I’ve tried for many years to set a schedule for myself. An eating schedule, a writing schedule, a plan my life away schedule. But I am currently trying to create for myself some semblance of a blogging schedule. I feel like doing so would create consistency and consistency will bring me more readers.
By the look of this blog currently, it seems that consistency must frighten me, or something. There is absolutely no rhyme or reason to the nonsense I spew forth into the void that is a blog with low readership. But I keep on keeping on like a choo choo train around an endless track.
Because I am stubborn and refuse to break my streak. This will be day 30, FYI.
So, let’s set one thing in proverbial stone right now, shall we? Henceforth, Fridays shall be known as “Fiction Fridays”. I have done posts in the past with the heading of “Fiction Friday”, namely at least one during Birthday Month Blogs. I think, honestly, I could be wrong, I’m usually wrong about a lot of things. But while I am trying to maintain a streak on this blog, I am going to attempt to create fiction on a weekly basis.
The goal for this being, obviously, gaining readership, and consistency. But also doing so will give me a full-on week to write the thing and make it sound less like I’m making it up half an hour before I post it. Which is usually the case 99.99% of the time. Now the question is this. Should I make this “Fiction Friday” thing a different story each week, sort of like “Randomized Fiction”, or should I make it installments of the same story until it is complete? For the heck of it, let’s throw a poll in just to see if anyone will vote.
I mean, I might as well use as many premium features as possible, right? I usually post any polls on my Facebook page. But I have considered moving them to the website.
I have yet to figure out what will happen on the rest of the days of the week, but I know at least a small amount of time on one or both of my days off from my day job will be dedicated to nothing but working on one or more of my NUMEROUS Works-in-Progress projects. Those are the Pretend Fantasy Novel, the 2nd Story project, the drawing challenge (I need to finish that dang duck), and I’m sure there is something I’m forgetting.
Now, that’s not to say that there might not pop up some fiction on other days of the week, we will just have to see how I feel or what comes to me at the time. But between working for a living, motherhood, and that sleep thing I have to get once in a while, I have hardly any time to get anything done besides wallow in self pity. But we will see what we can manage.
For now, I will bed you a Dieu. Work will come early and I’m sure The Kid will be crawling in my bed within the hour. Goodnight, friends.
As many of my readers know, I have worked at an unnamed retail establishment for almost thirteen years. I do my very best to not mention the name of my place of employment the same as I do not name my spouse or offspring.
Honestly it wouldn’t be hard to figure out, but you will never catch me saying it on purpose. It’s a personal preference and I also feel like they wouldn’t appreciate it.
Especially considering I’m about to complain.
Because I have been trying to convince someone, for ages, to let me YEET A PUMPKIN (or watermelon) FROM THE ROOF.
Imagine the stress relief. Imagine the amusement. Imagine, if you will, the sheer joy that would come with the sound it would make hitting the pavement!
Of course, I would insist on an area where no passerby or pedestrians would be in the way. The back of the building is facing a rock wall. It is paved and people and things rarely go back there. I would lay down tarps or heavy duty plastic myself.
I would even roll up the waste and dispose of it with my own two hands!
HECK I would BUY THE AFOREMENTIONED FRUIT MYSELF.
I just need one or two (or seventeen) good YEET(s).
That’s all it would take to ease my stress, satisfy my curiosity, and
MAKE MY ENTIRE YEAR.
In fact, someday I’ll be old(er) and gray(er). And I would tell my grandchildren: “Retail Establishment let me Yeet a <insert large seasonal fruit here> off the roof. And it was…
And they’ll probably say…
But you know what? I’ve been having a rough couple of weeks, and just creating this post made me laugh and forget my problems. If only for a moment.
Let’s see, I changed job descriptions in my workplace. Was forced out of my management position due to “structural changes”. Then tension and stress led me to seek other opportunities within the building.
So I moved to a floor position, initially assuming it was going to be the same type of position I was in last time I was on the floor. Instead it came with a cynical manager, and a lot of extra duties. (Basically it’s a position I was interested in years ago but without the title).
I’m not mad. In fact I love my job. But there’s just a lot and I just have stress and mental health issues that prevent me from even feeling like I do a good job.
More responsibilities have been added in recent months. I also feel outnumbered as I’m surrounded by dudes. I don’t complain about the dudes. They’re good dudes. But. Well I’m a girl and they’re dudes.
There has also been a number of changes in not only my direct management but the overall management. My two leads have changed once for both positions, and we lost and then gained a manager. The cynical one moved. But I really think he just hated our Zone (area). But I don’t communicate with him about his feelings much so
I haven’t any significant complaints about him as a supervisor, and hope he’s enjoying his new zone.
My new supervisors seem to be doing a good job. I haven’t any complaints about them except A, who I’ve told this (in the nicest of ways lol), needs to grow up a little and he’ll go far with the company if he chooses. B (I just realize the letters work out especially in order of who started first lol) seems to be doing well as well, but A’s goofiness rubs off on others and also, again, they’re dudes. Also the other non-supervisor associate in my zone? DUDE.
They did add a much needed third associate to our team, but there’s talk of moving HER back out. Yes. There is another female on our team. Shes a very sweet girl and I enjoy working with her when I get the chance.
All in all there’s a lot expected of me and only about eight hours to do it in. I try really hard and I’m told I’m doing a good job so I’m trying to run with that.
Also I’m OLDER THAN ALL OF THEM.
The year began ok. In the first six months we took a family trip (my family and my sister’s family). We took the kids to a bounce place and the zoo. The zoo was meant to be the main attraction but those lazy bones preferred the bounce place.
I also bought my first vehicle. Technically it’s my second but this one I bought. My first was a Chevy Cobalt that I inherited after my husband got himself a new car. After driving that little car for many years, and growing up in rambling old trucks I grew to desire a truck for myself.
So the day I got my hair permed I was feeling super confident and impulsive and saw a truck online that I wanted.
Long story short the next day I didn’t get that one. But I got this one:
Ain’t she a beaut? Well, the next day the check engine light came on and it’s something apparently you can’t buy a part for so the light stays on.
In October we got in it and tried to start it and it wouldn’t turn over. We got the jumper cables out and there were sparks but after four tries she finally started.
When we arrived at our destination, the spouse told me to not turn it off. I didn’t want to leave it running as we were in a public park. We had no issues getting it to where we were going so I thought it’d be a good idea to try it.
She did not start back up. So I said let’s just do the thing we were gonna do (the key was stuck in the ignition but they couldn’t steal something that wouldn’t start). It only took us a few minutes to enjoy the Trunk or Treat. So we made the damp (cause it was rainy) trek to the dead truck.
Eventually some nice dudes
Saw our predicament and stopped to help us. Turns out it was all a bad battery terminal connection
The nice dudes gave my spouse a ride up to a very close auto parts store where they purchased the new terminal connection and returned to install it. The truck (which my husband calls “Sexy Rexy” started right up with no battery issues since.
After leaving work one day I started it up and about four new lights came on, relayed to power steering and four wheel drive and had me near tears all the way home. But when I got in it the next day to pick up my kid from school, the lights came on but when off after a few minutes. Never saw them again.
Toward the beginning of the year I—on a whim—paid for premium site subscription and domain for this website. I always wanted to do so but feared spending the money.
It hasn’t done me a lot of good doing it, I’ve not made a dime.
Same with all the money I spent on trying to make something out of nothing. A jewelry business out of something no one wanted. And YouTube. I made a video. One. Singular.
Actually I haven’t checked the views in a while hold on
46 views. Posted a month ago.
I have lots of big ideas. Lip balm. Nail balm. Resin creations, jewelry, writing. All kinds of nonsense.
Honestly I think a lot of my trying and failing and trying something else is just causing my mental health to sink further down.
I could have made this a lot shorter. To be honest most of my posts come to me on a whim and happen when they come to me. So I have little planning. I need to fix that.
So if you stuck it out and read the whole thing, good for you. I’m super proud lol.
I have some goals for 2022. Not big goals. Just Me Trying Harder to Be Better goals. Number one is to not put to high of expectations on myself, others, or anything that may or may not happen. Take it as it comes.
I have a complicated relationship with religion. I always have. I’ve said this here before, I’m sure. My parents were never religious, although my mom had her “deep thought” moments. If we went to church as children it was an infrequent occurrence, and I don’t remember my parents being there. So religion was not something part of our upbringing, nor was it something outwardly encouraged.
I grew to question more than believe. There were a lot of things in my life that led me to this, mostly inconsequential to anyone but myself. I question more and more as I get older.
I also don’t hate, judge, or question others in their beliefs. In fact I’m a little bit jealous of their faithfulness and dedication. Unless you’re the faithful for appearance’s sake, but not in your heart.
But I can without a doubt admit that there have been a handful of times I have prayed to God or thrown a thought or hope into the universe and even (lard people don’t come for me) prayed to my mom.
Here in good old temperamental Kentucky (the earth lately tbh) it’s been raining cats and dogs and cows and ducks for days now, resulting in dangerous flash flooding and water in the roads.
I drive a little old (literally old) 2007 Chevy Cobalt. Me and that old girl have been through some schtuff, so I ain’t trying to throw hate. But she be light and if you’re not careful and you hit a centimeter of water in the road the wrong way she will fly off into outer space.
Tonight on the way home from work, the pouring rain reduced visibility to darn near nil, and there was a conservative estimate of an inch or so of water in the road a lot of the way (I might have caused a tidal wave to hit Japan in some places). Needless to say, I was SKURT. It didn’t help that my ARCH NEMISIS THE BIG SANDY RIVER was to my right for 75% of my drive (that’s another blog post).
The point I’m so wordily trying to make here is that I may or may not have verbally dictated a request for leniency in the matter of life or death unto an entity that may or may not be God and/or my mom.
The basis of said request entailed my desire to live for the love of my life: my daughter. Also included was a not-promise-but-an-acknowledgment of my own responsibility in keeping myself alive. I’ve made promises of “I’ll be a better person” or “I’ll pray more” or “I’ll dance naked under the pale moonlight” before and I’m no good at keeping promises. Or dancing. Or nudity. Gross.
But on that long, slow, mentally taxing drive home I kept telling myself and who/whatever was listening that I just wanted to see her face. I mean my husband is cool and all but he knows she’s number one. “Please let me see her face. I need to be alive for her” was my goal.
Now, I know normal people wouldn’t have been afraid for their lives, but I’m not normal, clearly. I also have anxieties and fears that are irrational and I accept them and we’ve bonded. Not really they just won’t leave me alone.
“As I’m writing this it’s still pouring rain AND THERE ARE WEIRD SOUNDS OUTSIDE so, anxiety, clearly here to stay.”
Me, suffering silently 2020-?
As I was saying, I have irrational fears, not excluding the fear of dying in some way related to my car. I said we’ve been through a lot and there’s still more to come.
So I drive home, slowly, and tightly gripping the steering wheel, wanting nothing more to make it home alive to my sweet child. I cannot help but “tell” myself and this mystery audience that I suppose only my heart knows is there, “if you help me make it home safely, I will try to keep my end of the bargain, and continue to live.”
That doesn’t mean I wanted to die, nay. I fear death, heavily. I just wasn’t trying really hard to not die.
I Did Live
Unless I’m writing this in limbo, I clearly made it home to my daughter, whose first words upon seeing me were, “did you bring me something.” I did baby. I did.
When I pulled into the driveway and put the Old ‘Balt (that’s a thing I call my car sometimes) in park. I took a deep breath as I waited for the rain to lighten up before I got out. It didn’t.
By now, hours later, the rain has indeed lightened up, I can barely hear it now, and my tiredness is getting to me. I’ve not stayed up this late in a very long time. But I need to get this all off my chest before I go to sleep. I need to document what happened today, so there’s a least some written record of it.
I WILL Live. Period
I won’t be afraid of my heart exploding, or a heart attack, because I will try in earnest to stop drinking caffeine, my only drug of choice. And I will be able to climb stairs without feeling like death (except for that fear or stairs-you guessed it, another post). I will lose weight, even if I don’t want the flappy skin side affect.
And I will be happier, because I will either find a better job or get back into teaching.
Oh and I will also try to document my “journey” right here. So, y’all get to deal with my bonkers self ALL. OVER. AGAIN. Maybe WEEKLY even!
Thanks for reading!
My kid asked me to tell her about her brain and heart before going to sleep tonight. And she said something about “the little thing in my brain and what it does.” Has she been chipped and is self-aware?
In 2007 I graduated from college with a bachelor’s degree in elementary education. Besides being a writer (which is either hilarious or depressing at this point) it’s the only career I could ever see myself in.
I love education. I have never held a teaching position.
I got married almost a year later and ended up getting a job at my current employer. I told myself, “Six months. I’ll be here six months and I’ll get a teaching job.”
But I got comfortable (which is either hilarious or depressing at this point). I’ve been with <REDACTED> for eleven years, six months, and sixteen days (whose counting, amirite? FACEPALM).
In my extended tenure at <REDACTED> I’ve been a victim of “Structural Changes” two and a half times (the half is complicated). Now it’s three and a half. I’m losing my position once again. I’m coming to terms with the loss. Slowly. But not the reasons. Maybe not the reason why I’m not good enough for a promotion, either.
But the benefit to it is that I do get something called “pay protection” for one year. Which means I get to continue to be paid for the position I lost instead of the one I’ve been chosen (forced) to do. After one year, if I haven’t been promoted to a position with comparable or better pay, I will lose my pay to a more “appropriate” rate suited to my position.
A Year for What, Exactly?
Remember that education stuff I mentioned?
Well, it’s been 12 years since I graduated. My statement of eligibility (like a learner’s permit for teaching in my state) expired after five years. Poor fella died of starvation. In order to get that renewed I have to take two tests or start on my Master’s Degree.
The tests are cheaper. At least for ya girl.
So I’m giving myself one year to take and pass these tests. I’ve been back and forth on this process for nearly a decade. I tell myself, “I’m gonna do it this time, I’ll get them done.” But I falter. I’ve not even come close to taking them yet!
But What Happens If I Fail?
If I don’t make it to take and pass the tests in a year, I deserve my lot in life and I’m as worthless as I’ve been made to feel by more than one person at <REDACTED>.
The simple fact is that I’ve been in this field for so long that quitting and starting all over would be absolutely bonkers. I have no other bankable skills. So I’m stuck at <REDACTED>.
Problem number Dos is that the field of education has changed so much in the decade plus that I’ve been away that I basically need an entire new degree to catch up. I may, in fact, be bonkers.
I would love a mentor of some type in my state, with my knowledge of my state’s educational policies and such, to guide me on what I need to learn, or relearn. I can study and pass a test or two (hopefully). But can I hold my own in a classroom.
One of the many steps I should take this year is renewing my substitute certification. I think it only costs $15. Last I check (been a WHILE). I could sub and learn a little. And make some connections.
I’mliterallyworking some of this out as Iwritethis post.
I might do great. I might end up in a mental institution. Hopefully it’s one of those like Passages Malibu where famous people go because of “stress”.
As 2016 is winding down, and there’s less opportunity for the world to ruin this year any further, we’ve all started thinking of what 2017 will bring. Hopefully something good.
Anywho, I’ve already said I have a list of things I want to do, and I hope to achieve in the coming year. But there’s one thing I haven’t mentioned.
My workplace has a Relay for Life team. We just started it back up last year, when a friend/co-worker (she transferred, the traitor) and I were discussing it, and later approached the store manager. Last year, with as little as we were able to do, we managed to raise about $500 for the American Cancer Society (the great people who started the relay).
In 2017 I wanna double that.
But we’ve done “jack sprat” since.
I’ve had an idea running around in my head for a while. And if I were to do it, there’d be a two-fold purpose. Not only would I be raising money for Relay for Life and cancer research, but I’d get fit too!
My idea: “run” X amount of minutes for “$X” amount of donations. For a max of 150 mintes a day (Department of Health and Human Services daily recommended physical activity for healthy adults).
All on FACEBOOK LIVE video.
Now, granted I am a 300+ pound woman, which technically would mean I am not a so-called “healthy adult”. But I would stop if I felt too uncomfortable or in danger, I would keep water on hand, and my husband would be home. So, he could turn the dang treadmill off if I pass out (haha, I’m hilarious).
I really like the idea, I’ve always needed real motivation to exercise, and I could do good too! And so could donators.
I just have to get donators.
I want to start in January, so there’s some time to decide.
What do you think? Am I crazy or stupid? Both? Crazy smart? Stupid?
While people the world over are making New Years Resolutions to lose weight or not spend so much time online or spend more time with loved ones, I’m sticking with my resolution from a decade ago. To not make a resolution.
Why make a resolution that you’ll most likely fall short on, or forget entirely? Instead, I skip the practice all together.
I had the baby on December 12th. Months before she popped out of my puffy body, I told myself I’d lose the baby weight. I’d lost a good amount of weight before I’d gotten knocked up, due to a medical condition that was exacerbated by my weight. When I got in the baby way, I’d been at my lowest weight in many years, and I was proud.
While I knew I’d gain weight during pregnancy (though it didn’t start until about four months along), I knew if do what I had to to lose it again.
So that resolution idea was made a long time before the new year.
And why make any other? There are two many things I want to change, to do different, to do more of, to choose a single one. I’ll just do what I can to achieve (or attempt to achieve) all these goals.