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…
The other night I survived my mishap with my daughters coat. It turns out that although for mechanical purposes a small basketball or soccer like ball may not make the best choice for a dryer ball but it worked. My daughters coat wasn’t ruined after all.
The feathers after following careful directions were okay. Eventually they puffed up again and the neon ball saved the day.
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.
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!
One of my favorite characters in any story of all stories is the Queen of Hearts from Alice and Wonderland. “Off with her head! She shouts.” My idea of justice sometimes borders this train of thought. I like to think that I am fair and understanding and just. Sometimes I question if God has not put me in more power because heads would roll under my leadership. Had this been games of thrones I would be Daenerys meets Joefry with her enemies. Heads on a stick. I believe in accountability. I believe that we are all able to acknowledge our wrongs and own them. My Achilles in life? Those that cannot own their fuck ups. I can accept accidents, I can accept mistakes. I do not accept a lack of atonement.
When Miguel died there was a point where the responsible party tried to act crazy. When I first heard about it I was in a fit of pure rage. I wanted to be locked into a room with him and tear him limb from limb with my bare hands. I wanted to show him crazy. The real lunacy that is brought on by rage and grief caused by his destruction. When I’m angry I transform. It’s rage that takes over. If he had admitted guilt, accepted his fate I would’ve been okay with that. The fact is, to me the moment he took a life it became #phuckyofeelings.
After Miguel died let’s not forget the couple that was expecting and was killed in Brooklyn. It was a horrifying tragedy that didn’t have to happen. This is something that happens all to often. We need stricter laws on accidents where the responsible party leaves the scene of a crime. If it results in death, the punishment should be even more harsher. We need to deter the behavior that results from these crimes. In cities like New York, Chicago there is alternate transportation. You can hop a train, a bus, a cab so there is no excuse. You drove drunk and made a choice. The repeat offenders are even worst. At the second DUI you shouldn’t even pass go. Have a problem? Sentence them to rehab and jail time. Just because you didn’t kill someone this time doesn’t mean that in a year or months or even years after you forget this incident you won’t think you’re okay to drive and do it again. I believe a small percent of people might learn but my odds have a lot more money on you’ll do it again especially if you ran. What really fuels my fire is that in a lot of these cases the person responsible isn’t hurt. It’s our innocent community that pays the price and sometimes with their lives. If you want to die by all means go ahead.
If the motherfucker who hit our car had flown through his own window last night vaya con dios. Go with God. That was your stupid choice, deal with your own ramifications. I hope he’s hurting today. I hope he fucked his face up, broke a few ribs because I know I want to knock the stuffing out of him. I’ll tell you something, I used to party I never drove shitfaced. I normally had a few early on, ate and by sun up I was sober to drive. If we were a group sometimes I played designated driver. The one time I was a fucking idiot and drove over tipsy I lived 5 driving minutes from the club. In the morning I scared the fuck out of myself so badly that never again. I didn’t crash, I didn’t hurt anyone but I did park like a lunatic. It was enough to make me say oh shit this isn’t even funny, I could’ve maybe hurt someone. Never again.
I just hope that the families of victims of drunk drivers will just use those emotions to fuel their path to fight for justice. I do plan on sending a few letters to assembly members, senators, the mayor, any motherfucker that will listen to me. Because something has to change and unless we rise up and say we need change nothing will change. Our loved ones don’t deserve and didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of some selfish prick that didn’t use common sense because a good time overrode the common decency of others.
They say patience is a virtue, it may be just that but it’s harder to practice than it is to say those words out loud. Instant gratification feels temporarily better than waiting. Living in New York, I feel like your patience, will and endurance are constantly tested. Recently, I had taken my tot to work with me. On the way home there is a station with an escalator. Yes, yes, I get it we live in New York, running 1,000 miles a minute. We took the escalator down so that my daughter would not have to walk. I had an asshole of epic proportions behind me talking shit about us standing on the one person escalator. There was another person in front of me anyhow so where did he propose we go? I had thoughts of tripping him down the escalator, or telling him to go fuck himself, but again I was with my tot. I try to limit the amount of outbursts I have in front of her. I would be lying if he hadn’t tested me in ways that really test out that self professed personality disorder.
Every morning, you hop on that train is a test of patience. The question is, are you willing to try and exercise tolerance and indifference’s in others? You can meet someone who is like the asshole in exhibit A, but will you exercise your patience to that indifference? I say this a lot, dealing with people is difficult. It can be interesting but it’s hard. Yesterday, on the way home I almost tackled about 6 people. Why? They walk in groups around the city and shit. There’s no space. Move over or I’ll move you. One of the two. I’m not walking into a pole because your a douche bag with a conversation that can’t continue when you have space to walk in a herd. Clearly, I was not practicing patience then. This morning on the way to work, I kicked someones dog. No not on purpose, no animal cruelty here. This guy was walking behind me hurries past me. His dog trying to keep up almost wound up under my feet. I’m glad the douche could run but his little minion couldn’t. I could’ve tripped over him. That my friends is why I’m writing about patience. We’re oblivious and desensitized by lack of actual interaction. Kids think you spell the way you text, we’re becoming a robotic society where you are an asshole behind your screen and keys and it translates into life, because we’re losing the value of communication and interaction. I had someone one time almost barrel down the stairs and take down my then 3 year old. What should kids stay home because your dumb ass can’t miss a train? I flipped and lost it. I wanted to tear that woman apart with my bare hands. It was absolute stupidity. My daughter was small yes, but I was standing behind her helping her walk upstairs. My fave tale of course is the woman who fell on the platform after shoving me to get onto the train. Guess what? She broke her ass and didn’t get on that train. A little patience..
I can’t say that I’m patient, hello I thought about sending someone flying down an escalator and came damn close to tripping someone down some stairs a few times. But what I am saying, is that I am going to try to practice patience. If I don’t get what I want, here and now like a downloaded app, I will try to be calm and try to understand that it’s okay. Not everything in life is as quick as an iTunes download.