Let me just start off by admitting I have no acceptable excuse for my prolonged absence.

But I'm here now. 

So, hello. I would love to take this hobby more seriously. Not in a serious way but definitely in a more consistent way. What's stopping me you ask? Well, what do you think? Myself of course. While my blockage isn't intentional, it is a thing, and the thing happens more than I like for it to happen...I'm growing and I'm remembering myself more consciously. The least I can do is tell you how i ended up here (again) haha.

Long story short, I 've been actively working towards learning my boundaries and pushing them a little in hope to grow at my place of employment. The scariest part about it is the more I push, the more clear I see that I am of much more value than these people could ever imagine. I am the flame in this paper factory, yo! (bars) I have to contain myself a little longer because I'm just getting my spark a'sparkin and I'm not tryna burn the house down but I do want to grow and take over the land...on my Cali vibe haha (sorry, bad joke maybe but I really laughed)  

Over the years, I've dabbled in some philanthropathic  activities here and there (I know "philanthropathic" is not a real word but I need you to know what I mean though). Most recently, I volunteered to HELP (key word here) organize a softball tournament within my company to raise awareness of a charitable group who partnered with us and also to build comradery. Don't you know all 4 other Moffos who signed up to help decided they forgot what they had agreed to and I'm standing there holding all of the hats like the Dr. Suess?? 

Very overwhelming and empowering and depressing and invigorating and disappointing and fulfilled...

just a lot. 

Mind you, I haven't enjoyed a roller coaster of any size since I was old enough to hold down the funnel cake on that first drop. When I tell you I was drained yawl...more drained than anyone around me could understand which made it worse. It was giving group project but more intense frustration because ewe, I'm too old to be saying "yea" for the sake of other's feelings who don't consider mine! I also found myself feeling a little selfish like, well why would they think about how I feel? how selfish could I be? I could've said no just as easily as they have. Why am i so invested in the success of this work-related event and ioneen know these people in real life? Like, omg so gross the feeling was that I had. 

The grammar isn't cohesive but I'm typing as the feelings translate into thoughts and run across the large marquee that scrolls across the perimeter of my IMAX forehead.

For context, this was an event that was about 3 months of planning, 4 days of "doing shit" and then the actual game day. The 4 days of doing (booking a field, concessions, jerseys ordered, donations collected, door prizes, refs, invites, trophy, sponsorship banner, game day schedule and creating a 4th team blah blah who (besides me) gives aF blah blah extra blah) was only necessary because no one who was assigned those roles did what they agreed to do! lol

I chuckle because I cannot believe my brain won't let me let this go. The competition was 4 days ago and I still have energy lingering from 4 days prior. Dis-ah-pointing. ANYWHO...

I'm also a part of another group that focuses on inclusion in the gender category at the work place. Don't get me wrong, I am saying yes to all of these things. The frustration is not that people are asking me to share my awesome-as-shit vibe but I'm frustrated there are so many people around me asking for things that I can't see my plate and cup and fork are actually quite abundant and are runnithing tf overrrrrr.

Why can I not say no? Why am I so eager to be involved? I'm no over achiever by nature, I much more prefer to sit, and watch Snapped all day. But if you ask me to do anything (and I must do it), I won't allow myself to half-ass it and I really wish... upon a Disney star, cricket in my pocket, eyes wide open, glistening because I refuse to blink as they gaze blindly upon the moon and fireflies that I could say "Fuck you and your shit. I cannot and will not spare my precious minutes upon it"

I'm torn and it's frustrating. 

Torn how?

Do I care? No. 

Do others think I care? Yes. 

Do I care if they know how much I really don't care? Yes. 

So, if the math is correct...that equals: Aw shit, I HAVE to look like I care as much as they care so that they're not aware of how much I don't care?! AAAGGGHHHHH!!!!!!! FUCKFUCKFUCKKKKKK :( 

And so, I hold all of this passive aggressive niceness inside all day, then I get home and I have to care about all of the woes my kids need to vent to me about because I'm a relatable mom. I love my babies dearly, I do. But they have no idea that none of the "important" events in their day actually matters. In the grander scheme of things, you'll never see that hating ass bitch after high school. And if you do, you'll be shitting on her so hard, you'll feel bad for her in like a happier-about-yourself kind of way. And that boy is going to look creepy as shit when he's over the 20yr mark. The fat/ugly/stank ass/short one will be the keeper and he probly won't be fat/ugly/stank ass-y for too much longer...he'll still be short lmao but whatever, heels hurt too much to wear after 29 anyway. The teacher who gave you a F is shaped like a F, and her life is a F, and her shoe game...solid F, and her booty flat with a big F from sitting down long enough to actually grade papers when she knows she's only sitting in that class as your teacher because none of her economics grades mattered 15-20 years ago either. 

I cannot say those things. I have to care. This is a care I must give because of the bigger picture. Engaging in conversations that stimulate and develop positive mental health and be a positive example of what emotional support looks like...well what I imagine it to look like to me since I don't have that shit for myself...My dad sits and smiles and listens. His head sways occasionally up, down, left, right... like an oak tree in a random conveniently empty large field of grass that no one mows because it don't grow because it ain't real but you want it to be...but who would intentionally imagine chaos around them while they lay in the shade of an oak tree? and my mom literally doesn't have the time, tolerance, or patience for anything other than "hey mom, everything's great". Otherwise, I'm getting judged harder than I judge myself...and I go hard in the paint, trust me. Maybe I'm just like my mother, too bold.

Now that I've cleared the air, I'm going to go clean. Declutter. Reset. Start Fresh...

I owe it to myself. If no one else cares how I'm feeling, I should. I should always care about myself first. And so should you.

Until next time...

Deena