a second time.. .and will inevitably hijack the entire training session… and I can’t fit my Fiat on the plane in order to follow through with my plan.  (Note to self:  See if I can find a “doctor” that can “prescribe” me “something” to “deal” with him all week!)

I accumulated $20k in student loans … for this.  I don’t think I thought this through in a proper way prior to making my career decision.  Unemployment and residency in a van down by the river sounds really appealing right now.

Rush hour traffic (or any traffic for that matter), is the very bane of my existence.  Just after people who smack their lips.. but that’s another blog that will be lengthy and probably worth a few giggles.

Why is it, at 7 am, fools cannot get their cars to move at the posted speed limit?  Dipshits going 60 mph, at best, in a 65 zone need to be dragged off the freeway and beat with a tire iron.

Just because you decided to wake up at 5 am, fill up on a Southern Fried Chicken Biscuit Breakfast at Perkins (which, face it, it’s only good for filling up because nothing they serve has flavor) doesn’t mean you can take your food coma  ass into the public and disrupt a perfectly good morning with your “driving shenanigans”.  Either stay in that comfy torn up booth that you just left and let that extra fried egg digest, or drink a couple of cups of coffee before departing and getting in my damn way.

6 cars… all following behind one woman who can’t get her ass in gear.  *EYE ROLL* Sure… let me sit here for 10 minutes waiting for 150 cars to pass us, and wait my turn to find a tiny spot for my FIAT to fit…  Now I am stuck in a new line of assholes who can’t decide between the gas peddle on the floor or the brake pedal on the floor.  There’s no happy medium when I’m running early or on time … but let me me a few minutes late getting out of the house and there’s no issues.  Ironic.

The only giggle I got was once I got to “MY EXIT” (yes .. it’s mine.  ALL MINE!), there was a PRIUS in front of me with the tiniest of exhaust pipes… but I swear someone stole a catalytic converter off of it.. (Must Google if they even have one – YEP, they have one).  But my dirty mind immediately went to those weirdos that like to have sex with inanimate objects and thought… my lord… that would take a tiny tiny man.  (micropenis.com – you’re welcome!)

In all of this, I forgot to hit the Walmart for a 5lb bag of sugar… it’s the one commodity at work that always runs out – besides the coffee.  I had good intentions but that tiny, yet loud, exhaust pipe had me at “roooooaaaaaaar”

So, I never thought I’d be inspired by Bill Clinton of all people, but here goes.

19 years ago, I was pregnant with my youngest child.  NEWLY pregnant.  We won’t go into the details (they’re sordid, dirty, and make for a much better post later), but this was a first child for my then boyfriend (later husband –  okay, a few details) who had already been married twice.  *eye roll* I know… You really need all the details.. but NOPE!  Not getting all of them.

Anyway, he was half Puerto Rican, and his family is very big, very close, very loud, very loving (when they aren’t being very crazy), and very traditional latin.  Mothers are queens.  You don’t mess with mom.  The whole family will come after you.  So they kinda put me on this pedestal since I was the only one to finally give him a child.

This gets so convoluted, but suffice it to say things didn’t work out.  By the time my daughter was a year and a half, we were divorcing.  It was messy, painful, shocking, and devastating.  I genuinely thought our marriage would be forever when I married him.

So now to the inspiration part (19 years later).  As I watched the DNC last night, begrudgingly  as I’m a Bernie fan, I happened to notice Bill Clinton sitting there clapping and smiling like a buffoon.  I was always a Bill Clinton fan when he was in office, and to this day I think he was a great president.  However, I thought to myself “You can’t put someone on a pedestal in one breath, as you also did in your presidency, and then disrespect them publicly and mercilessly the next”

BAM!!!!!

I realized that the only person in 19 years who still put me on a pedestal with my ex-husband and his family… was me.  If he truly put me on a pedestal, he wouldn’t have cheated on me during my pregnancy, shortly after, and basically through our whole relationship.  He, to this day, still thinks he puts me on a pedestal but I may have opened his eyes as well this morning when he read my text.

The closure is freeing and embarrassing in the same moment.  How could I have been so damn stupid?  Oh wait.  I do a lot of stupid things.  I can just add this to the list.  I just wish I had come to this conclusion a long time ago.  Although, the feeling of being superior, to the subsequent relationships he had, felt really good.  They would never be me.  They would never and could never be her mother.  The vanity in that causes me to wonder what kind of karma is coming my way.  It may already be here.

Anyway, Thanks Bill … I can’t wait to see what kind of shenanigans you get into now that she will be running the world.  I have my bucket of popcorn ready!  Don’t disappoint me, pal!