Some days you are smacked with the fact that reality bites.
Greetings from the bedroom on Lavender Lane on this fine first day of 2017.
I can say with almost complete certainty that 2016 was an absolute #shitshow.
Happy May Day! Truthfully, over the past month, I’ve muttered the phrase “mayday” more than once, but the purpose of this post is to discuss the merry (Mary?) month of May.
I remember this from when I was a child:
Rise up, the children of their house, all in your rich attire,
For the summer springs so fresh, green, and gay;
And all the hair upon your heads shines like the silver wire;
Drawing near unto the merry month of May.
When I was a child, my mother would make these precious little woven baskets and place fresh daffodils and other flowers from our garden
Greetings from the coziest of beds here on Lavender Lane. Slow start to the morning, as it happens once in a while.
This morning, I’m feeling a little sluggish due to some meds that I’m taking. See, here’s the thing, about a month ago (ish), I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis. It’s not a shocking dx, as the majority of the women in my family have had some variation of it, but it is a pain in the ass nonetheless. They have me on a med that, if i remember to correctly take it, keeps the joint pain more or less under control, but not as much as I would prefer. Some days are better than others. Yesterday was a craptastical day. I was having a hard time doing basic things yesterday like walking the pup. Actually, more accurate, I had a hard time clicking the leash onto the dog, but whatever. Some days it’s hard to pick up my Yeti. Other days, are totally normal. Yesterday, was a 1-2 punch with my hands sucking it and my ankle was really feeling it. I have to learn to be more patient with myself and just adjust accordingly. I felt shitty when a client called and I was having a hard time typing yesterday morning. Sigh. This morning everything feels so much better, so I’m going to chalk up yesterday to just a bad day and what I think might have been an accidentally skipped dose of my meds on Wednesday. Whatever. Get it together Kate.
I need to get it together. In all areas. I’m moving at such an accelerated speed lately that I realize I’m actually less productive because I have things in some form of moving chaos. My house is absolutely not under control and that is driving me insane. My gardens are a mess, my car needs to be cleaned, I want to do more me stuff and less other stuff.
Maybe I need to take a staycation and just get caught up on life? Possibly.
Maybe I need to start saying no to more things?
I honestly don’t know.
I feel like I got lost somewhere along the day already this year. Got distracted from my goal of extreme badassery and have been slogging in major mediocrity. It’s time to get it together. I have a project I am working on through the end of May. At that point, I’m going to say “no” for a good long while and get my shit together.
My house will be dominated (and painted) by mid June.
My car will be clean by the end of Memorial Day.
I will remember to take my meds every day.
I will spend more time with Weezie girl, who is starting to show major signs of slowing down, and less time managing Georgies crazy. I will spend more time with humans than dogs.
I will plant flowers.
I will spend less time holding my phone.
I will spend more time on the bike.
Most importantly, I’m taking a step back from managing everyone elses crap and focus on my getting my shit together.
In other news, this morning as I was perusing through YouTube, I found this video and now, yet another song is stuck in my head. I have loved this song since Josh Turner released it, however, I never knew Mr. Stapleton wrote it. OF COURSE HE DID. Another blog will be written about another time, featuring this song( 2009) when I was making a whole big string of life decisions, and driving around one night, in a big ass truck, listening to Josh Turner sing this song all the while eating Whattaburger… wait, where was I going with this?
GET IT TOGETHER KATE.
Onwards to walking Georgie, JLA golf tournament, and oh so much more crap.
And for the record, I’m probably going to listen to this song about 10 more times.
Picture this. Lavender Lane, 5:30am.
Queen of Craptastical (ahem), is sweeping up piles of dog hair and scrubbing a toilet. You know, living the glamorous life.
The 5 Hour Energy not nearly kicked in, I decided to layer some good music to my morning. Naturally, I yelled out to Alexa “Play Aretha.”
Alexa and I are on a first name basis with Miss Franklin in the morning, by the way.
So, RESPECT comes on, and it gets me shaking my money maker as I am silently cursing owning not one but two dogs of labradorian lineage. I’m singing at the top of my lungs :
“Or you might walk in (respect, just a little bit)
And find out I’m gone (just a little bit)
I got to have (just a little bit)
A little respect (just a little bit)”
It felt good. Empowering. A woman who takes no shit. A woman who will call a 21 year old in the dead of the night during a snow storm to go pick up something to eat. THAT, in itself is another story.
So, I was feeling my morning groove Miss Franklin. Feeling it. Scrubbing the house. Mentally making a plan for the day. Getting ready to go kick some ass, take names and blah blah blah. I was getting ready to take the bad dog for a walk when this gem comes on the Echo:
And Miss Franklin, I’m sorry, but this song made me ANGRY.
You are Aretha EFFING FRANKLIN. You don’t tap on some schmucks door that walked out. YOU walk away. I have loved this song my ENTIRE life. I never really listened to the lyrics before. I mean, I knew the lyrics by heart, but I never really paid attention until this morning. Miss Franklin, I got angry.
You are a bad ass. You do not:
“I’m gonna swallow my pride
I’m gonna beg you to (please baby please) see me”
I’ve spent the better part of my adult waiting for some schmuck to come back to me. There, I said it. I waited for him to magically realize that I was the one. I tolerated so much bad behavior out of the modern day Peter Pan that it embarrasses me. My musical hero has basically always told me that I should just wait until he comes back. That I should just say a little prayer for him. Miss Franklin, I don’t understand how you can belt out RESPECT in one breath and then croon the following:
“Living for you my dear
Is like living in a world of constant fear
In my plea, I’ve got to make you see
That our love is dying
Although your phone you ignore”
Listening to these songs this morning with open ears is a little bit like finding out that Santa Claus is just really your OCD mother who spends hours obsessively wrapping everything in white tissue paper. It’s just kind of a let down. I know it’s just music. I know this is your job to entertain.
Frankly, the message sucks.
As a single female, we get a ton of shit tossed our ways. The side glances, the pity. The lack of invitations to couples weekends. The “your standards are too high.” “You are too picky.” OH MY GOD, the list goes on and on and on. We are constantly told that we will not be complete until we have some partner that fulfills our plus one. It’s the societal norm ya know. Forget the fact that guys do NOT get the same level of shit for being equally single.
It just kinda sucks to hear you singing :
“Why did you have to decide
You had to set me free
I’m gonna swallow my pride
I’m gonna beg you to (please baby please) see me”
No, I’m not going to swallow my pride. Screw that. If some dude wants to see me, he knows where to find me. Miss Franklin, I’m kinda done with this shit.
ps.. you know I still love you long time and I will happily deliver a canned ham basket to you any day. Just say the word. I apologize for my tone, but this just made me hangry. Have a good day Miss Franklin. I hope you are fabulous.
Period, end of story. Every morning, I wake up and do the same thing.
Every Tuesday (trash day), I water the inside plants, sweep up, and take the trash out.
Daily, upon rude awakening by his royal asshole George, I get up, let the dogs out, grab some type of caffeine source, say “good morning” Alexa and then grab my phone while my brain starts to de-fuz.
Today is Tuesday, therefore, I do three extra things. This should not be complicated. I have been doing some variation of this morning for years. I’m 40.
I wake up, grab a 5 Hour Energy, turn on Alexa (who played a most exceptional song, see below), might have brushed my teeth and I immediately started picking up. I know, I know, I’m weird. Whatever.
So I am going around, picking up any bits of trash for disposal, collected up recycle stuff, and realize I didn’t put up (away) the big ass bag of dog food I purchased last night.
I grab a knife, hack open the bag (because scissors were too far), pick up the bag and dump it into the trash can.
Yes, the trashcan.
At least 25% of the bag of not cheap dog food went into the trash. Meanwhile, the dog food container was literally right behind me. Oh, and yes, I saved most of the food. My dog licks his butt, he can eat trash can food. He is not that delicate.
My brain is not firing on all cylinders.
Admittedly, I’ve got a lot on my mind. I’ve got work, volunteer stuff, social stuff, personal life stuff, etc. I got news this morning from a friend that really threw me for a loop and I think I was just kind of walking around in a haze. Clearly. Normal people do not throw away dog food.
Sometimes it’s worth while to mix it up. Shake up the routine of life. Throw in a little distraction to ensure that you don’t end up walking around chanting ” Ten minutes to Wapner.”
However, this morning, distraction is a little too much. I just threw away dog food. When brushing my teeth, I grabbed moisturizer to place on the tooth brush. Instead of sweeping, I’m typing this.
My brain is full.
Instead of trying to write anymore, I’m going to show you the song that I was listening to this morning. Send some good thoughts my way, at the rate I’m going, it’s entirely probable that I might walk into traffic taking the trash out.
Morning. Greetings from the sleep deprived. I’m 99% sure the only reason I’m not sleeping is the fact that I am UNABLE to turn my brain off these days. It’s not a new phenomenon, but it’s annoying.
A week or so ago, I was having dinner with some friends and one of the women said: “it’s my story, and I’ll tell it when I’m ready.” Now, the point of this entry is NOT to tell her story but to ponder on the fact that each of us has our own story to tell.
It is so easy to get caught up in the day to day minutiae of life. It is so easy to get mired into the oh-s0-daily schwag of life. It’s easy to think that your stuff is bigger than everyone else. Or at least for me, it is easy to do so.
At about 3:00 am this morning, I was laying in bed- too tired to be productive, but too awake to sleep. I started running through the Rolodex of my people, pondering some of the information that they have shared with me. Often times, what is not said is more important than what is actually said. You have to listen to find the full story.
So easily we portray a tale of perfection via all of these obnoxious social media outlets we have at our disposal. So easily we launch a whine of epic proportions out to the atmosphere. Sometimes we need to vent, sometimes, we just want to get it off our chest. And sometimes, we just want to see if anyone is actually listening. Is someone following along with the story of our lives?
I’ve tried to be a better listener lately. Tried to quiet the constant shitstorm of inner monologue and be more present when I’m with my people. Listen to people talk about weight loss goals and not to interject my lifelong battle with the big ass. Listen to people quietly mention challenges that they are experiencing in their relationships. Listen to the tales of relationships. (Maybe I’ll learn something?)
Sometimes we just need to listen.
Sometimes we need to just be quiet and listen to the tale that is being told.
The older I get, I realize that the big ole happy ending that we have been conditioned to expect is sadly, not the reality, instead, we just need to enjoy the journey.
Sidenote, this particular story was somewhat derailed as I looked up to find Georgie the Terrible running around the house with a fresh roll of toilet paper, effectively “rolling” the little house on Lavender. Sigh.
Back to the point.
My story, ever changing and mostly chaotic, is not the only one. We all have a story. Next time you are with someone, put down the phone, look at your friend and just listen. They might have something important to say.