What to say? Oh, what to say? This is a challenging week, and it’s only Wednesday. My blood pressure has been through the roof from stress since last week. Medication gets taken as needed, and then I get sleepy. Under normal circumstances, my blood pressure is always normal, unless you piss me off. Needless to say, I’ve been irked, to say the least.
I don’t have much to say, but it makes me feel bad to not post. All I can say is that I am dealing with some unpleasant things in my personal life, and desperately trying to help someone. I will be writing about that soon.
The highlights of my day, thus far: A) Kitten throwing a ball into her water dish and, instead of waiting for me to take it out and change her water, she simply waited for about a minute, and then proceeded to pick it up with her fangs and run off with it. Gross, yes, but cute. Cats do the silliest things. I cannot believe how much she has grown since I brought her littleness home.
Second highlight: My Rabbi called. No, this is not me “going religious on you”. I spent damn near my entire life feeling persecuted by all aspects of my faith. From houses of worship to my extended family; I was not considered “Jewish enough”. How is that even possible? I can trace my ancestry back to 85 B.C. On both sides of my family, we have never been anything else religiously. On my father’s side of the family, we are descended from Aaron, who, if you’ve followed the Old Testament, was the brother of Moses. Technically, because it is patriarchal, it passes down to my brother and not to me. My Mom’s side is a story for another day. So, my Rabbi called and we had a good conversation. I cannot explain how comforting it is to be accepted and treated with respect by a ‘Man of God’. Whenever he says “I will pray for you.”, magical things happen. I am positive he has a direct line. I was just talking about him yesterday and my phone rings this afternoon. Just seeing his name on the caller ID put me at peace.
Aside from that, I am dealing with the 20 degree drop in temperature that was so sudden, I hurt from head to toe. It’s a cold, grey day and all I want to see is some real rain and maybe even a good, old-fashioned thunderstorm. Let’s mix it up a bit. I also want a pint of ice cream and a good cry, but hey, we can’t have everything we ask for.
Ultimately, like so many others, I am just trying to get through my day/week/month. We all have our struggles and things that are tough to handle. We all have something that makes us happy or smile, even if it’s not something major, it’s still valuable to us. I sometimes find it difficult to laugh and smile through the pain, or find humor in things when I’m terribly upset, but eventually, I do find things that numb or help me heal. I simply want to get over this hurdle and begin the healing process. But this time, I am not going to allow anyone to talk me into emotionally neutering myself. Not only is it unhealthy, but it’s not who I am.
Oh, and a happy belated birthday to one of my favorite men on the planet. You crack me up, T.
Also, a VERY happy belated birthday to my Aunt, who will be reading this eventually. XOXO.
When someone brings you two pies, each covered in chunks of Oreo cookies, with an Oreo cookie crust, and whipped cream as the filling to this confection, do you ignore this sugary delight before you (Especially when you’ve had minimal sugar for months on end.) or do you blissfully enjoy a few bites?
I have a love/hate relationship with sweets. (I said sweets, not chocolate. Dark chocolate and I are on a first name basis.) I know that too much sugar is not a good thing for anyone, but a sweet treat once in a while is not going to prematurely age you, nor will it kill you (Unless you’re diabetic and truly cannot have even small amounts of anything that is made with real sugar.). People who claim they “don’t eat sweets”, but eat pounds of fruit aren’t being realistic about their sugar intake. Natural sugar and sugar in desserts is processed the same way by the body. We know if we’re eating chocolate or peaches, but our body simply takes the vitamins from the fruit and uses what is needed, or it allows the chocolate to “calm the beast”, but after that, your body does the same thing with it, regardless of what type of sugar is may be.
Some people are traditionalists; they’ll only eat breakfast food for breakfast and “dinner food” for dinner. Me? I will reheat pizza or even Chinese food for breakfast if that’s what I’m in the mood for. Sometimes I will make breakfast food for dinner, because that’s what I felt like making/eating. Sometimes cooking an elaborate meal is simply too exhausting, so I will do whatever takes between 10-30 minutes, or less. I cook a LOT, so there are days I simply want to go on strike and not cook again for a month. This stems from exhaustion of the soul and honestly not giving a damn about what’s being prepared However, if I did go on strike, I’d probably starve, so I cook. No matter how many times you make different things, it all becomes boring at some point. I eat to live.
This is precisely why you sometimes need to be a little crazy and have pie for breakfast, or whatever suits your fancy.
For every weather site and app that predicted thunderstorms last night into today; I am not happy with you. Deliver your predictions, lest people start believing that you “cold read” the weather to begin with and aren’t actually looking at all the colorful charts and fancy equipment you like to show us and claim is being used to “detect storms in the area”. Cat and kitten are better at predicting the weather accurately, you should all be ashamed of yourselves!
Has anyone else felt the intensity of this full moon? I’ve been ready to outright harm someone since about mid-day. Mind you, I’m very in tune with the elements, so that might have something to do with that. Moreover, some people are assholes and do not deserve the attention, and yet, people are wandering around the interwebs today causing drama and trying to place blame on others. Intelligent people with intelligent comments and opinions are not a part of the “clique of the dumb”. Everyone wants to be something that they’re not, and yet they all feel as though they’re a special part of an extremely large crowd. Ask me how many people I’ve had to block today…because the number is astounding. Simply put; I will not engage with morons. You get one chance with me and if you blow it, I’m done. Plus, I’m still trying to cope with the Polyamory group that somehow sought me out (I don’t get it, but to each their own. Obviously I’m not ignorant, I fully know what it is, etc., it’s just not my personal cup of tea.). I can barely tolerate one person at a time, you want me to add MORE people to my love life?! Clearly, the “invite” was sent to the WRONG Lisa Marino. This one is too busy today, tonight, and every day until I die. Try me in the afterlife, maybe I’ll entertain the notion then, which is precisely when I suspect I will be bored. At least Walmart was happy to send me a message about a whistling tea kettle. If only their site-to-store time wasn’t so long. They say it’s not, but I once waited nearly four months for an item I ordered that was only supposed to take two weeks. That item now sits in my laundry room, clean and unused because it is way too heavy for my bed and I suspect cat and kitten would claw it to bits.
Is it terrible that all I want to do is watch the basketball game and eat dinner? I tried taking a nap earlier and HE annoyed me in his search for a screwdriver to “fix a belt”. I’m not sure how fixing a belt equates to “Do you have any clear nail polish?”
I was in bed last night right after The Blacklist ended (If you don’t watch this show, you should. I never intended for it to become something I watch, but the pilot had me hooked from day one.). I flew up the steps, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and after double-checking cat bowls, got into bed. I slept well, until about 5:30 when I started smelling coffee. You know what that means, right?
Just yesterday I told Him “Do not touch my non-dairy creamer. I need it for my tea.” I made threats, none of which were nice, all of which were serious. I take tea time very seriously. When you drink 3-5 cups of tea a day, it’s clearly something you enjoy. I like mine a certain way and plain is not on that list.
I went downstairs in search of the smell, but He was in hiding, and rightly so. When I find him, it won’t be pretty. I fed cat and kitten and stomped back up the steps, furious, but still in need of additional beauty sleep. I was able to get a little more sleep, and have been awake ever since. He is going out later and replacing my creamer because I am not pleased that I can’t have tea until it arrives. Bastard.
This morning, waking up was not what I had in mind at all. It feels like a Saturday, perhaps because it is deathly quiet out. Apparently the kids are not in school this week, which makes no sense to me since Passover is next week and I don’t know how prudent it is for them to have two weeks off, but whatever. Not my circus, not my monkeys.
I’m stressed and I HURT. The weather keeps going back and forth between the 20’s and the 60’s, and while it is utterly beautiful to have milder temperatures, even if it’s a rainy day, it still messes with my body.
I have no plans this holiday weekend. Technically, Passover begins tonight at sundown. My family is scattered across the States and overseas, so I’m not attending any seders, nor was I invited to any. I will keep editing this manuscript so that I can move on to the others she has in store for me, and watch The Hunger Games: Mockingjay Part 1. I’m trying to make tentative plans for tomorrow, just to be able to enjoy the day for a few hours out of doors, but nothing is etched in stone. If I’m feeling up to it, maybe I’ll just take a long walk.
As I’ve said before, the holidays are lonely. I miss my parents and Grandparents terribly. Loss often feels like it happened yesterday, but the years come and go and life moves on, even if the pain of each loss remains with you. I find myself astounded by people who never seem to be affected by the loss of a loved one, who return to work immediately, who never discuss the person again, etc. Are people really that cold and detached, or is that the “coping mechanism” utilized by most people? What is your take on that?
Regardless of what you celebrate, I wish you a wonderful holiday filled with family, friends, laughter, joy, and peace. Me? I just want my tea. LOL.
The days are way too long. The nights are too fucking short. Sleep is hard to come by, but man, I’m trying. I was raised to believe that doing your best is “enough”, providing it is truly “your best”.
I suffer from “Superwoman Syndrome”. This is a real thing. I’m an overachiever that has this unbelievable difficulty asking for help. Perhaps it stems from constantly being stabbed in the back when I HAVE asked for help in the past, or because people like to throw things in your face as if they are owed something. “I was there for you when…” are probably not wise words to hurl in my direction. If I’m there for someone, it is genuine, and I don’t have to say “I told you so.” years down the road. If you don’t want to be there for someone, don’t be, but that’s on you.
Fibromyalgia makes life harder than it needs to be. I used to be able to walk for miles on end, doing countless things along the way, and then walk back. It was never a big deal. Now, I actually have to gather strength to run errands and take care of very basic needs. It’s pathetic. And the last thing in the world I need is for anyone to point it out to me, as if I don’t already know that I’m slow. “We just went without you because we didn’t want to wait three hours for you to get ready.” NICE. Yes, that’s sarcasm.
Even without Fibromyalgia, I was already a pretty isolated individual. I had (and still have) a very small group of close friends and my family. I spent my days writing and editing, and I still do. It’s not the kind of thing I do in public. I’m an introverted extrovert. The people that see me work my ass off are cat and kitten, they know Mommy’s working. Pretty much everyone else thinks I do absolutely nothing, because I’m very quiet and they rarely see me. When you don’t do what everyone else does in terms of “normal”, people automatically make wild assumptions. It would be very nice indeed to do absolutely nothing. Attach a six figure salary to that and I will sign up immediately. Shit, I’d love to do “nothing” by spending my days at the mall, or the bookstore, or any number of places that I haven’t been in the last four years, or longer.
The most important thing to me now is having emotional support. I’m going into some horrific, tough battles and all I really want is to be heard, understood, and cared about. I’d rather a person not have the right words, and say a prayer for me.
There are no heroes in this. I have my Superwoman cape and I’m not giving it back, but all kidding aside, being supported means a great deal to me. The simple fact that I’m asking for it shows me that I’ve grown. Help and support, that’s all I need at the moment.
I woke up this morning hearing my name being called. At 4:00 a.m. I woke up screaming, mostly because I’m tired, in pain, and did not want to be disturbed. I truly wanted to wake up refreshed, even if it meant I had to take something for pain later on, I just wanted the goddamn rest!
But when I sat up and took inventory, the only noise was from the central air, lightly blowing heat into the room (It was freezing last night, which is a far cry from how warm it has gotten since then.). I decided to investigate this further. For starters, I was pissed and two, I had just scared the hell out of cat and kitten, who had been sound asleep with me; one wrapped around me like ivy, the other off to the side staring at me like I’d just grown three additional heads.
In fairness, I checked EVERYTHING. Lights off? Check. TV off? Check. Cell phone off? Check. Anything else that could or would make noise was either unplugged or nowhere near me to actually be saying my name repeatedly. So, that took care of logic. But the simple fact is, in my life, where intuition rules and logic does not, why was I bothering to go with logic at all when I already knew that I’d turned every single thing off the night before?
It’s not like it was “noise”. It was a man’s voice repeatedly calling out for me. If that’s weird to you, I have to say that it’s par for the course in my life. Unfortunately, the voice was not distinctive, so I can’t say for sure who it was that needed me to wake up and pay attention.
When things of this nature happen, the first thing I do is check the time. That’s probably odd to the everyday, average person, but to someone who has studied numerology and has her life path number tattooed on her, it’s not odd at all. Spirits will often communicate to people in symbols, and numbers and time are two things that are easy enough to catch when they are repetitive. The time-frame was off, so I can only say that I’ve been thinking about a male relative for the last few days. Earlier, when I was cleaning out my closet, I found something of his and put it in the “Keep” pile immediately, pausing briefly because I have NO idea how it got in my closet, or when.
This relative passed away almost four years ago. I’m shocked that so much time has passed because it still hurts me as if it just happened.
Soon after his very sudden passing, I had a dream where he let me know he was okay. Again, this is not uncommon in my life. Lately, I’ve found myself avoiding photos, video, and anything pertaining to him because I often think “If he were here, he’d fix this.” or “If he were here, everything would be better.” He was more than just my family, he was the person that automatically had your back no matter what. He was the person who did things for you that he did not have to do, and he did it completely out of love, not because he wanted anyone to be indebted to him, be it figuratively or other. He worked hard, loved hard, cared hard, and he never made me feel like I was anything short of ridiculously special.
Some people’s lives are cut short by things they didn’t know they had, like a bad heart or cancer that gave the person no indication whatsoever that something was wrong. I’ll never forget getting the news, because my brother had to be the one to tell me. He knew in advance that this was NOT going to go well. I saw him visibly cringe before he spoke. I was halfway down my stairs when he spit the words out. I nearly fell those last few steps. I remember sinking to the floor at the bottom of the stairs in absolute disbelief. I actually said “You’re lying.”
He wasn’t. I spent months obsessing over every single detail that led to his death. It still haunts me.
I’ve lost a lot of people in my life, but I always said that if I lost my mother and him, I’d have to be buried with them. I lost my mother three years before I lost him. Their dates of death are just days apart. I lost her to damn near the exact same thing. Both too young to die. Both stolen from me. Both let me know they were okay within three days of passing away.
A lot of people think their mind is playing tricks on them; that they want to see their loved one so badly that they’re seeing “what they want to see”. I feel bad for you if you do not understand what a gift it is to get that moment where your loved one cares enough to say “I’m okay, and you will be too.”
If you’re a spiritual person and you believe in the afterlife, I strongly recommend reading “One Last Time” by John Edward. You can walk away from it the way I did 15 years ago, as a completely different person, or you can put it down and never pick it up again, the choice is entirely up to you.
Sometimes we are defined by the things that happen to use and how we cope in the aftermath, and other times we are defined by small moments, like reading a book, and walking away with a completely changed life. It’s the difference between being plugged in to life and plugged in to life and all its many nuances, things you never would have noticed without a tiny push in the right direction.
Being spiritual and believing in the afterlife is different from being religious. You can religious, and not be spiritual, and vice versa. So, if what I’ve said makes you uncomfortable, I simply challenge you to find a copy of this book and read it. After all, what have you got to lose?
It’s no secret: I’m fucking exhausted. Fibromyalgia, migraines, and two hundred truckloads of stress are slowly trying to kill me. Every day, I wonder if a heart attack or a stroke will take me out. I wish I were being dramatic, but I’m not. I would really like to curl up on the floor like a content cat and be left to my own devices. In my next life, I am definitely coming back as one…
In other news; Passover begins later this week just in time for the full moon and today is Palm Sunday, with Easter Sunday being next weekend. The former meaning something to me, the latter meaning “It’s Sunday.” I’m Jewish, which I know is not something people expect, but I’ve never hidden the fact.
Holidays are stressful for me, and depressing. Apart from my brother, all of my family is far away. I don’t speak to 9/4’s of them, and with just cause. I do not get invited to anything except funerals (Who the hell e-mails someone else in the family and asks them to deliver the news to me, and expects me to trek out 3+ hours to be treated like shit?) , and Passover in particular is one of those holidays that I hated growing up and have a terrible aversion to as an adult. This is a holiday where I am grateful to be an intelligent, creative, free spirit, yet under the tyranny of my nation’s President, as opposed to Pharaoh, which for me, is the same fucking thing. What won’t Americans be allowed to do tomorrow? Your guess is as good as mine, and I’m sick of it.
Holidays are often isolating if you suffer from a chronic illness that others refuse to understand and/or take into consideration. If family alienates you and friends drift to the wayside, or make themselves unavailable, it can be quite lonely. Do I want a house full of people for every single holiday? No, but would it be nice to have a few people around to do something with? Yes. In the end, I will probably be working on the never-ending manuscript (It’s really not that long, I’m just that tired.) and listening to music, or something as relatively laid back as possible. If you have a good move recommendation, please, send it along!
It is hard to believe we move into another month this week. Tempus fugit. The knowledge makes me ill (I have my reasons.). The truth is, before we know it, it will be Fall or Winter again, thus the cycle will continue. It’s always something. No matter what you’re going though, the world keeps on moving in various directions. You will agree with some and disagree with others. Such in the pattern of life.
I have a lot to do this coming week, so I made a list. I think it’s a good time to let people know you’re thinking of them by sending out cards, especially if you haven’t done so in a while, and make phone calls to touch base. Texting doesn’t count with this one. Since I can’t bear to talk to certain people at the moment, cards will have to suffice. After all, it is the thought behind the action that counts. 🙂
Here’s hoping everyone had a lovely, relaxing, productive weekend.
We know where you live Mommy, and it is not beneath us to display our utter cuteness for you to gain food, treats, or head scratches.
I have no idea why Friday, Saturday, and Sunday have become my favorite days of the week, but lately, I just can’t handle week days. Does anyone else feel like this?
I’ve had a rough week. I’ve been in a lot of pain and have required way more sleep than any single person my age should need (Still young, still fabulous. 😛 ). I work and then I look at the time, realizing that I’ve done a lot in short bursts of time, but that now that I’ve gotten work done, it’s time to close my eyes “for a little while”. The next thing I know, the day is over. I wake up from that brief little “nap”, check the time, and my cat and kitten are wrapped around each other. Apparently some kind of love fest goes on when I’m down for the count. I almost always have to be in bed and half asleep or completely out of it before they go into “love mode”.
Passive, sweet cat. Troublesome, but incredibly loving kitten. (You can see their photos on my About page.) They’re good for each other and they’re good for me, because without them, I wouldn’t get out of bed at all. There are many mornings when they’re both pacing around me, marking my face with theirs (kitten does this), to encourage me to go downstairs and give them breakfast. If that doesn’t work, they start bringing toys into the bed. I have no idea where either of them are, but I know that if the food is not delivered in a timely fashion, they will try to curry my favor with gifts. I can’t tell you how many times they’ve both placed gifts in my bathtub as a reminder, as if I’ve ever forgotten to feed them.
I’m VERY lucky, they’re relatively well-behaved and sweet. They’ve got attitude, but mostly, they know that they are loved and safe. When I’m in a terrible amount of pain, one or both of them will get into bed as soon as I’m comfortable and either lay by my feet or by my head, and they do not move until they see me calm down and fall asleep, and even then, I still wake up with them close by. There is a sweetness to that which makes me emotional at times. My cat is a lot less openly loving than my kitten, but I have a bond with both of them and I see how they call for me and come to visit me when I’m working. Basically, I get treated like one of them. Perhaps this is why they often place toys under my butt and then try to bite me awake. Sassy’s been doing this since she was a baby, and at 19 months, it wasn’t that long ago that she was the ruler of the roost and tiny, aggressively shoving me awake and demanding food constantly. Now that there are two little beasts, I have them on a schedule. She’s no longer interested in most games (my little one wants to play, but also self-entertains), but is happy to bite my feet or grab my ankle for a nip if she’s feel froggy.
Now that Miss Sass has a constant playmate, she’s no longer ripping me to shreds and biting me. Her breed isn’t known for a lot of verbal communication, so she spent ten months aggressively hurting me several times a day until I found her the perfect little companion. It was NOT love at first sight. It took about a week or so, and they slowly became obsessed with each other. Mini is also incredibly obsessed with me, but she’s still a baby.
What else is going on? Oh, yes! Because I’m a total hypocrite (And honest enough to admit it.), I am back on Facebook. My original account is still up in the air. Facebook and I have exchanged countless e-mails, and nothing has been worked out, so I waited a while and established a new account. I intentionally linked it to my cell phone which somehow authenticates that I am indeed a “real person” and not the countless things I was accused of in all of their e-mails back in January. If you want to pal around with me, let me know and I will send you my new hypocritical info.
Speaking of which, Facebook has changed quite a bit since I was gone. I am pretty sure someone peed in everyone’s coffee this morning because for every 30 people who liked something I said, I had one person go ballistic. To avoid future problems, I’m keeping a low profile. However, when subjects are open for discussion and you don’t know a person, I think it’s crucial not to call them “OCD” or “rude”, especially since you’re clearly not understanding the context. I was called both this morning by two absolute idiots. Mind you, gutless wonders like to hide behind their computers and spew horse shit.
My first thought was “Go fuck yourself!”, but I decided not to lower myself to their levels. Second, throwing obsessive compulsive disorder around as some sort of joke or insult is incredibly rude, and when one is not a healthcare professional, one has no right to say that to someone they do not know and have never met. That actually IS rude. Disagreeing with someone isn’t rude, we’re all entitled to do so.
I’m a supportive writer. I’m going to be honest, polite, and concise because that’s how I am. I’ve NEVER been rude on Facebook or any form of social media that I am aware of. If anyone has ever read my work and deemed me rude, then that was YOUR perception and not the facts. I’m not Ms. Sweetness & Light, I do not throw rainbows at you, nor do I shoot sugared unicorns when one deserves venom.
There is a fine line between sharing thoughts and being a bitch. I don’t bring out the bitch side unless it is warranted and I don’t do it on Facebook because I have a professional reputation to uphold. If I wouldn’t say something to your face, then I certainly wouldn’t say it behind your back or in a public forum. That’s not how I operate.
People like to throw my astrological sign into play in their “defense” quite a bit, but the truth is, I’m a pretty controlled Scorpio female. I might not always have been, but I learned a long time ago to get the negative aspects under control or they would control me. Lesson learned, and once broken of those habits, I did not return to them.
“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” That’s a load of shit. Words can hurt, they do hurt, and people throw them out there like it’s no big deal. I’m known for my “say anything” policy, but there ARE things I absolutely won’t say because I have morals, dignity, manners, self-respect, and boundaries. Some things are so below the belt that you simply don’t go there. You can think them, but then you must let them go because that kind of negativity breeds more negativity, and it’s unhealthy.
More and more, people are offended by anything and everything, but they care little for who THEY might offend. They have no manners or coping mechanisms for difference of opinion or basic relationship skills. Junior high school drama wasn’t cute in junior high school, and I won’t tolerate it as an adult. By all means, disagree with me. That’s fine. If you don’t know the context in which I mean something, don’t assume, ask. Judge not lest ye be judged.
Overall, I’m glad to have the account for my cousins and the few real friends I have, and for specific things that I’ve discussed here many times, but outside of that, I realize that I don’t miss it and that it’s a terrible waste of time. Who knew I’d grow to love Twitter?! By the way, thank you Lillian for suggesting it, and for clearly being a friend to me when others are full of crap (Link to her blog is attached to her name.). You go away for less than two months and you actually find out who your REAL friends & family are, both on and off social media. How utterly pathetic. True colors are shining bright and a lot of people are chicken-shit yellow. C’est la vie.
Also, there is a brand new blog, started by one of my best friends, that I am going to be interviewed for. I will make sure the link goes up ASAP.
And on that note, I hope you all have a lovely weekend. If you’re an NCAA fan, I hope you’re cheering for my team tonight in the Sweet 16. 🙂 GO DUKE!
This morning I said that I would push myself to work on this manuscript. I’ve revised portions of it so many times that it’s caused me to not go further into the manuscript than I normally would at this particular point in time. That irritates me, but my client is pleased and said she’d rather I be honest and do it right, than not be able to understand why I cut certain things and why there are thousands of words full of notes. I’m around 5000 additional words, all of which are notes and suggestions, and I’m not even halfway done, which is completely unlike me. Yes, I’ve been sick and in a lot of pain and I’ve got things going on in my real life that are sucking time away, but in truth, it’s no excuse.
For two hours this morning, I worked my ass off. When I finally glanced down at the time, I was surprised how much work I’d done in those two hours. I have a sneaking suspicion that I was able to get more work done in that short period of time than perhaps in all these weeks. Sad, but true. I own it.
As it nears 5:00 PM EDT, I simply want to crawl into my bed and not leave unless A) I need the bathroom or B) I get a headache from too much sleep (Yes, this can happen to people.). My body is demanding rest. The thought of cooking dinner, feeding the girls, and then beginning the female process of “getting ready for bed” makes me want to fall on the floor. If I’d remembered to eat earlier in the day, I’d skip dinner and go straight to the “getting ready for bed” part. Alas, I did not remember, so there is much to be done. Here’s hoping I don’t lose what’s left of my mind in the process.
Author’s Note: This does not pertain to the non-idiots of the world, of which the ratio seems to be smaller by the day.
Patience is not my strong suit. It’s a fact, so I’m being clear about it. And yet, with my severe lack of patience, every idiot in the world is somehow finding me. Where the hell did all the smart people go?!
You can tell me I’m crazy, or you can simply nod in understanding. Take your pick. When I’m wrong, I say I’m wrong, but when I’m right…I am woman enough to admit it. Thankfully, I am often right, mainly because I don’t open my mouth if I’m 100% wrong. I’m smart enough not to. So, here’s my short list of pissed off rants.
I purchased something on eBay that never arrived. I immediately requested a refund. The seller wanted me to wait another two weeks “in case it arrives late”. It didn’t. Now the seller is claiming that I cannot be refunded, “PayPal will not allow it”, and suggests they re-send the item which will take approximately TWO MONTHS to get here. If it didn’t arrive the first time, do they really think I want to wait another 45-60 days? I’m calling PayPal stat. FYI: This was not an expensive item. The whole point of using PayPal is to protect yourself from things of this nature. I’m starting to wonder what the hell compels me to occasionally purchase something from countries with questionable shipping regulations.
A woman purchased a mineral foundation from me on eBay. My listing was clear, concise, and specifically states that I do not accept returns. She purchases, pays, and the item arrives. She leaves me positive feedback, and then files a “Request To Return Item” with eBay. UN-BELIEVABLE. eBay states that I do not have to accept returns because my listings all state that I don’t. She claims she “bought the wrong shade”. She bought it with plenty of time to spare and could have said something to me in advance of my shipping it, but instead, she paid right away and I shipped it to her. How do I warrant positive feedback and no personal message asking if I’ll accept a return if she states that she was satisfied with five-star feedback? I ALWAYS communicate directly with a seller if there’s even the slightest issue. I think we can all agree that I shouldn’t be forced to let her have a refund AND keep an item she opened when it was shipped sealed. I don’t think it’s my job to do the color research for her that she should have done at ANY store, or on the Internet. If you’re buying any type of foundation for the first time, test it out somewhere first, especially if you’re looking to save money by buying it on eBay. I’ve never bought foundation without first knowing the color would be a match, but if I did, I knew the company I was purchasing it from accepted returns within 30-120 days. This just plain irritates me.
I stupidly offered to help out a fellow writer in January by editing her manuscript. She said she could not afford an editor, so I stepped up and said I would do it “in my spare time”. I was abundantly clear that I’d do it “in my spare time”. That actually means “when I have a few minutes, I’ll work on it, but not all at once”. It does not mean “I’ll prioritize your work like the customers that pay for my work”. I cannot afford to do that. I will treat her with the same respect and courtesy, yes, but is her manuscript my first working priority? No. I made that very clear. I don’t need a pat on the back for an act of kindness, but I’d really like the incessant whining e-mails to stop. The other day she sends me a message to ask if I think she should remove some characters (YES!), because she’s considering revising it by omitting a whole bunch, but also wants to flesh out others (all of a sudden. How much work does she expect for free?!?). I told her I could not make that decision for her and that if she is going to make that choice to forward me the revised manuscript at her convenience. I have a paying customer whose work I MUST focus on. (I did NOT say the last part, but I did want to locate a spoon to remove my eyeballs.)
How is that people take a simple discussion and make it all about religion? How is “I’m a Christian” an answer to something that does not involve religion AT ALL? The subject then turns to the painting ‘The Last Supper’ by Leonardo da Vinci. Any idiot with half a brain knows that this particular, not to mention famous, painting is not called “The Da Vinci Code”, right? I had to stifle myself from pulling out my own hair. No wonder other countries are so much smarter than Americans! Even better, some idiot says “I think it was supposed to be a metaphor.” Umm, NO. If you’re trying to debate with someone and you involve religion and a book that is probably based on some semblance of fact, then have the fucking facts, use spell check, and know what you’re talking about before you open your mouth. Moreover, a work of fiction has NOTHING to do with Jesus and your personal beliefs regarding such. (I’d say more on the subject, but it’s not a wise idea.)
Another idiot asks if it’s okay to publish a book with all of the following: Spelling errors, poor grammar, broken thoughts, slurred words, etc., because she wants it to be “authentic” to having had a stroke and wants the readers to “be her” because she had to relearn everything after the stroke. I understand that. I’m not ignorant, but by disagreeing with a group of professionals, she turned a conversation from civil to vicious. I said that I’d hire someone to collaborate with her (NOT a ghost writer, but someone who can make all of her thoughts cohesive since her thoughts are all randomized due to memory loss.). She made a lot of excuses for herself to the point where the words “That is victim mentality.” finally were posted. Her response was “I AM a victim.” She also said “I am the stroke.” No, you’re not. The stroke happened to you, it is NOT who YOU are, and by allowing yourself to keep on thinking that, you encourage the victim mentality instead of growing from this tragedy and allowing yourself to move forward and heal. Why else would you want to tell a story about it? While I empathize with her plight, no publisher in their right mind would allow that to be greenlit the way she intended to do it. I do not know a single editor that would let that slide. It would be nonsensical gibberish and no one would be able to follow it, unless, perhaps, it was only released as an audiobook. I finally had to say “Good luck.”, because while the conversation started out well, it was going nowhere fast and was about to get ugly. The moderator stepped in and deleted the entire thing. How sad is that? You pretty much know you’re causing problems when someone out-right deletes everything you just said and, knowing how things are now, probably booted her or gave her a personal warning.
It comes down to this: The older I get, the less I understand people and the less I want to understand people. The things that bother people, based on what I’ve seen and heard, are pretty unimportant, superficial things. The things that people allow to slide are actually pretty serious issues, and yet everyone wants to sweep that shit underneath the thickest rug possible. I have to be true to myself and sweeping things under the rug isn’t how I do things.
Life is long, hard, and oftentimes, lonely as hell. When you go to someone in search of advice, it is ultimately still your decision whether or not to take that advice. I wish people would stop coming to me for quality advice and doing the exact opposite in the end, but hey, that’s THEIR issue, not mine. I generally don’t ask for advice because I was raised to trust myself and trust my intuition, but there are far too many people who insist on spewing stupidity at me, as if I asked for their opinion or advice. They don’t understand that their words aren’t warranted unless asked for.
It’s very important to me to be my authentic self, but sometimes I have to walk away from the idiots because in the grand scheme of things, they all seem to enjoy their idiocy way too much. I simply do not have time for that.
Written by LISA MARINO-Molchanova 