I couldn’t sleep. I woke up at 1:00 am and my mind was racing. I’m not sure what to call him. I suppose after 7 years together there should be a more defined role or title except I don’t feel it. It would be a bold faced lie to say it’s my significant other. I have an engagement ring that lines my jewelery box. I’ve always been a free spirit. The ability to walk away from relationships and bad situations. Except for this nightmare.
In my 20’s I thought it was crazy for women to stay in bad situations. Especially when they had children. Then I had my daughter. Something become clear. The fact that my poor decision would now affect her entire life and I had to live with that. The weight of that was like atlas carrying the world on his shoulder. So I stayed. Knowing one day I’d take my passport and my shit let my daughter know I’m out. Catch me in Europe. I’d served my time. The irony between my plan and my own mothers disappearance does not elude me.
Last night I couldn’t sleep. My “partner” told me my dad fell out of the car when he was getting out for dialysis. He couldn’t get up. My stomach dropped. The stress has magnified. The pressure intensified. That coupled with a lunatic that you have to walk on egg shells with are the recipe for a stroke or a heart attack. I’ve never met a person I couldn’t speak with. I deal with difficult high strung professionals and even then, nasty or not I can communicate. I can peg them. I can asses who I’m dealing with and how to deal with them.
I’ve never been in a situation where I couldn’t express myself. Where it’s like North Korea. You can’t express anything outside of the designated permitted forms of expression. Trust me, I am expressive. The moral is that the anx I felt came from knowing my dad fell and he didn’t want me to know. My limited ability to be everywhere, and the argument that ensued with this so called partner. The partner proceeded to spout how this was his fucking apartment and he didn’t want a nurse here until it’s spic and span. The problem is he has shit all over the place. But in his eyes this is not a problem. When you deal with someone who’s issues are everyone else’s except his own, where everything is someone’s fault but their own, there is no winning.
I take great issue with people who have a need to try to exert their power. In my eyes, they’re weak. If you need to hold power over someone who can’t or just because, know that you are weak. A strong and powerful person doesn’t need to exert power over anyone. People will do your will because they respect you and you command so. Not out of force like a dictatorship where it’s done out of fear. Fear is the seed of resentment, after resentment anger grows. There’s a phrase I say all the time that I stand by. “Those who need to control are they themselves out of control.” That’s what I’m dealing with. A cyclone of a personality and my life.
I’m not complaining by any means. I’m simply acknowledging what I know and that’s the similarity between myself and my mothers decision to one day pack her shit and leave. Except one massive difference. My father was not a bad person in his entirety. He made poor decisions but I chalk that up to a lack of education. But he took care of us, made sure we lacked nothing. As strong as his personality was, I know he loved me. That his intent was never to hurt me. That’s the defining difference. The difference is that I’m genuine. This partner is selfish. He does everything for the added bonus. Oh here let me help you with this, so later I can hold it over your head. Sure if you need my help now you can’t say anything to me. Here’s a 100 bucks but when I need you there’s no out. And that to me is disgusting…
All I do all day is fight. I literally spend at least 4 hours of my day responding to immigration conjuring arguments. By the time I’m done, I just want to concede. So my tactic for everyday life after work is to try and concede. That means, if I open my bill and it’s $400 I’m paying the shit. I don’t want to be bothered with a long drawn out battle of wits to see what the fuck is going on. I don’t care what’s going on. It’s not because I’m Rockefeller shitting gold bricks. It’s because I’m tired and resigned. When others who don’t do shit don’t understand this attitude it’s because exactly that you don’t do shit about shit.
Today I had a dispute at our property because they shut the water off. The bill was paid; $400 payment in January the $230 balance paid this month. Why my bill is outrageous I don’t know. This isn’t new. Somehow even though I pay this, the fact the water was off was somehow my fault. That is also equally as exausting. When you’re always the scapegoat. If I pay it, maybe it’s because I don’t want to hear or deal with my significant other. Because in my eyes paying the $400 or $500 is better than listening to him. A high price to pay for silence and peace if you ask me.
I’ve washed down coats before never had an issue. Now my daughters brand new North Face is clumped. I bought it to last her about 2-3 winters minimum so I spent a pretty penny. I’m panicked. I’ve googled. I think I’ve ruined her jacket. Apparently other people have had their jacket clump and you toss in a few tennis balls call it day.
It’s midnight. I don’t have a tennis ball. I grabbed a huge children’s like soccer ball and threw it into the dryer. First it’s the panic that her father will kill me for putting the big ass ball in the front load machine. Then it’s the panic of I’ve ruined her coat that I’m not quite done paying for (thanks Macy’s) and she won’t be warm again.
Who the fuck does this? I’ll tell you who? I do. The dryer is banging around like I’ve thrown a body in it. I think I see feathers… does this mean they’re drying? Next time I’ll leave this shit to the professionals. So long as her father hasn’t killed me, I’ll let you know if it worked.
It’s been a while, I know. The elections hit hard, life kept going it’s like a runaway train. One thing that’s the same is the bathroom at my office. The public bathrooms are worst than the gas station ones. They are disgusting. There is never toilet paper or soap and they smell like theyre cleaned with dirty mops. It’s literally disgusting. Sometimes, the tenants I can presume pee the seats or do other vile things. The first thing I do when I walk in the bathroom is asssess if it’s safe to enter the stalls.
Then I proceed to Spider-Man in the stall by using the potty without touching an inch of the cell. It’s like a remastered game of twister. Yesterday, I inspected a stall and it passed. Until I looked down on the floor. I saw a smudge of brown. This whole time I start having my own conversation going, it can’t be. No fucking way. Is that shit? So yes I’m in a stall having this conversation outloud. I gather my strength and move my left foot just an inch and that’s when I see it. My foot left a mark. Now I’m like omg! Omg! There’s shit on my shoe.
I hurry along to get out. Only to check my left boot. When I lift my foot, there is shit on my boot. Yes, human feces. Now I understand accidents happen, people have bowel issues. But how the fuck do you miss the big ass gaping hole meant to catch your bowel secretions? But then the kicker is how do you just drop one shit pebble 2 inches from the bowl? How does shit fall out of your pants or underwear? I mean is it an explosion in your pants? Is this a game of point the asshole and shoot? Oh I get it, you were going for the 3 point shot! Silly me!
What kills me though is this is a women’s only bathroom. How the hell do you do this? If you miss clean it up! I’ve never been in a men’s restroom but I dare to venture women’s bathrooms are far worst. All I can say is I’m not happy. I’m sure the other patrons thought I was nuts talking to myself, but you know what fuck off. I had human shit on my shoe.
Parenting and real life are like an oxymoron. In real life I’m an asshole. As a parent I can’t really teach my daughter to be one. She can grow up and choose to become one much like I did. But in good conscience I can’t teach her to be one. This my friends is a msssive conflict. Take for example the times I commute with her. I teach my daughter to say, please, thank you, excuse me. Sometimes on public transit though you get people hat practically throw you into the tracks. My asshole self handles these situations far more different than my parent self.
Parent me is more reserved, have manners blah blah. Me me is more like fuck you asshole and your entire lineage too!! This is a massive conflict. The thing is, there really is a fine line between making sure she’s not a puff cream pushover and raising Rambo. As a parent, I think it’s our responsibility to try our damndest to teach them to be good citizens that are also not going to take shit but not become a league of future bullies.
Once our kids grow up, let’s be honest the choice is strictly up to them to become who they choose to become. Our voices become the little conscience in the background. A lot like white noise..
I know I’m an asshole I’ve admitted this. Now you need to admit you like assholes because we say it how it is. Today I was about to start my journey home. Yes I said journey because in a congested city that’s what it is. I hopped on my train thinking it was another train after I got a seat got off to wait for the train I thought I needed and turns out I had been on the right train all along. Nice going!!
So while I’m standing on the platform, I come face to face with an asshole. A stupid asshole. Not the kind that makes you laugh but a dumb motherfucker. Here’s why. Have you ever stood to catch the train not in the yellow line but close enough and someone parks their big ass in front of you so their practically A) on top of you and/or B) almost eating the train? This happend to me today. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t included to shove her in the tracks. Yeah I said it. The clueless mfer made me want to shove her on the tracks. I just think it’s rude as fuck. I don’t need to go anywhere that badly that I’m going to stand on top of you and eat the train at the same time.
I just went to Starbucks and on the way home there’s always this homeless kid on the main avenue. He asked for change I ignored him and slurped my Starbucks. There is nothing physically wrong with this kid. In fact he probably looks better than me. The thing is that as I walked by I over heard him call me an asshole. I once again had the inclination to do something. This time it was to kick his teeth in where he sat. Hostile much? It’s just the point. I always help those that need help. His mother is an asshole for brining him into this world. I’m an asshole because I didn’t give you a dollar in your cup? New York is full of shelters. It’s the one state I can actually say has some kind of help. Try getting help in Florida then let’s chat. I don’t judge drug users or homeless people because you don’t know the miles they’ve walked. But who I do judge are assholes. Assholes that think their entitled. Let me tell you something no one is entitled to a god damn thing. This generation of kids is also growing up entitled and they’re in for a rude awakening. Life doesn’t owe you shit.
You’ve heard of how to lose a guy in 28 days, well this is how not to get a job. Over the past few weeks after some exposure in the hiring process, I’ve got to tell you. We’ve got some real gems out there. Today was no exception so here are 8 examples on how not to land that job.
- Call out. Understandably things happen, life happens. But you can’t schedule an interview for the next day and just call out and then expect a call back. The only motherfucker you can expect a call back from is Tone. Dial tone.
- Half a thought. There is an adage about a penny for your thoughts, well I wonder how much for a complete thought. Finish your thoughts. Don’t send your resume with a half finsihed thought. No one has a magic 8ball to finish your half processed thought nor does any employer have the desire to do so. For example: I was a junior. You were what? A fucking junior bacon cheeseburger?
- Pictures. I suppose photographs make sense in some positions. However, attaching selfies that belong on Sugardaddy.com is not the way to get that job. Remember what your soliciting exactly, a job not a “job.”
- Maybe I’m nuts but asking an employer if they’ll demand you change your face is crazy. If your face looks like you just left Ringling Brothers you surely may have to adjust your face. Especially when your face is going to be the first things clients see. That includes your chosen attire. Leave the weekends and moonlighting for just that.
- Lying about qualifications. I’m sure a few stragglers have gotten by on this merit. Maybe they’ve succeeded for a while like this. The problem is, eventually you’ll have to do something you claimed to know or understand and don’t have the slightest fucking clue what to do. It’s okay to be honest, lying not a good choice.
- Being an asshole. This one might sound like an obvious one but it’s not. First of all you don’t call a company to find out the status of your application with an attitude. What do you think is going to happen? You think your hired? Negative. Today I had someone do that. She called with an attitude guess what asshole the position has been filled. Even if it wasn’t you’ve just guaranteed dick head your not getting it. Employers normally get back to you about the application. If they don’t they might be tied up and mean to. Calling like a psycho with an attitude is not helping your cause. Calling back to start trouble by shit talking really really won’t help, but I hear there are meds to help.
- Crappy resume. It sounds utterly cliche but trust me it’s not. It’s your first impression. Sending a resume that is haphazardly thrown together = you don’t give a shit and worst of all your not serious. For me that means I’m not taking you serious either. I’ll treat your resume with the same joke attitude as your crappy resume. Typos etc. happen even to me. But taking the time to file a cover letter, make sure it’s formatted properly etc make the world of difference.
- Answers. People think that at interviews they’re talking to their bestie and shit. No. This is the real world. It’s okay to be honest about your experience but don’t walk into an organization without a solid answer like I guess. I guess nows a good time to learn. No I guess this is a good time to say get the fuck out. Next!!!
I’m always amazed at the people we have in this world of ours. We are fucked. The quality of employee candidates has shocked my senses. I couldn’t understand why schools are like parakeets teaching people skill, soft skills in college. And now I see exactly why. Because of these disasters. It’s a waste of time and resources to waste on people like this. It’s not to say valuable candidates don’t exist they do. There are plenty of fabulous candidates, you just have to go trough the turds to find the diamonds in the pile of shit. But when you do… It’s like hitting the lotto. Jackpot bitches!