Even though I am this person now, there are still days I truly feel like this person:
So I'm telling you now, that you may just want to skip this post, as I'm a bit of a sadsack presently, and it may be a total waste of your time. Honestly? When I read posts such as this, it just pisses me off. I mean, I know we all have our days when we feel less than stellar, but I just find people that insist on fishing for compliments..lame. In fact, there's a certain blog I stalk in which that person does it often. (Also, this person is very good about telling you why you should compliment them). And, because I would rather do anything than housework, I usually end up reading it--and being overly annoyed with that person. Yes, I bring it upon myself for being nosy. (Let me say that I see nothing wrong with fishing for sympathy. As it's my favorite thing to do. And I've already admitted on countless occasions that I'm the biggest hypocrite I know). I don't know why I feel like I need to complain about stuff that really isn't all that particular, but I WILL complain, because that's what I do.
Anyway, moving on.
I can't really talk about this with Jeff. And sometimes that makes me mad. So I'm typing it out. And the reason I can't talk about it with him, is because he reacts to me the same way I react to the aforementioned blog. It just annoys him that I have a really sweet deal, and yet I still find some excuse to feel sorry for myself. And by feeling sorry for myself, I mean poor me: I'm getting older. Poor me: My childhood was crappy sometimes. Poor me: I'm not and never will be a size 6. Poor me: I'm not the smartest person in the world. Poor me: My face is breaking out and I'm 32 years old. Believe me, I feel petty. I KNOW this is petty stuff. But what I want to know is, do other people feel this way? I mean occasionally? Is this just a girl thing? Do guys do this? I know there are times when Jeff is mopey, but that's usually because he's been working a bazillion hours and hasn't slept in three days. And he never feels guilty about eating something that he really wanted just then--it's never the embarrassing, pathetic stuff that in my head, seems to be all encompassing RIGHT. THIS. SECOND. I thought I left this behind in High School. I mean, for the most part, I have but there are still those times that it sneaks up on me. And then I can't get it out of my head. Again, like in my childhood when I was a crybaby....I still am, btw, but I have it better under control. I used to threaten myself that I would punch my own face in if I started crying at that moment. And no, it didn't work. Like me trying to control my own lame crybaby, mopey feelings--it seems to just escalate things.
It's not like I don't have a lot to be responsible for, I have Jeff, and my kiddos, the house, the cars, the lawn, the day to day living stuff, etc. and it keeps me pretty busy, and my concern for these items comes before my own...Unless I'm having one of these times. Then I'm just, "poor me".
When I was in high school, I worked at a sandwich place, and my boss was a repugnant pig. Not only did he brew his own beer and wine in the closet on the premises, but he also would allow all the GIRLS he'd hire, (because he would only hire girls), taste it when it was ready. Remember Leah? Not about the tasting stuff, about the grossness that was Greg. Now, this really didn't affect me, because I wasn't one of the girls he was interested in. I just made sandwiches during the lunch hour, the evenings and weekends. He hired some beautiful girls, because he wanted them. And he'd flirt shamelessly, as long as his wife, whom lost more than 100 pounds in order to "save their marriage", stayed away from the shop.
K. Now all that information was basically useless, but I had to give a little background before my main point.
There was one girl in particular that he absolutely doted on. And this wasn't surprising, because she was doted on by EVERYONE. She was athletic and smart and what I thought of as truly beautiful. She was on the "A" team in every sport, and she was in every academic honor, so teachers loved her, too. Physically, she was tall with a very girly-athletic build, brown hair that was curly and shiny, a big smile and freckles that she hated, but they completely added to her look. (I am a freckles fan, you see. Because they're adorable, duh).
Her name was Brittany Lashley. She was a couple years older than me, and we weren't friends, by any means...she had her group of friends, was massively popular, and I was younger and awkward and shy and not popular. Not a lot of things that she was. But when I worked with her, it gave us the opportunity to talk. To just be people in a place that either had to acknowledge each other, or have a very silent five hour shift that would seem like 30. It was during these times that I think the high school paradigm that I'd created began to shift...because she had everything. Everyone knew who she was, her family was wealthy and they seemed really put together, and then adding in the previously mentioned stuff, I couldn't find a reason that she'd be the way she was.
Brittany was like, the least self-confident person I ever met. And maybe I say that because my expectations were so high that when I found out how she worried and fished for compliments and got upset about the dumbest things ever, it floored me. Here I was, probably weighing the same amount as she did, and it was NOT athletic muscle, and being about five inches shorter than her, two years younger, not nearly as smart, not as many friends, and no one, except for a few of my close friends gave a crap about how or where I was. I literally would spend the entire five hours of work telling her that she was worthwhile and no, I didn't think her boyfriend was cheating on her, (though I did and he was), and no, her butt wasn't fat, (it was great, really), and though her honors courses were difficult, she could only do the best she could. (I think that there were only like 2 honors courses available to seniors at that time, and then they were called "College Prep", so in comparison with real honors courses, they probably didn't).
And then there was the way Greg, our boss, would drool all over her, and she ate up the attention. And not that it isn't nice to have someone admire you, but Greg was the equivalent of the scary gas station guy that seems okay until you remember he works in a gas station, and he says something so repulsive to you that you never go there again, even if you're on empty. I don't know, it was just surreal to me, you know? And it ruined something...I couldn't ever think of her the same way, again. Instead of idolizing her and thinking she was something extraordinary, I just sorta...pitied her. Kind of like when you hear that an actor or a model or a comedian gets to this point where people kind of know who they are, and then they kill themselves. Yeah, that's a really drastic comparison, but my point is, why do we have such a hard time accepting and embracing that that's the best of us, and focus on our worst? I honestly wonder if it's human nature, or if it's severe lack of self worth, because if there's anything I hate more than anything, it's me being sulky and sad about stuff that is beyond my control, when I have so much to be grateful for that I can't even list it all. It could be so many things...but I think what would kill me is if I found that I am someone that is made worthwhile by what others think of me. Because I have no pleasing facts about myself to myself. Does that make any sense? Maybe not, as I'm tired...and this post has taken me forever, and if you've given up reading a long time ago, you're more than forgiven because if this weren't about me, I totally would have.
So I've decided that despite the fact that I'm a wife and a mom, and a woman, and a decision maker, and house cleaner, and grocery shopper, and a car and house taker-carer, I'm also "poor me". I'm also that person that has to have down times so I can really enjoy my up times. I'm complicated and weird and still have thoughts and emotions that I don't know what to do with. But I do believe that I'm good for my family. Whatever else, I do believe that, and so I really cling to it in times like this.
Anyhow, thanks for stopping by. If you did read this novel, I hope you won't be fired from your two hours of non-productiveness. However, if you do, I'm not going to blame myself. See how far I've come? ;)
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