Confessions of a Whiny-Assed Crybaby (Don’t read this, Mom. I swore a lot)

Even the fucking cheerleader can drop her pom-poms once in a while…
I’m not always sunshine and rose-colored glasses. I am most of the time. Annoyingly so, even. And then there are some days that just kick me in the ass. And for the stupidest reasons. Sometimes I think I handle crisis better than I do dealing with the little things, like basic disappointment. When something you look forward to is going to happen and then at the last minute it doesn’t. Like expecting to have a fun day at Six Flags and it rains when you get there. And then sometimes I think that it’s not the little disappointments that get me specifically, it’s just that they become the tipping point.
Or maybe I’m just being emotional—I LOVE saying that to myself, it’s so derisive. Reminds me of what Dad would say to me.
Or maybe I’m just selfish (that word again. And this time I mean it the way 99% of the population means it). You know that sometimes shit just happens. And you have to deal with it. And you understand. You know what? Sometimes understandingjust sucks. Because you know it would be childish and immature of you just stomp your feet once in a while, and you have to just suck it up.
Well, I guess some days I just don’t want to.
And don’t even think about sharing those endless platitudes about looking for the ‘silver lining,’ either. Nobody does that better than a Libra. That’s what Libras do. There is nothing you can point out that I don’t already know or haven’t already considered.
My problem is is that I don’t know how to wait.
I am probably more selfish with time than I am with anything else. My time is my time. Part of that comes from just the normal parenting fun (you know, that “they will find you” thought, even when you are in the bathroom); the rest comes from all of the other ‘have-tos’. Unfortunately, that selfishness with time extends to other people as well. If I schedule you in, be there. Period. Not always the right way of thinking. Because shit happens. And sometimes my own shit has gotten in the way of me being there for someone else, and they have been affected by it. But this is about me now. Of course.
If you’ve been a parent for the last 10 years or so, you know SpongeBob very well. Did he ever get his boating license? Remember when he was declared “unteachable”? I’m wondering when the professor of Patience 101 is going to declare me “unteachable.”
I hate waiting. Whether I’m waiting for something good or bad, I hate waiting. Just let it happen, already. I cannot be productive when I’m waiting, because I’m always watching the fucking clock, and I get distracted easily—

–and for that matter, sometimes it can be hard to enjoy my time when I know it is limited—and I’m constantly watching that fucking clock some more.
That fucking clock.

At least you have that time, you know a lot of people that don’t.
Shut up.

At least you have something to look forward to.
Great. More fucking waiting.
(The Libra mind at work can be a messy thing.)
Normally I don’t like to write when I’m pissy, because what I write ends up…well…pissy. When I celebrated the year anniversary of this blog, what had excited me most was that I had 52 written for the year—technically, that is one blog entry a week. But it wasn’t that way; there was an almost two month period of time that went without me adding to it. Because I was pissy. (In all fairness to myself, I had a number of rough months last year…I wasn’t really pissy. I was overwhelmed.)
Yet, writing is what helps me organize my thoughts. It lets me read the bullshit I am thinking. But if it’s true bullshit, I don’t post it; I don’t feel the need to spread it around and fertilize anyone else’s lawn.
But, hey, I did write 52 blog entries in a year’s time. Timely or not. Yay, me.
So, I end up writing the day after I am pissy, or when I’m able to better pull my head out of my ass. When I’m better able to see the all of the silver linings (there’s always more than one), pull up my big-girl thong…suck it up. I do have to acknowledge my feelings, though. I have to get it out and let it go (do NOT start singing that song, please).
I have to learn to ignore the fucking clock. It will always be there. There’s a time limit on everything. I have to learn to be able to be productive while I am waiting for something, that way if something doesn’t happen, I won’t feel like I’ve wasted time just waiting. And then I won’t spend hours kicking myself for just waiting. And then I won’t be angrier with myself for wasting more time spending hours kicking myself. And then isolating. And then sleeping.
I have to learn not to wait. For anything. Just be, and do. I can’t wait for the ‘time when’, because if it doesn’t happen, I will be aware of waiting, which, to me, is wasting time. I have to be in the now. Or, if I do find myself waiting, I have to learn to be constructive with that time, and less aware of the clock.
“All we need is just a little patience…” Today, I can hear that song and almost laugh. Yesterday I would’ve told Axl Rose to go fuck himself.

This is why I am a fucking cheerleader. I have to be able to see a bright side, otherwise I’m unproductive…useless. I know what I am like. Some people function better when angry or upset or depressed; I wish I could (my house might actually be clean!). I totally lose focus, and walk around in a daze bumping into walls. And I don’t know what to do with myself, other than constantly kicking myself more when I’m down. When I’m in a good mood things work…I work.
It’s galling to realize that I still have so much to work on. When I realize it’s something little that has gotten me down, and nothing I say to myself makes me feel better, I am fully aware that because I can always see the bright side, on some level I am making a choice to be shitty. And I haven’t figured out why. This is why when someone says something to try to cheer me up I snap at them. NO ONE can out-Libra a Libra. I know the good thing…I’m just not ready to acknowledge it. And I isolate. But I will at least let you know I have a problem.
I know what I have. I don’t have everything, but I have everything I need. I want what I have. I have so many good things going on right now, and so many good things coming my way. I can see them.
So, yesterday is a wash. But it’s over. And I’m writing this all out to submit to the Universe, to get it out and let it go (you can sing now) so I can be productive again, to admit that I’m not perfect, to acknowledge I still have so much to learn, and to adjust my glasses so I see rosy again.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s time for my lesson.

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