What I Set Out To Do...

I'm in a pickle. Not the delicious kind either. Assuming you think pickles are delicious. Shit, I know I do. 

I am facing yet another career change.
When I left Race Street I was so unsure of what the future held. I am a long term job type of girl and in the last few years I have had about 3 different jobs. 

My current job I will have been at for a year in April. I feel it in my bones that the gig is up. I just ordered my transcripts from State and just that alone makes me feel like I am headed in the right direction. 

Finally.
In my mid-30's.
I see the light.

It's time to take action. Honestly, I just need to come to fucking terms with my life and the poor decisions I have made. Taking ownership is the hardest thing. 

I have made a myriad of excuses as to why I have continued to slack on myself. Don't believe me? A part of me hella wants to list them. Why? Maybe to shed myself of them, to own them once and for all and be fucking done, just done with them. And then another part of me is like hell no that might bite me in the ass later... accountability is key. But I am barely starting this journey with it... 

Truthfully a lot of it has been my fault. I have let other's shortcomings become mine. I've been complacent when I should have been enraged. 

I need to be an example for my children. They are entering the "old enough to remember phase" and I need to up my game, straight up.

It's hard as fuck being a mom and going back to school and following your dreams and all that shit when you have, for the last 13 years, aggressively set aside your own personal wants for others around you. 

How do I find myself again? How do I find what the fuck it is I really want to do with my life?

I thought my 30's were going to be fun. And in a way, I guess you can say this is fun. A different kind of fun. I have a chance to reinvent myself and be a better ass motherfucking me. When it can still count for something cause let's face it, trying to find yourself and your journey in your 40's, 50's & 60's, although extremely courageous and commendable, can also be laughable and sad. 

So here's to gobbling pickles and showing them who's boss. I'm sliding into home, players.

Mr. Sandman, Bring Me a Dream...

Last night I tried again and failed again.
I thought long and hard about going to sleep before midnight.
Everyone else in my family can, quite easily too it seems but I still struggle.
I enjoy my struggle though I can't lie.
Those wee hours of the night that I lay awake are my peaceful moments. 
My "me" time.
I think, these are the hours that I get clarity. 
I can watch whatever I want without protest, I can play my stupid games without anyone protesting or looking at me all judgy with their judgy ass eyes.
I can really do whatever I want. 
As long as it's quiet and it doesn't wake anyone else up.

But then I think, I do all that shit all day anyway.
I watch whatever I want.
I play my stupid ass games whenever I want.
I think whatever I want.

I have fooled myself into thinking quite the opposite of what those hours mean to me exactly.

So what kept me up last night? Besides my husbands rape-y hands? 

Breaking Bad.

I started it a year or so ago on Netflix and then stopped because Skylar, Walt's wife, just rubbed me the wrong way. There's a lot of cheese thrown into the dialogue that doesn't seem organic and as trivial as that may sound, it is enough to get me off a bandwagon really quick. But yesterday, as I was browsing thru "My List" I seen it still there and realized that I only had a season left to finish. 

I hate being a quitter.

I am on Season 4 Episode 8 - Cornered. I think it's titled. It was really good so I had to pause it at 2 AM and put on Dolphins instead. Otherwise that binge could have lasted well into the wee morning. Further than it already had.

So when I switched to Dolphins - I found myself still very much engaged with the programming. How they swim, how they lunge out of the water and dive or twist back in. Or maybe I was just waiting to see a dolphin penis. 

Never happened. Crashed before I could confirm.

They Tell Me I Need 7-9 But I Only Get 3-5...

[side note: I started writing this thinking "I am going to be lazy and not punctuate and hope it looks cool since I have seen it done plenty of times" and in my attempt I realized that I am not that kind of asshole. I am of a different type of asshole. A lazy asshole in general but never too damn lazy to punctuate. Does that mean I am getting old or maybe I am already old and just have managed to fool myself for the last 5 years that I am still 25 when in fact I am reaching my mid _{M.Y.O.B}_ and just need to realize it. Punctuation and proper grammar are a sign of self respect & integrity and since I lack so much of that in my real life I might as well have it online. Where I don't know anyone.]

So every morning I wake up and I'm like damn I am so tired. I really need to go to bed earlier. Like for real this time. 

And every night there I am, 10:30 - 11 pm, debating whether I should keep my word or not and before I know it, it's 1:30 am and I am still trying to convince myself that one more stupid ass TV show won't kill me and I will make it up and take a nap during the day.

I convince myself that I really only need 5 hours of sleep anyway, unless there is beer or liquor involved prior to hitting the hay then a bitch needs like 10 or 12 hours and I will get them one way or another at someone else's expense. 

But last night it wasn't a stupid TV show that kept me up. It was a movie. A movie I have always wanted to watch and attempted to watch it a few weekends ago before I realized that there were too many adults partaking in too many adult beverages to even appreciate this film and all it's beauty. And not only do I hate telling people to shut the fuck I also don't know how to say it nicely so I just switched the movie to something we can all talk thru and not give a fuck.

So last night as I contemplated drifting off to the sweet sounds of my partner trying to summon the dead, I decided once and for all I was going to watch The Danish Girl. A reckless decision in retrospect, but fuck a retrospect.

It was beautiful from start to finish. The cinematography [I say that word like I know what it means exactly. I have an idea, sure, but right here right now as I type this out I am not 100% on its meaning so I am going to look it up aka google that shit so I can finally say/write it and really know what the fuck I am talking about - no longer will I educated-guess this shit, I am taking a stand - there I found the definition of it and I was right about what I thought it meant... now back to your scheduled programming] was enchanting and mesmerizing. Watching the transition of the character not only externally but internally as well. He did such a good job... so did his wife. I believed it, I felt it, I cried with her. She was gaining a best friend but losing her husband and not once did her loyalty falter. 

I went thru so many emotions watching it... I love when people just love each other. Regardless of their innate nature or what we've been taught or instructed on what's historically been acceptable or unacceptable. 

Just love, people. Just love. 

and go to bed early, and know the definition of words before you use them.... like for real, for real.