More Postive Thinking Fall-Out?

I can't blame the chain of events that happened today on my positive FB post from the other night, but I can't help but make a connection.

I got up this morning with the best of intentions.  It's Friday, it's payday, I had zero supervision in the office and I was going to get stuff done and kick off a hopefully fun weekend.  At 10:45am this morning, that all changed.  We were notified of a school shooting in the nearby city that many of our employees live in.  All the details are not yet known, but from what I have heard thus far, a kid brought a gun to school and shot specific individuals that he was angry with and then ended up dead himself.  I felt sick inside.  I remember going to school and worrying about not having the trendiest clothes or being over-weight or having someone pick on me for being fat, but I never worried about being shot.  In today's world, it's becoming more commonplace.  My God, no wonder kids are a mess these days and on anti-depressants or fight depression on their own, untreated, and have anxiety or feel insecure.  I mean, not all kids are like that, but I think the number of kids that find it hard to deal with life is on the rise.  If getting up and going to school could be the last thing you do on any given day, why care about anything?  Why care about your future?  Why care if you even go? Or, care so much that you are paralyzed with anxiety. I am so deeply saddened by these realities and these acts of violence.  In my opinion, I think kids are desensitized to violence and it seems more plausible to handle your confrontations or disappointments with an act of violence.  TV, movies, video games, domestic violence, drugs, bullying, social media stalking, etc. it's just so much of their daily lives and it is glamorized. Maybe it seems legit to just handle things like The Terminator?  I don't know, just my theory.

And these events have a ripple effect.  I know someone that was at the hospital, needing medical attention due to a potentially life-impacting issue. This person was unable to be admitted to the hospital due to all doctors that were qualified to help him were busy with shooting victims.  So, now, what about all the other people that need care?  That's fucked up.

Let's talk about all the kids too scared to go to school now.  Let's talk about the crazy weather and funnel clouds destroying structures. The catastrophic  mudslide that happened earlier this spring, the wildfires that raged all summer, then the mudslides that followed that. Let's talk about the email I got at work today about Ebola. Let's talk about ISIS and terrorism. Let's talk about all the accidents on the freeway lately.  Let's talk about who was just diagnosed with cancer or a life threatening disease.  Let's talk about a government that is so corrupt, we have little hope of ever living in a healthy functioning socioeconomic society.  Let's talk about all the other violence that happens daily.  How in the hell am I supposed to  think positive and not feel like this world is bad?  How do I hold my head up and have hopes, dreams, goals?  How do I do that when I am full of anxiety about what disaster will strike us next.  When I kiss Shark Bait right before I go to sleep at night, will we both wake up in the morning?  When I leave work to come home, is that the last time I will see my friends and co-workers or my husband?  So, when I consider whether I want that piece of chocolate, is my overall health important?  I mean, if I can't really count on tomorrow, why not have ice cream?  You may say, "Angry Pony, none of us can count on tomorrow, it is not promised."  I know, I get that, but I'm not talking about breaking a promise, I'm talking about having a realistic expectation that it is possible you can live without anxiety and then if your number is up, you lived a good life and you enjoyed it.  Some people do, I believe.  How do I do that when I am so full of angst and anxiety about my "living conditions" and my potential future.

The flip side that I struggle to achieve is the one that says:  Let's talk about the time I spent with my loved ones today.  Let's talk about the laughter that was shared. Let's talk about the puppy dog and pony kisses I had.  Let's talk about how accomplished I feel after a good day at work.  Let' talk about how I worked out today and it felt amazing to know I'm doing what's right for my body.  Let's talk about those moments I sat there and watched the colors in the sky as the sun set.  Let's talk about laying in bed on a Saturday morning listening to the rain on the roof and smiling because my love is next to me, my dog is at my side and I am snuggled safely under my comforter.  Let's talk about a trip I am excited about taking.  Let's talk about all that.  Let's talk about being able to enjoy all that.

Let's also talk about the kindness I observed today at the grocery store when someone dropped their purse and a stranger helped pick it up. Let's talk about the love I saw in a mother's eyes as she kissed her baby.  Let's talk about the people helping the homeless.  Let's talk about the people who work in animal shelters and help the animals get homes.  Let's talk about the people that looked at a picture of a loved one and ran their finger over the front and had a memory about them and felt their arms around them, if even for just a moment.  And maybe a tear slipped down their cheek, but a smile followed. Let's talk about watching the ponies play in the pasture, kids playing in the park and screaming with excitement and pure joy.  Let's talk about paying off your car loan and how amazing that feels.  Let's talk about having faith that this life means something, no matter what.  And if disaster strikes, it will bring us together, not tear us apart. 

How do I get there?  We have to get there, right? For sanity sake, we have to, right?  I think it is normal to feel like the rug is pulled out when something like this happens, but sometimes it feels like one more nail in the coffin.  It's glass half-full vs. glass half-empty.  I just declared some very positive stuff the other night and then within two days, it feels as if those positive thoughts are erased by angst and crisis.  Thusly proving positive energy is wasted. This is why I don't get my hopes up.  Or, do I look at this and say, "I am okay.  My family is okay. No one I know personally was seriously impacted.  I'm fortunate. I'm okay. I'm going to support those that need support and I am glad I can be there for them in their time of need." 

I don't know how to get there, but I do know there are two paths to choose from.  One is a moon-lit path lined with fun-sized Hershey's Halloween candy,  kettle-cooked potato chips and lots of potholes.  The other path  is lit by the morning sun and has ponies running playfully in pastures and a Jamba Juice on the corner.  The road is never-ending and you can only just see over the next ridge, beyond that, other adventures await.

So, bring a flashlight, or bring my sunglasses?  It's a struggle every day making that choice...but I do look good in my Ray Ban's, I just have to remember where I left them last.

My Hips Don't Lie...

Yesterday I posted the most positive post I have ever made on Facebook, historically speaking.
 This is what I posted:
"it's not that often I'm this positive, so I'm about to get it all out of my system at one time. William is getting a new job. Epic. We have taken some steps today that will help our financial future. I am going to get a new boss, eventually. I have committed to doing two 5k's before the end of the year. I am going to an event with my horse on Sunday. I will believe that positive changes can happen and I will enjoy them all. I feel like doing a Sheldon Cooper BAZINGA! right now because I'm scared to jinx anything I just said. I always get scared I'll get disappointed, but maybe this time will be different because I got a unicorn in the mail and that MUST be a sign...a good sign. And, I'm going to be a pink fluffy unicorn dancing on rainbows for Halloween!!"

 I mean, I knew it was a gamble.  I'm not positive because it is too risky.  Things could fall apart or not happen like I want and all that believing will just make it more painful.  None the less, I had recklessly posted how positive I was about the changes and suggested this could have been a mistake.  Today, I knew I had gone too far an the Universe was "checking" me.

It started innocently enough.  I put on my black tights and then tried on various things until I decided on today's ensemble.  It involved my boots and a skirt. The boots are always a good choice.  I even tried something new with my hair today, which was only semi successful.  Anyway, I was feeling sassy.  Empowered almost.  I stopped off and got the gift cards that our visiting Director had requested I get.  She wanted 20 $25 Starbucks cards.  I was like, wow, she is being super generous.  I arrived at work and presented them to her.  She said, "Oh, I wanted 20 $5 gift cards, I don't have this rich of a budget."  Mother. Trucker.  I called the store to see if I could return or exchange them.  Nope.  I guess we were going to need to have a lot of sales contests with Starbucks as the reward.  I said, "Well, I can take these four cards down to Starbucks and have them cash out this amount for the 20 $5 cards you wanted."  Seems like an easy fix.  Right?

I arrived at Starbucks in my boots.  I was one Pumpkin Spice Latte away from being the stereo-typical white woman.  Luckily, I don't drink coffee, at all, so I would remain atypical.  I let the scrawny kid behind the counter know what I needed.  He seemed confused.  I said, "I need to use these gift cards to purchase 20 $5 gift cards, can you do that?"  He looked slightly confused, "So, let's see...20 $25 gift cards?  How many?"  I stopped him, "No, that is how this all started.  I need 20 of these cards in increments of $5."  He said, "Okay, let me do the math..."  I was like, "no math needed, I have $100 in gift cards now to pay for this transaction.  That equals 20 $5 gift cards."  I could see he was perplexed still, but he started entering them, sure enough, he rings the first one of up for $25.  I am mentally slapping my forehead.  He calls the manager over, tells her what I need.  She voids his transaction and rings the first one up for $25.  I'm losing it.  I said, "No, not $25.  I need $5 on each of these cards.  I have 20 cards."  Finally, she makes progress and the scrawny kid takes over again.  He says, "Sorry, I'm dyslexic.  Can I get you something to drink?"  I gave him a firm NO and left.  As I'm walking down the sidewalk in my black boots, black tights, black and white houndstooth skirt and my stylin' rain trench coat I notice that I'm kind of doing a weird walk.  Like, I think my hips were doing an extra "boom."  What the hell? 

Boom Boom

 With the task accomplished, I head back to work.  I get to a stop light where I need to turn left.  There is a SUV in front of me.  Our light is red.  All the sudden he starts to go.  Like, he got out into the middle of the intersection.  I'm sitting there saying to myself, "what a dumbass."  As if just realizing he was a dumbass, he stops mid-intersection and waits for the light to turn green.  Mind you, all the existing traffic that does have a green light has to maneuver around him.  Finally, our light turns green, we start to go and this guy in the lane right next to me jumps out of his vehicle to check something behind his truck.  Don't mind me, I'm just obeying the law and trying to navigate back the Glass freaking Palace.  I dodge that and continue on.  It's two lanes in my way of travel, the dumbass is in front of me driving like, well, a dumbass.  He takes the left lane, I take the right.  Then he decides he wants over in front of me in my lane so puts his blinker on and stops.  What the hell? There is no other traffic...what?  Not wanting to be taken out, I let him go in front of me.  Then, some guy parked on the side of the road flings his door open to get out of his vehicle.  Holy Batshit, Robin, I just want to get back to work in one piece. 

At this point, I'm kind of overwhelmed, I just need a break.  I pull in to McDonalds.  I never go there, but I needed some comfort fries, RIGHT NOW.  I pull up to the first menu to see where the value menu is and the guy starts yelling at me from the intercom telling me to pull forward to order.  Look, dicknose, I will pull up there when I am ready.  What is wrong with people today, get off my back!  I get a beverage. Hey, look, it's the Monopoly game!  I pull off the Monopoly pieces and sure enough, I'm not a winner.  No surprises there.

I get back to work and find a parking spot.  Again I notice I've got this saunter going on that is not my usual saunter.  I think it's the boots.  I think the boots are making me walk around like I'm some Rap guys girlfriend.  It's like I'm powerless to stop the boom boom going on.  I get in the office without seducing anyone with my Shakira hips and settle in at my desk.  I get a visit from Sister Sarcastic and her step-son, Happy Kid.  They brought me a wooden horse with a makeshift horn.  It's a unicorn, they said.  I gave a tentative, "...thanks?" We believe this unicorn to be an absorber of power and it is going to absorb my powers of awesomeness and be magical.  This is our hope.  After some idle chit-chat, they leave.

Finally, I get down to some real work.  No, it isn't meant to be.  I hear Angry Stallion going on about how he was victimized by the deli service lady at a local grocery store.  It would seem that she helped the black man in front of him with a smile and sense of passion.  When Angry Stallion walked up there, just a simple white man, she gave him half-assed service, threw his breakfast burrito in the microwave for a few seconds and then sent Angry Stallion on his way.  He got to work and bit into his burrito and it was cold.  That bitch had clearly discriminated against him.  Most people don't know that middle-aged white men get discriminated against at grocery store deli's, but they do.  The struggle is real.  He was feverishly looking for their email.  Amused by all of this, I yelled over the wall, "That is bullshit! Don't stop with an e-mail, you go to the CEO! You deserve JUSTICE!"  He agreed.  This was an outrage.  You can't eat a cold burrito!  Who eats cold burritos?  I'll tell you who doesn't, that black guy.  We've got some serious first world problems going on here, you don't understand.  Then, a woman was walking around the office that we believe may or may not become our new boss.  She was like a cold chill cutting through the air.  One of the consultants come running over and said, "Did you see Cruella de Ville? You can freeze ice on her ass."  Yeah, I saw her.  I knew she was not the boss for me and said a little prayer it would not be so.  Things could get ugly real fast in my world.  Anyway, Angry Stallion was also upset about Cruella.  Nobody needed this kind of news.  As if he could take no more, he left.  He was going to go to lunch and maybe, just maybe, go confront the service deli discriminator.  I laughed at the hilarity of this whole situation.  This day is just not good.

It was now time to go check the mail. Me and my boom-ditty boom-ditty boom boom Shakira hips didn't leave any lies out there, we walked the truth up the stairs to the mail area.  I picked up a letter sent to me from the National Professional Women's Association.  Yeah, I'm real professional today...First street professional.  I considered that my boots were bewitched.  Like, if you put them on, you turn into a prostitute working First Avenue.  Disturbingly enough, I kind of liked it. I owned it.  At one point, I was leaning against one of the cubes talking to Sassy Pants and I was standing there resting one foot pushing my butt out.  I told her, "I can't seem to stop. What is a matter with me?  I don't act like this?"  I know cats in heat acting more subtle.  I need to take a break from the boots.  This has gotten out of hand.

I returned to my area once again.  Angry Stallion had returned victorious.  He had gone to that store, reamed out the service desk and got a $3 refund for his cold burrito.  Justice was served!  That's right, no more discrimination! I told him, "Someone has to fight for the people, be the change we want to see in this world!!"  I was actually enjoying this part of my day.  Often, Angry Stallion keeps me from crying.  He and I can joke about the hilarity and stupidity of this Glass Palace, the unfairness of life and how we are one step away from the apocalypse.  It's coming, don't even challenge us on this. We have proof.

Anyway, we finished off the day having dinner with our visiting Director at Olive Garden.  I told Angry Stallion, "if anyone tries to give you bad service...give them hell!  I'll record it with my phone and we'll go the the CEO..."  I'm nothing if not supportive.  It took them approximately 30 minutes for them to bring me a "to go" box.  I'm going to let this one slide...this time.  I'll live to fight another day.

That is a lot of rambling to say, it was a long, weird, frustrating day and I blame it all on my previous nights positivity.  I will not be making that mistake again.  I may, however, try to start generating some extra cash in those boots on the weekends.  What?  Too far?

Ebola and how I didn't shit my pants

So, it's been a while...(that's how the Rug Doctor told me to start...and then see what happens, she said.)

I haven't blogged in a while.  Life has kind of been a pile of crap lately and I haven't had much to say that is really worthy of blogging about without getting out a violin and playing some sort of sad music.  If I was a radio station I would be WHAA 95.3 the station where the hits just keep coming...all of yesterdays sad music mixed with today's angry girl rock.  I didn't even want to tune in, how could I expect anyone else to want to? Anyway, today was Therapy Thursday, which usually gets the thoughts all churned up, so I thought I would give this a go tonight. 

I walked in to therapy tonight and informed the Rug Doctor that I likely had the beginning stages of Ebola, but as long as we didn't french kiss and I didn't shit bloody diarrhea all over her couch and she didn't attempt to clean it up with open sores on her bare hands, we should be okay.  She seemed unconcerned and advised me, as she often does, that while it is possible to die from Ebola, it is highly unlikely that I will.  I went on to explain to her about the movie Outbreak where one person coughs and all that juicy phlegm is in the air and then someone else breathes in or has an open sore and then it's over, it spreads like wildfire.  Why, just last weekend, all those people from Dallas flew in for the football game.  How do we know they didn't bring it with them?  How do we know that some lady on the same plane didn't get sneezed on and now she was at the Everett Safeway this morning at the same time I was and sneezed, and maybe I don't remember it because I don't remember when everyone sneezes, but maybe she did and I breathed it in?  What if that happened.  She's a carrier, she doesn't realize yet and now she spread it to me and BAM! Ebola epidemic!  I go to work and cough and spread it there in the call center where the ventilation is horrible and all of us are breathing it in and then we go to the grocery store because fat people work at the call center so are already unhealthy, but now we're hungry so we go to the store and now we give it to others who take it home to their families and give it to the kids who take it to school and pretty soon, everyone is dead.  Look, I'm no genius, but if I'm a terrorist, I'm going to start with world domination and complete extermination of the human race by putting that Ebola shit in a call center, the root of all evil.  The Rug Doctor still seemed skeptical, but said I looked like I was well enough to not shit bloody diarrhea on her couch. Sure, the snot was running faster than I could eat it, but I was well enough to function without diapers.  With that out of the way, I was now able to focus on other more pressing matters, although, I don't know how they could be more pressing considering I have the early stages of Ebola.

We shifted the subject to the hot mess that is my head.  We talked about how I was feeling frustrated about  taking care of everyone in every aspect of life, how I was frustrated with feeling stuck and unable to really get moving again on my life goals.  I told her how I saw this quote on Facebook the other day that just pissed me off.  "If it is important to you, you will find a way. If it is NOT, you will find an excuse". - Monster Factory. So, my goals apparently aren't important? Because I have not been able to achieve what I want and have lost my way, I'm an excuse maker?  This is where my "critical voice" kicks in and tells me "I told you so...loser."  Apparently the critical voice along with my anxiety voice and depressed voice, or whatever that one was, over-ride the reasonable voice.  The reasonable voice is the one I need, but I keep telling it to shut up.  Apparently.  So, the Rug Doctor says that the quote doesn't take into account the struggle along the way.  Things are important to me, that doesn't mean there isn't a struggle along the way.  Struggles do not equal excuses.  I'm going to have to let the voices work this one out.  It's out of my hands at this point.

I think the highlight of our session is when we discussed allowing the reasonable voice to push through and say, "today is not going to totally suck, we are doing the best we can" and just go with that and not expect so much from the day. In doing so, that hopefully stops the critical voice from saying, "I told you that you would fail."  She said to celebrate the small victories, like, for example, "Today I didn't shit my pants on the couch."  I couldn't even contain myself.  I started laughing.  I mean, seriously, the quality of my life is such that I have to hold on to the little golden nugget that I have not shit my pants.  Anything beyond not shitting my pants is a freaking success story.  I mean, I knew I was a mess, but even to me, this  bar seems low.  Well, I guess someone that loses their leg function has to learn to walk again, so this is my mental stability in a wheel chair waiting to upgrade to a walker.  So, today was a freaking success story!!!  I am proud of not soiling my panties.  GO ME!!!

I left my session with much to consider.  I advised the Rug Doctor to please not touch the trash can where my mucus filled used tissues laid in wait fostering the early stages of Ebola.  I need her, I can't have her dying of Ebola.  It would take me YEARS to get a new therapist up to speed.  I mean, that is, if I don't have Ebola.  I'm not saying I don't, I mean, it could happen.  I'm not saying I want it to happen, but if I believe worst case scenario, then I will be pleasantly surprised, you know, like when I don't crap my pants.

Let this be a lesson to all of you.  Set the bar low and all of your dreams will eventually come true, unless we all die from Ebola, in which case, it no longer matters. So, basically, do whatever the hell you want.

And remember, as my wise Rug Doctor says, you are doing the best you can on any given day and today is not going to totally suck.  Words to live by.  I do.