The Year of Constant Resign

I wrote most of this yesterday, when I was feeling all emotional and weepy.  I thought, today, I would nuke it, but it's not as depressing as I thought it was, so, here you go... :-)

 

 

 

I feel like I should be writing today, but it is only a thing I'm doing for comfort or relief from feeling completely whacked out.  There are a few major life things happening right now that could either be great, or go "badly" and end up depressing the living hell out of me.

 

 

No stress there.  I wish I could fast forward through time and get past the waiting, to see the results.  I'd like to get to about mid-February--or better yet, if we could just move time all the way up to my next birthday, that would be cool.

 

 

I used to be able to predict these things with a fair amount of accuracy, mainly because I had a ridiculous amount of confidence, and as a result, got my way a lot.  Er...pretty much always.  As it stands now, I wake up every other day wondering why I even bother--not that I'm feeling depressed or sorry for myself, because I still have that stupid, insanely high confidence level.  I realize that I need certain people to do certain things in order for my life to go the way I want it to go right now, and, I might not have done enough to make them want to.  Also, I don't know how to do more.

 

If I had one major vulnerability as a member of society, it would be that I am completely incapable of kissing anyone's ass with any amount of sincerity.  That is to say, if I say something nice about you, compliment or support you, it's because I actually mean it, and I think you're worth it, not because I'm thinking of future gains for myself.  Also, if praising you requires me to demean myself in any way, guess what?  Not happening.  I'm perfectly capable of paying you a compliment, but I'm not going to say something nice just because I think my saying something nice will make you think better of me.  Ultimately, I don't care what you think of me. 

 

 

Until I do.

 

 

The Monday Melancholy taps straight into that "why doesn't anybody like me?" thing from Junior High.  I'd like to think that because I was "different" from a lot of people back then that it was strictly a maturity thing--hardly any 13-year-olds have the the time-acquired grace to accept someone different from them.

 

Funny thing is, not too many 40-year-olds do, either.  Huh.  Didn't see that coming.  OK, actually, I did.  When I was 13, I predicted that the only way I would be accepted was to do big things--"big" being open for discussion, because "big" is different for each individual person.  To my mind, it's just about striving to be the very best, at whatever you happen to do.

 

Here is the one and only time I will ever quote Jesus on this blog:  "If someone speaks ill of you, live so that they cannot."  That is where I am coming from.  That's my entire motivation.

 

Since my youth, I've poured an awful lot of energy into working harder, and giving things more thought than other people might.  I'm reminded of an example...I was working in radio, and because my brother was getting married, I had to use a few vacation days.  I didn't, and still don't, like using vacation days.  I prefer to work.  For the poor part-time jock who was filling in for me, I left a list--two pages, typed, single-spaced--of all of the things I did during every show that I thought were absolutely crucial to maintaining a certain level of quality.  They were things I noticed because I was paying attention, all the time, to how things could be better.  My expectation of myself was, and remains, decidedly high. I wanted to leave nothing to chance, hence the detailed instruction. This poor man, a lovely person who wouldn't harm a fly, looked at my list with a combination of fear and disbelief.  He'd been in radio for as long as I had, and probably thought us peers.  I, on the other hand, knew damn well that my drive to do more than most was the reason I had a regular slot with good ratings, and he was just a part-timer.  As it happens, he was never promoted during the time I worked there.  As it happens, I got job offers every other month or so.

 

20 years later, I still pour as much effort into my work, and also into the rest of my life.  If I went on vacation tomorrow, I would leave the same kind of list for whoever got stuck handling my work-load.  I'd probably leave a similar list for the person who would be feeding my cats in my absence.  I care about how things are done.  I sign my name to my work.  What's in it for me?  Not a damn thing, really, except satisfaction that comes from helping people stop assuming things, be it about me personally, or about my gender, race, job title, or whatever.  If someone speaks ill of you, live so that they cannot.  All negative things, spoken or written by me, or you, or anybody else, are just lies and assumptions, anyway--easily proven wrong by simply being, or doing, the opposite of what is expected.  Duh.  It's not rocket science.  (This is why it makes me absolutely NUTS when people live up to a negative stereo-type...)

 

OK, I lied.  There are rewards that go along with living this kind of life--really fantastic and interesting people congregate, mainly because they are "different" too--they felt the same way you did about life, with they were 13.  They're motivated.  They are willing to give it more thought, and as such, they are also inspiring.  The energy created when these kinds of people get together is incredible, and invariably creates something really amazing--might be a love affair, might be a best-seller, or it might be a lifetime of real happiness.  Could be anything, but it will definitely be good.

 

The last several months have been especially difficult, and I'm not just referring to my personal "things" going on, but also the climate in general.  It's been a weird world of hatred, politically.  Personally, it just feels like a drought.  It may be the combination of the two things that spurs my "why bother?" mornings.  I feel like I've been at it for a long time, and, so far, no reward.  I think things are changing, though.  Slowly changing.

 

When the rain came yesterday (the actual rain, here in Minneapolis) I thought, "How symbolic."  There wasn't much of it, but, it seemed hopeful.  A little more today, and maybe more later.  The things that could go "great" or "badly", will work themselves out in this way as well, I think--a little at a time.  I'm definitely not used to things being this slow, and don't like it much, being an all or nothing kind of person with zero patience.  I tend to force an issue more than not. 

 

Whoops!  Another lesson.  Why do I never see these coming?  You'd think, after the year I've had, that I would. 

 

But this one feels a little like passing all but one subject and still being forced to take all of Third Grade over again.  Fine...if that's what it takes...I give up.  Again.  The difference now is, every time I "give up", I feel less and less like the petulant child who didn't get her way.  I pout less.  I feel sorry for myself less.  That's progress, right?