Decisions

I made a decision about two weeks ago that I struggled with for about two weeks until I made it. I chose to return to work, part time and on my terms, with my old boss. Now... before you explode into a tizzy on my behalf, know that everything is going to be okay. The time apart has given us both time to grow in appreciation. It has also given me time to get clear about what I want for myself and what he truly needs from me. It has given me time to spread my wings, feel that freedom and know that that soaring freedom is where I want to live my life.

Going back to work for a few hours every week will give me the cushion I need to get back on track financially. It will relieve some of the money stress and allow me to free up the energy needed to continue to propel me forward. I feel excited and alive when I think about this venture and, actually, very surprised that I feel that way.

Things are a mess there and I feel sad about that. I had things running smoothly, had created amazing relationships with most of the vendors and had a well-oiled protocol. Things that I had taught her step-by-step for specific reasons have not been followed. I am all about using one's creativity to find new ways to do things at work as long as the creativity enhances the process rather than hindering. Ya know?

At any rate... I am back. I feel peaceful, surprisingly enough, about the decision. I feel empowered and... yeah... mostly, I feel at peace.

Opened and Closed

It occured to me this afternoon, as I drove down the road in a state of such writhing anger, that these days I am operating completely in persona when dealing with my current boss/former husband. It is painfully obvious to me that the occurences where I am in essence with him are becoming more and more rare. I feel angry about that.

I have committed to living my life congruently and in my authentic essence. When it comes to my interactions with him, though, I am generally on edge and ready to fight if he even so much as breathes in my direction. His stories have become so tiresome. I am surprised to feel myself bristle when his truck pulls up to the office. Before he has even stepped through the door, I have already donned my boxing gloves and tightened the ropes of the ring. When my cell phone rings and I see that it is him, I am aware that my jaw clenches automatically and I usually growl - sometimes even out loud.

I am having the story that he is always on the attack with me. This results with me always being on the defense. This morning is a good example of that. He called at 8:40 am. My assistant answered the phone, put it on hold and told me that Charles was holding for me. Silently I groaned. I successfully stopped my eyes from rolling before there was any indication that I was already bothered before I had even picked up the phone. I forcefully held my eyes opened so that I would not close them and groan into the darkness behind the lids.

Pasting on a smile, I placed the receiver to my ear. "Hello?"

"You wanting to start the day off on a bad note?" He snapped at me, yelling into the phone.

"What?"

"YOU wanting to start the day off on a bad note already?" He yelled louder. He was clearly pissed and I had no idea why. I hadn't talked to him since sometime yesterday afternoon, so I had no idea what the hell was wrong with him.

"What are you talking about?"

"Where the fuck you been? Why the fuck aren't you answering the phones?"

"We did answer the phone," I said aware that even though I wasn't feeling it, the remark sounded like I was talking back to him.

"I mean earlier. I have been calling you all fucking morning. Since, like, 7:30. I have called the office and your cell and you haven't been fucking answering. You fucking want to start the day off on a fucking bad note?"

Now I was pissed. I had woke up in a good mood. I had enjoyed my morning with my daughter. I had felt happy. I was feeling successful in the training of my assistant. The day was shaping up to be a great day. Up to that moment.

I closed my eyes and bit my cheek. I was angry. Raving, screaming, heated angry. And now my day was starting on a fucking bad note. I wanted to reach through the phone lines and slam his forehead into the steering wheel.

The conversation disintegrated from there. It didn't matter that my cell phone had no missed calls or any indication that he had ever called. It didn't matter that I had been working at my own desk in the back office which has no phone so I didn't hear any of the calls going into the front office. It didn't matter. He assumed I was intentionally ignoring him. He threw all sorts of pissiness my way until I declared, "I am done with this!" And hung up. Hanging up is not usually the best way to go with him because it generally pisses him off more. It's a control thing on my end. I know this. This time it worked.

But the day didn't get any better after he arrived at the office a couple hours later. I was still hopping mad and so was he. Never a good mix.

I slide into defiance when I am pushed like he has pushed me today. Rather than being smart and staying silent when I want to go into combat, I choose to go into combat. He is never an opponent that I have taken on easefully (then again, what opponent is easeful???) and, yet, I still do it. There is something about him, my relationship with him, that brings out the absolute worst possible aspects of myself, I am ashamed to admit. With very little trying, he is able to light my impossibly short fuse and I become an entire Independence Day fireworks display trapped in a five foot body.

No amount of talking myself through the episode, reminding myself to use my skills and such - none of that helped me today and rarely ever with him. I immediately forget to breathe - I haven't breathed, I am fairly certain, since 8:40 am... until just now and it is 1:00 pm. I become stupid, inauthentic and completely out of my essence.

I close my eyes in the face of this painful awareness, praying that I am going to be able to rise above this petty behavior that I succumb to time and again. I feel angry that I crash so quickly, so easily, seemingly at the drop of a pin. And then, on top of that, I feel angry at myself for still being here, all the while knowing that I am here because I choose to be. And then I feel hateful...

Here Today

The sun is here today. Yesterday was the hottest day of the year, here. We got up to over 90 degrees, which is the prediction for today, as well. Tomorrow, there is supposed to be a huge storm which will drop about a foot of snow in the mountains. Yep. Only in Utah.

I am curious about something... I hired the Kate Hudson look-alike whom my boss discovered and recommended. It seems she will be a good fit. My curiosity lies in this: prior to interviewing her, my business was SO busy. Clients were showing up at every turn in both the SBA and healing sides of my business. I was excited and feeling confident that I could leave my current job and have no financial worries. Now I am scared. No new clients. No regular clients scheduled. I am scared that I am going to make this leap and... crash.

So, I am breathing here today. I am holding on to the feelings that started this transition and the knowledge that I am traveling toward myself. And, I will just keep stepping.

Laughing

What a fabulous way to start my day! My daughter read to me from her required reading book as we drove to work. And, at a stoplight, I glanced at the bumper in front of me to see:


I laughed silently, so as not to interrupt her reading. And now, sitting here at my desk, I am chortling right out loud.

I am excited. My boss found someone he thinks will be comfortable with me training and working her into my position so I can officially leave. She is coming in to interview at 10:00 am today.

It's a good day!

Sorry Sor-ry sor-RY!

When is enough, enough? How many times can a person hear the word "sorry" before it begins to mean nothing?

If you say it enough times it sounds weird. Try it.

Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. SORRY!

Whatever!

It means nothing, really. It doesn't. Especially when it is oft-repeated for the same offenses. Time and again, Sorry.

Here, let me yell at YOU... Oh. Yeah. Sorry for yelling at you yesterday. It was wrong of me. I was mad at HER, not you.

Here, let me throw things around and stomp and slam and call you names... Oh. Yeah. Sorry for being an ass this week. My life is just so out of control.

Here, you fucked this up AGAIN!... Oh. Sorry. You do a lot of stuff good. I am just mad about this, that and the other.

Here, you fucking don't appreciate me. EVER!... Oh. Sorry. That wasn't all about you last night on the phone. I am just so stressed out.

At one point in my life, those apologies worked for me. I had hope that the word meant that something was going to change. After 17 1/2 years, after all that time of hoping things would get better with age, I am seeing that much has changed, yet more is really still the same, if not worse. After all these years of hearing that word practically more than any other word in the English language, my ears have grown deaf to it. It piles up on top of me with all the shit that proceeds it and I am weighted down and lugging along clumps of... shit. Big, heavy, oozing clumps of shit.

I am exhausted from the sound of the word.

S O R R Y

I hate it.

And I am finding myself hating the person who uses that word into nonsense.

Please, God. PLEASE! Provide the way out of here...

Time, Space and...

...and... so what would I want more of? Time, Space and Money? Time, Space and Sex? Time, Space and Love? Time, Space and Chocolate?

Or, how about all of the above?

Today I am aware that time has accelerated. I feel an urgency around me, as though I cannot go fast enough to keep up with it all. (Which, on the heels of yesterday's post, that is sorta ironic.) It seems that it (time) is sliding away from me. And space? That is so at a premium these days. My petite guest room feels confining. And here at the office, I am being booted out of my space because Current Boss needs to sublease my half of the office for financial reasons. That means I will be moved over to a not-so-spacious space, crammed in a corner and much too close to his disasterous office of compressed chaos. Then, in the airy space where I am sitting right now, there will be a bitchy primadonna interior designer who thinks his shit doesn't smell, along with his entire staff. (Apparently I am angry about this change.)

The additional personages will take up the entire half of our office space. Good for Boss Man who is rarely here. Uncomfortable for me as I will be here day in and day out having to deal with the prissy ass. Not only that, my healing space office which is on this same side as I currently sit, will be in the middle of all that. Boss Man says, "R has agreed to let you use that room your office is in," with emphasis and snide intonation on the word "let." Yes, he has so kindly agreed to let me use that space. However, I know him well enough to know that he is going to want to lord over my time there and I doubt, highly, that he will respect the need for quiet.

I feel the time rapidly approaching when I leave this place, all together. I am scared about that. I am more scared that I am not willingly doing anything to leave this place. I have a story that there is nothing out there that fits my needs. I feel scared to leave the miserable comfort here. I am angry that I am feeling the necessity to change day jobs and find a new healing space. I feel scared that I will have to pay for my new healing space. At this point, my income doesn't allow for a lot of flex room. If I get a new day job, I have a story that I will lose either my time or money. If I add the expense of a new healing space on top of that, I may lose my head.

I am aware that this post is quite incongruent, whiny and jaggedy. Which, in and of itself is very appropriate as that is how I feel right now.

I want to go back to bed. Things seem so much better with my head under the blankies.

Ye-eah. Right.

Weeping

Okay... so this is the day of many blogs (four thus far). "Enough, already!" You say? HA! I am just getting started!

Soooooooooooooooo... I started a blog a few days ago. A blog that stayed in draft for some reason, which I no longer recall. (Perhaps because the blog is now being taken out of draft and being placed in the trash.) What I had written looked something like this:

I am so excited!!! SO SO SO EXCITED!

I have been invited to join a group of women - called Master Minds - and create this marvelous manifesting energy. I think it is going to be the most beneficial thing I have done for myself yet. I attended for the first time today, not knowing what to expect, and totally got my mind blown. It was unlike anything I have ever experienced and although the entire thing was weird and wild and foreign, it was a perfect fit! I am so excited!!!

Ummmmm... yeah... so that is where I stopped. I got interrupted there and had planned on going back to tell more about my experience, about what I am playing with manifesting and how it felt.

Now, about this group... it is a closed group. In other words, people do not just come and go as they please. You are in and you are in for the long haul. There is a scheduled time, every two weeks and it is never missed. They start on time. They end on time. And that... is... that. These women have been meeting for years. One of them moved away and there is an open slot. I was so completely honored to be asked to fill it. I didn't even know this group existed. Yet, they asked me. And my dear friend who asked me said a few days before the first meeting when I was worrying about my different schedule (all of them have huge flexibility because none of them work for anyone else), "Don't worry about the scheduling. Amazing things happen with this group. If you are meant to be there, it will happen." Well, it happened the first week. Something came up and the meeting had to be miraculously moved from Tuesday (their standard day) to Friday. So I got to go.

I work Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday full time. My boss has been so gracious in accomodating me in my funky schedule and wants me to succeed in my own business. He allows me to work only Mon-Wed full time, then a couple hours on Thursdays and Fridays so that I have time to build my own business. He wants to see me happy. He supports me in my success. He wants to see me do it. I feel so very grateful for that. Because I work only Mon-Wed full time, I have to work Mon-Wed full time. All the vendors and employees know that is when the office is open.

Friday's meeting was breathtaking and life-altering and so...so... amazing. I was excited to go forward into this year with that new energy. It was something I was really looking forward to and felt like it was where I was meant to be. But, no! NO! And I am so sad about it. However, I didn't start out sad. I started out ANGRY! Hello anger...

Thing is, I really despise being shown something and then having it taken away. I have the Gift of Sight and sometimes I can see the future outcome for myself. Which is a huge detriment because then my human side gets all involved and steps in and fucks things up, trying to get to the beautiful end earlier, avoiding divine timing and forgetting about others' Free Will. Well, this group was like that for me. I got to try it out and experience it. I got to feel hmmmmm... this feels really good! This feels like I am meant to be here! This feels like a perfect fit for me!

"We're sorry," My dear friend said tentatively. "I have talked with the others and it just isn't going to work to only have it on Thursdays or Fridays. They really want to stick to the Tuesday schedule and we like the flexibility of having the entire week to pick from, if there needs to be a change."

"Well, then," I said, trying not to sound like a rejected puppy dog and failing miserably, "I will have to pull out of the group." I wanted to vomit on the words. And the anger flared up so big and strong that I wanted to throw my phone at the wall.

I could hear the dejection in her voice, "I know. I feel so sad. I'm so sorry."

And I am hearing... No, you DON'T fit in here. No, you AREN'T enough for us to open up for changing it to Thursdays or Fridays. No, you can look, but you can't touch. No, sorry, go away. Only the cool girls get to eat at this table...

I am hearing that, mind you, in my head, not my ears. The other women are really being compassionate and willing to look at the options.

They are.

However, they are unwilling to commit to keeping it on those two days so that I can commit to attending. They want five days a week open at their disposal.

(And, the enlightened side of me wants to tell you that I can totally understand their side of the stories and I see their compassion and can feel their sadness at me not being there.)

And, frankly, right now? The unenlightened side of me does not give a fuck what the enlightened side is saying. It is one more thing that I have been shown and then have had taken away from me. Why couldn't they have discussed this first? Why couldn't they have discovered they would not limit themselves to Thursdays and Fridays BEFORE they let me in?!

It would have been such a different situation if they would have just said, to start with, "So sorry, we cannot conform to a Thursday/Friday situation instead of our standard Tuesday. It won't work." I could have rolled with that. I would have not even minded, actually, because I hadn't tasted it!

But no! Now, I have tried it. It's like letting me have really good, mind-blowing, earth-transcending sex for the first and only time in my life and then saying, "Ha ha ha! No more. You got to try it out. You got to see it. Now... psyche! Nope!" (this group wasn't that good, but you catch my drift.)

I have had way too many things as of late be shown to me and, even in some instances got to try out, only to be told... nope, not for you.

I really, really hate (and, yes! I fucking said hate!) it when I hear the, "If you're meant to [fill in the blank here...] it will work out..." because, in the moment that it doesn't work out I am left with that why not me feeling. That is the worst!

I am fucking tired of it! Tired, I say! TIRED!

(And yes, goddamn it! I hear the victim in that. I need to vent to get this out and that looks like playing victim right now, apparently.)

Rhinestone Cowboy

I am giggling at this moment...

I am at work being completely unproductive. Hence the blog. I am having difficulty staying on task and would actually prefer being out in the sopping-wet, freezing-cold, drifting snowstorm than I would be in here trying to make up something that looks like work to do. While I was doing that, I found my only task to be boring me to tears. To lighten my load, I took a break and played Startris on www.king.com. I have always been a Tetris fiend. This little game is an interesting twist on an old game and I am, nonetheless, still addicted to a good thing.

While playing this, sans sound, I had my streaming internet stereo cranked loud since my daughter and I are the only ones in the office today. I am here at my boss's (a.k.a. former husband, for those of you who were blissfully unaware) behest, yet there is nothing for me to do. Hence the Startris.

Sheesh... as you can see by my bumpy train of thought here, I am so not in the frame of mind to be sitting at a computer...

Anyway... the streaming music seeped into my head and I started singing along before I realized I was doing so or what I was singing...

Like a rhinestone cowboy

Riding out on a horse in a star-spangled rodeo

Then the giggling began. I remembered back to junior high when my friend, Martin, sang this absurd song in an assembly. He was the only black boy in our school and it didn't seem odd that he was singing about being a cowboy. We just thought he was damn hot. (I have this story that black cowboys do not exist. If you are one, my apologies.) He was my buddy so I was able to sit in the auditorium amongst all the squealing girls and know that I knew him. I could lay claim to him and knew that one day I would be able to say "I knew him when..."

Today, some twenty-odd years later, I wonder... where in the world is Martin???