The "F" Word

I have to go to the doctor. My blood pressure is going up and I have this
rash that's driving me crazy. The rash is all over my arms and neck and I'm
sure it's an allergic reaction but I don't know what to.

The problem is, I don't want to go because I don't like my doctor.
Unfortunately, I don't know if I can find another one that's any better.

I could say that my dislike for my doctor began when he had me waiting in
the examination room for almost half an hour, and this was after waiting for
at least 15 minutes in his lobby. I finally got fed up and walked out. He
called me the next day and apologized.

I could say that it started when I injured my wrist and I went to see him,
despite having no insurance. He walked into the examination room and refused
to even look at my injury. He just handed me a referral to a hand
specialist (who I wasn't able to see-no insurance), wrote a prescription for
a hand brace (again, no insurance and I was already using an OTC product)
and told me to take Ibuprofen or Aleve (which I was already doing).

He also charged me for the visit.

But, amazingly, neither of those reasons are why I absolutely can NOT stand
the man.

I don't like him because he treated me like a lazy fat chick.

About five years ago, I started to notice that I was having trouble losing
weight. I'd always had issues with my weight but, when I actually exercised
and cleaned up my diet, I was able to lose weight at a healthy rate ( 1 - 2
lbs. a week). Then, suddenly, that stopped.

There was a six-month period in 2007 where I was walking 8 to 10 miles at
least 4 days a week, lifting weights and eating 1700 calories a day of lean
protein, fruits, vegetables and whole grains. It was the same thing I always
did but, instead of losing weight, I kept gaining and losing the same 2 lbs.
each week. I wasn't making any strength gains, my measurement's didn't
change. I made ZERO progress.

Then, in August of that year, I changed residences. I was in constant motion
for an entire month: packing, transporting, cleaning and unpacking. I'd get
up at dawn start working and wouldn't stop until I either had to go to work
or I collapsed in bed that night. I ate one meal a day, usually dollar
cheeseburgers from some fast-food place.

I lost six lbs.

At the end of the month, I collapsed on the couch for two weeks. I didn't
exercise and I ate normally.

I gained it all back.

In 2008, I went to my Dr. with concerns about my weight. I felt that I had a
thyroid problem. First: I was on lithium for six years. That shit is known
to damage the thyroid. Second: I have a family history of thyroid problems.
Third: Age-related metabolism changes aside, it's not normal to do roughly
7000 calories worth of exercise per week and not lose any weight. Not when
you're also counting calories. And no one should have to spend 12 hours a
day in constant motion and starve themselves to lose 1.5 lbs. a week.
Fourth: I was experiencing other symptoms like sensitivity to cold, muscle
aches, fatigue and depression.

The minute I mentioned my weight, his entire demeanor changed. He shut me
out.

I told him about my diet and exercise habits during that six-month period.
He immediately started talking about diet. Actually, he didn't talk about
diet, he merely said that diet plays a huge part and that exercise alone
wasn't enough.

I'm not sure what part of "I was eating 1700 calories a day of lean protein
blah blah" he didn't get. Of course, he didn't get it ALL, because he
stopped listening.

I was just another fat, lazy, delusional slob who needed to put down the
fork, pick up a dumbbell and trade in my twizzlers for carrot sticks.

Sure, I SAID that I worked out but, you know how it is. I was probably
wandering aimlessly around the gym doing 5lb bicep curls or 20lb leg presses
and reading a magazine while mindlessly pedaling on a lifecycle.

And my diet? Well, I was probably lying about that.

After all, if I was REALLY working out and REALLY eating healthily, I
wouldn't be fat.

I practically had to beg him to run a thyroid panel. The results, my TSH
levels were on the high end of the normal range and my T3 & T4 were on the
low end. While my numbers were within range, they were WAY off from my
readings three years before. In the older readings, my TSH was
off-the-charts low and my T3 and T4 were squarely in the middle of normal.

My doctor was concerned about my earlier results, when my only complaint was
sensitivity to cold. He was completely dismissive of the later result. After
all, the first time around I wasn't the fat chick looking for a quick fix.

At the end of the appointment, the longest I'd ever had with him, he
suggested the South Beach Diet.

So, I need to go back to this doctor. I'm overdue for a physical and I
really need to get this blood pressure thing under control.

I'd like to find a doctor that actually LISTENS to me but another doctor
will probably be the same.

I don't want a quick fix.

I just want to be able to lose weight, and maintain a healthy weight,
without having to work out six hours a day. I want to be able to maintain a
healthy weight without starving myself on less than 1000 calories a day. I
want to lift weights and actually make strength gains.

I don't think that's too much to ask.

The other problem is that he made the issue all about food.

Because, of course, fat is all about will power. It's about too much pie in
the hole. Fat is a character flaw.

I will be the first to admit that, at times, my diet is for shit. At times,
I overeat and what I eat is garbage. When I get depressed, I have no desire
to prepare or eat healthy food. When it's really bad, I may go for most of
the day without eating, only to scarf down large quantities of junk in one
sitting.

But here's the deal:

If you're carrying around an extra 10 or 20 lbs., it's probably about food.

If, like me, you're carrying around an extra PERSON, it's probably NOT about
food.

Yes, true, there are the super obese who eat three whole chickens in one
meal but, even then, it's NOT about food. I mean, seriously, what normal,
well-adjusted person (who is not a professional body builder or athlete)
eats three whole chickens in one sitting?

At some point, it stops being about food, and the food starts being about
something else.

The doctor doesn't know (and doesn't WANT to know) fuck all about the
something else. It's easier to just accuse someone of overeating, whether or
not that's actually the problem. It's easier to tell the patient to just TRY
harder than even consider that there might be other factors at work.

So, I have to either find a new doctor or keep going to the old one. But I
have to do it soon because I really need to go.

140/90

For those who don't know, 140/90 is the exact number for borderline
hypertension... and the reading I got at the doctor Friday.

A sure sign, if any, that I need to calm the fuck down.

Yeah... I talk a big game

I'm using the email function because I'm just too damned lazy to launch my
browser and log in to Blogger proper. The thing is, the email function
always causes weird line breaks and formatting. But I just can't be bothered
today, you know? So I'm apologizing in advance for any wonky formatting.

Remember how I said I was gonna quit titling?

I'm still titling.

I actually did quit... sorta... I'm thinking that I didn't quite make myself
clear because I'm still in the system. I've decided to take advantage of
that and get a little done here and there. But I actually have plenty to
write so I don't really need to.

Mercury had finally gone direct so that may have something to do with
whatever is happening.

However, I have not heard anything about the other job. I've decided to go
on the premise that no news is good news. In a perfect world, I'll come home
from Yoga and fine an offer letter in my inbox. I can hope.

I gave up on the idea of getting up at 5AM to work. I tried it for two weeks
straight. The first week I was OK, the second, I was exhausted. By last
Sunday, I was completely over the whole thing... which may be part of the
reason for my rant and proclamation on Monday. I was just too damned tired,
having gotten up early the day before and not gone to sleep until after 2AM.

Sleep dep fucks up even the best of us.

Anyway, after all that, I gave up. I may be a morning person but not THAT
time of the morning. Not only that but getting up at 5AM meant going to bed
at 9PM (at the latest). I haven't gone to bed at 9AM since I was a child. On
Monday night I started getting sleepy around 10PM-not unusual, I was still
loopy from the weekend-so I went to bed.

What do you know, I woke up at 5:30AM yesterday and 5:45 this morning. No
alarm, I just woke up naturally. I did doze a little (after all, I'd
purposely not set my alarm because I had no intention of getting up so
early), but it was clear that I had slept enough.

The hell?

So I got up. Yesterday I made myself a nice smoothie, watched some primate
soaps on Animal Planet and went to the gym. When I got home I took advantage
of the fact that I was still in the titling system and made notes on some of
the articles I need to write. This morning? I'm not sure. I know that
breakfast and yoga are both in the equation, but that's about it. Maybe more
titling. Maybe writing.

I just find it funny that I stopped forcing myself to get up at 5AM and
ended up waking up at about the same time anyway. The only difference, I
feel MUCH more functional and rested.

So anyway, yeah, after all that bluster on Monday... still titling.

Working Without a Net

I'm having one of those days where I have stuff to say but I'm not quite sure how to say it.

As I said in my inaugural post, this blog is mainly about my experiences with LOA. Of course, by saying that I gave this thing A PURPOSE and now I feel like I have to remain germane to the plot, even when all I want to talk about is my day.

Then I realized that my day is part of the journey and, therefore, fair game.

Or, at least, that's how I've decided to look at it.

So, anyway, on Saturday I saw a status on FB that got me thinking. This friend was talking about how she'd just gotten an offer for a job that was closer to home and had better hours and pay than her current job. She sounded really happy and excited and that she's already decided to take the job. You'd think that would be the end of it but it wasn't. The reason for her status update was not to announce that she'd found this awesome opportunity, but to say that she was trying to figure out how she could do BOTH jobs.

When she elaborated, one of the things she said was that she knows she can continue working for her current employer long after other places might pass her over due to age. The hours sucked, the commute was hell, and it wasn't sufficiently challenging, but it was (and would always be) there.

It's her safety net.

I think she should take the leap and quit the old job--she's doing herself any favors by trying to hold onto it. She's got this wonderful opportunity and she's turning it into something stressful by trying to figure out how she's going to juggle two full-time jobs. And if she tries the juggling act then when (not if) she gets burned out, she'll end up back at her safety net, with the long commute and crappy hours, because it's safe.

Here's the problem with safety nets: They can catch you but they can also trap you.

So, in an earlier post I mentioned how I'd made some changes to my work schedule. Specifically, that I reduced my work day to 8hrs from the "work until you make enough" method that I was using previously. I said that it was working for me, and it was... sort of. I certainly wasn't making any LESS but I was also not making enough. And I was still working way too hard for WAY too little a return.

Let me explain about my job.

I actually have two jobs with this company: I'm a freelance writer and I also do something called titling.

As a writer, I like that I can pick what I want to write. On the other, I haven't found anything interesting in months.

There are thousands of titles but they are all poorly categorized--like the hundreds of automotive titles under healthcare. As a result, I haven't written for this company in a while. Every now and then I find something marginally interesting, grab it, then release it because I just can't seem to give a shit.


Writing pays $15 a pop. On a good day I could write five articles but it might take me eight hours. One reason is that content production doesn't really match my writing style. Like I said before, I like making shit up: pure embellishment with broad strokes of hyperbole.

There is no room for hyperbole in the world of web content. We have templates and guidelines and we have to follow a very specific style.I am fully capable of writing this way, I just don't like it. I find it stifling and I feel like I'm in school-writing a never ending assignment for English Comp 101.

But I digress.

I loved titling because on a good day I could make $40/hr. ($60 on a REALLY good day). I loved it because work was plentiful and consistent, I could work any time of day and I didn't have to work a lot. I loved it because the management seemed to give a shit and because they promised (IN WRITING) that there would always be work available. I loved it... and then they had to go and fuck things up.

First, we ran out of work. And, when people asked about it they made with the "We never promised you a rose garden" speech. Actually, they did. They specifically said "You will never run out of work." After a little more than a year I realize that this company likes to make big, bold announcements that are only marginally rooted in reality then say "How could we have known it wouldn't work?" when called on it. Uh... because it's YOUR JOB to know.

Then they changed the system. They created all new job titles, made people reapply, got rid of a lot of people, changed the interface and cut pay. The system goes down more often than a $2 hooker, it sticks and hangs and titles have run out for anywhere from hours, to days. At one point, we were without titles for MONTHS. There have been two times when system was so slow bad that nobody was able to work at all. We had a huge backlog of titles but no one was able to do them. On a good day, I can average about $20/hr. There aren't a lot of good days. During the really bad times, I was lucky to make $5/hr.

They became assholes. They keep moving and changing the criteria. For a while, we didn't have any clear criteria and we were often told to use our best judgment. Unfortunately, if our judgment didn't match theirs, we were penalized: Warning, then Probation then Removal. So there's always this worry that you'll pick one too many bad titles, or reject one two many good title (based on vague and nebulous criteria) and be out. Meanwhile, they'd "fix" the system on a Friday night only to make it ten times worse, then leave it that way the whole weekend.

Even though it was getting harder and harder to make a living and I was getting deeper in the hole, I put up with it.

Why?

Because it was A paycheck, even if it was a bullshit paycheck.
Because looking for a job sucks.
Because it USED TO BE a really cool job and I kept hoping it would go back to being the job that I wanted and needed.
Because, sometimes, it would get better and give me hope that things were improving.
Because I was afraid to move outside of my comfort zone (no matter how uncomfortable)

Because I was caught in my own safety net.

So, last Tuesday I applied for another job. Last Thursday I had the interview. The interview went well and I feel 90% positive that I got it. The other 10% is hopeful and has everything crossed. This job is not The Solution, it's only 30 hrs./week and only pays $14/hr., but I'm excited to get it anyway.

I still have to supplement this income with other work but at least I have a foundation. I work 30 hours, I make $420. Right now, I work 30 hours, I make... who the hell knows.

They take out taxes. A BIG plus because, I hardly paid any taxes last year and I owe $5000 to the IRS. I'll take employee deductions any day.

It's just as flexible as titling: I can work anywhere there's high speed internet and I can work at any time of day.

So, it's much like titling except more reliable.

But, like my friend, I found myself trying to figure out how I could juggle both jobs. I kept telling myself that I could do titling in the AM then this other job in the afternoons and, the entire time, I felt this lump in my chest at the thought of titling.

Well, this weekend I had to pull some marathon sessions because my Friday paycheck was short, again, some more. I was back to working all day, and into the night. I was back to not going to the gym in favor of getting work done. I needed to hustle to get a shitload done in time for Tuesday's pay. I did it, and I was miserable the whole time. Mainly because I had to do the same thing last weekend, and the weekend before that, and every single weekend since I can remember.

I realized that I needed to follow the same advice that I gave my friend. I needed to let go of that safety net.

So I'm done with titling. Whether or not I get that other job (and I really hope I do), I'm done with titling. Life is too short and they've gotten enough of my time.

What am I going to do if I don't get that other job? I still have writing, and there are other opportunities. I'll figure it out. Right now, it feels good to be done with this.

Oh yeah? Say that to me again, tomorrow.

Five years ago I wrote a rant about being "rich" and whatnot. It was influenced by, what I felt was, an insensitive forum comment to my description of a distressing situation. The person in question pointed out that, despite my loss, I was actually rich in comparison.

I find that the reception of 100 percent of all advice (good or bad) is a matter of timing. People say things that are intended to be comforting and, sometimes, they just come off all wrong. Or, not knowing the whole situation, they push a button they didn't know existed. As was the case five years ago.


The person in question intended to ease my mind by reminding me of all the stuff I still HAD instead of focusing on the comparatively small amount I'd LOST. Unfortunately, the way it was said and the way I perceived it did quite the opposite: I focused MORE on what I DIDN'T have.


We all have triggers. We all have things in our past that shape our present. I never understand people in personals ads who specify "No Baggage" as a relationship requirement. WE ALL HAVE BAGGAGE. Some may have MORE baggage. Some may have BIGGER baggage. But we all have baggage. You do not get through this world without carrying some residue of past experiences with you.


The difference is how you carry it.

Growing up poor is both a badge of honor for me (Ha! I Survived!) and a mark of Shame. Both are in my bag. Along with all the times I went without and all the times my sense of security was threatened. And, with all that's been going on these past few months,  I've been handling that baggage a LOT--carrying it, shuffling the contents, keeping it in easy reach in event of "emergency". And the thing is, compared to all the positive stuff I have, that bag is pretty small.. HEAVY but small. Five years ago, I was slinging that bag around for all it was worth. Hell, I still sling it.

And don't you dare tell me I can put the damned thing down when I'm in the midst of a full on swing. Cause I'll put it down alright, and unpack it all over you. I know it's not fair but, that's what you get for jumping in front of a moving train.


There are several things that I have learned from experience:

You don't get in the middle of two people (or dogs) fighting, and when someone is upset (be it grief, anger or any strong emotion) and venting, Shut up, listen and Commiserate. Save the wise words for when they've calmed down. Because they will not hear it otherwise.

It doesn't mean you have to take it if someone is being abusive towards you. But if they are using you as a sounding board, asking RHETORICAL questions like "WHY ME!" just shut up and listen. And for God's Sake do NOT attempt to explain "Why You". They are in a deep, dark, narrow place and all they can see is the light, or lack thereof in the end.

There is no perspective in tunnel vision.

So, after a night's sleep and a chance to calm down I can put the damned bag down and actually listened to the INTENT of what this person said to me. I was able to focus on the things I HAD instead of what I'd LOST.

Sometimes it just takes time, distance and a night's rest.

Take Your Middle Class Guilt and Shove it

A journal entry from back in 2005:


Yesterday was a bad day.


After a long sleepless night (caused by intense humidity and a lack of air conditioning or even a cool soothing breeze) I awoke to discover that I was $67 overdrawn,  my refrigerator is broken and a balmy 60 degrees and all my perishables are garbage. Which means, in addition to the $67 overdraft, I have to come up with $45 for the service call. And then theres the cost of food.


So I was on a message board and I posted a severely shortened version of the above information.
One of the replies I got said something like: "On a positive note, compared to 4/5 of the world you are very lucky and rich in comparison."

Because I had food and a refrigerator to put it in...


Okayyy... So now HERE'S THE POINT OF MY RANT

I DON'T LIVE IN 4/5 OF THE WORLD, I LIVE HERE AND HERE I AM BROKE. And Speaking of that. Although I DID have a refrigerator AND food, I now, in fact have NEITHER.

I understand that there are starving people in the world who would give their eye teeth to LOSE a fraction of what I HAD. Believe me, I do. But, contrary to popular belief, being poor in the "Richest Country On Earth" Still makes you poor. And it still sucks. And, in some ways, it's WORSE because the dividing line between Poor and Not Poor is much less defined.


After all, you can have a car and a house and a job and still not be able to feed yourself or your family. Or, you may still have to budget what you spend on food with very little leeway. Having a refrigerator full of food does not make you rich. Being able to replace that refrigerator full of food at a moments notice, without having to sacrifice something else, does.


When I was in school at Antioch College, some of my School mates decided to have a "Hunger Day".

I was on the 7 meal plan at the time. Meaning I got one meal a day from the cafeteria and, the rest of the time, I was on my own. So I had to make it count because I didn't have the money to buy much food outside of what the caf provided.

Enter Hunger Day.

The cafeteria was closed all day and this campus group hosted "Educational" Activities. Loads of information focusing mostly on the third world, completely ignoring the starving in their own country... Hell ON THEIR OWN CAMPUS. After all, if you can afford to be at Antioch college, you must be rich. And even if you're not, compared to some guy in New Guinea, you are.


Yeah, but that poor guy in New Guinea is in NEW FUCKING GUINEA. Sun, Sand, Beaches, and a majority of his peers are in the same economic boat. I'm poor in OHIO. And living in a society where several of my so-called-peers are not even in the same economic OCEAN.


But I digress.


Hunger Day was almost 20 years ago and I am still resentful. See, I HAVE been hungry and I have been poor. (which is one of the reasons this loss of good and nutritious food really hurts me).  And I WAS hungry and poor at the time of the event. I didn't even have change for the vending machines, much less lunch in town.

At the time I could not articulate my resentment. I couldn't put my finger on what was bothering me. This was due, In part, to my buying into the propaganda of  "I'm an American and that automatically makes me rich so I don't have the right to complain if I have to do without. We're so much better off than those poor people over there."

Now I can.

HOW DARE YOU presume to teach me a lesson about poverty when I live in poverty every day!
HOW DARE YOU presume to teach me about hunger by denying me my one meal of the day, thereby denying me the right to choose whether or not I wanted to participate. 
HOW DARE YOU refuse to acknowledge that hunger was NOT a break from routine but a GRIM REALITY for some people on that campus.
HOW DARE YOU presume that I don't have the right to complain about being hungry.

So yeah. My perishables are gone, my fridge is broken and I have to fix this problem post haste.
Five years from now, that refrigerator of food won't matter (It doesn't - 05/2010). But, right now, it's an unpleasant and unwelcome setback and it's money that really should be going somewhere else.

Will I recover? Sure. Because I HAVE to. 
Is it the end of the world? No.
Am I better off than some. Yes.


But I really wish people would shut the hell up about how "rich" I am by default because of where I live and what I have, (or what they THINK I have). Especially when they have no Idea how hard I have to work to get it or what I would have to do without to get it back.

Self-Evident Truths

When taking a 5-Mile walk do NOT eat a large meal in the middle of it. You can either digest OR exercise, not BOTH.

When attending a pilates class after said walk, you WILL earn the nick-name "Windy"

When driving to Colorado, from Ohio, in late Summer, do NOT leave at Dawn. The sun Never EVER sets.

There are Exes and there are Whys and too many of either is generally not good.

It IS possible to be friends (and good friends at that) with an Ex but it takes a LOT of time, personal growth and forgiveness on both sides.

Just when you think life couldn't possibly kick you in the ass any more, it does. But it usually gives you something pretty cool too. If you can stop focusing on the ass-kicking for a minute, you might actually see it.

You get what you pay for, and you pay for what you get.

The path not traveled is not necessarily better than the one you're on. Just different.

If you could go back in time and make yourself do something differently, It wouldn't work because:

a) Our choices are based on the information available at the time;
b) Our choices are based on our head space at the time;
c) We probably had someone in our life, at the time, telling us to (or not to do something) and we didn't listen because we were sure we were doing the right thing; and
d) Self meeting Future-Self = Inevitable Freak-Out

If you could go back in time and change a major historical event (ie: Kill Hitler before he comes to power), it probably won't work because everything that happens is just one event in a continuum. Changing one element may change the outcome, but not necessarily for the better. Good can come out of even the worst of events.

The best thing is to Focus on RIGHT NOW, because that's all you have. But understand that RIGHT NOW, affects tomorrow.

In all of your experiences, good and bad, the common denominator is you.

It's better to be lonely by yourself, than with another person.

Alone and Lonely are NOT the same thing.

There is NOTHING wrong with being a Crazy Cat Lady.

Always make sure you've got your back.

Fear can be useful but it can also keep you down. If it's not life-threatening, try it. You have a 50/50 chance of success. If you don't try at all, you are 100 percent guaranteed to fail

It is better to regret something you have done, than something you haven't done... MOST of the time.

Eating nasty food that gives you crampy gas is one of those exceptions

Urine is Sterile

There Goes The Neighborhood

This is not strictly LOA-related but I like it and I'm posting it.

I wrote this a couple of years ago, as a journal, when I was living in a crappy neighborhood. I does touch on issues of what we attract into our lives, but it's mostly just a rant.

****************

There is this belief that when a certain type of person--a "bad element"--moves into a neighborhood, they bring the property values down and quality of life diminishes.

Some of that thinking is the basis of "White Flight" out of urban and semi-urban areas.

Usually said "bad element" are Black, Poor and from "The Projects".

I used to believe that was entirely bad thinking until I met my neighbors.

And not just the ones next door. The ones across the street, and two houses down, and two houses up and over THERE and... about half the damn street actually.

Apparently, a lot of my neighbors are either:
a) related to each other; or
b) really good friends

Because they all party together ALL THE TIME.

Ok, so maybe ALL THE TIME is exaggerating a bit, how about A LOT.

They have what I can only describe as Block parties. Several houses participate, playing loud music into the streets at all hours, blocking driveways, wandering the street intoxicated...

I mean, when you have ONE anoying neighbor, that's bad enough but when it's most of the street? What do you do? Move? Put the cops on Speed Dial? Learn to live with it? Become a sniper? What?

I could say that it would be different if I were invited to their little soirees but, that's not true. I don't want to hang out with these people. They annoy me with their inability to shut the fuck up and their letting their dogs roam free and their loud-assed music and their public drunkeness and their I-Live-Here-So-I-Own-The-Whole-Damn-Street attitudes...

I just want peace, quiet, an obstruction-free driveway and a beer can free lawn. I just want them to shut the hell up and respect that there are SOME people on the street who don't want to have to deal with that shit.

I want them to realize that they are living on a RESIDENTIAL STREET and not the damn projects.

And, yeah, that was a classist thing to say. I freely admit it.

I'm black, my neighbors are black--African American if you prefer--but that's where the similarities end. I didn't grow up in an area where stuff like this happened.

To be clear, I did NOT grow up in Happy View Hills Lane Place with stately McMansions and white picket fences. And I did NOT grow up rich… or even comfortably middle class.

As a matter of fact, I grew up in a neighborhood much like this--working class and preredominantly black. But, when I was growing up, the street I grew up on was quiet. People didn't pull this shit. Although 98 percent the neighborhood was Black, they owned their homes and cared about having a nice, quiet place to live. They respected each other and they respected the concept of Private Property and Public PEACE.

And I will admit that my comment about the projects is not entirely right. There's more to being an inconsiderate asshole than coming from "The Projects". Go up to "Frat Row" near the university and you encounter the same shit. And most of those people are NOT from the projects.

It all boils down to a wanton disregard for other people, no matter how you color it.

I know this.

But I also know that a lot of the people in my neighborhood (and other semi-urban neighborhoods in my city) ARE from "The Projects". After City Council decided it would be great to tear them all down to make way for high-priced Yuppie condos, they had to go somewhere.

But there is more to it than that. For some reason, there are people in this world who, when presented with something nice, have to turn it to shit. Maybe because shit is all they know. Maybe because they think they are ENTITLED to turn it to shit.

Again with the wanton disregard for other people.

So, they party in the street and toss their empties anywhere and generally trash the place. After all, someone else will clean it up, and if it doesn't get cleaned up, that's ok too. They don't care either way.

Some people just can't have nice things. The problem is, they tend to make it hard for other people to have nice things too.

And once it starts, it's hard to stop it. When the street I grew up on changed, my mother moved. She put up with it for a while then put her house up for sale. There were other reasons but the quality of life in her old neighborhood was a huge factor. Other neighbors moved as well, and some stayed and put up with it through gritted teeth.

That's not right. We shouldn't have to put up with it through gritted teeth. We shouldn't have to put up with it at all. And we shouldn't have to move either.

But what we DON'T do is band together and show a unified front. We don't form our own group and make it clear that that shit won't fly. We suffer, individually, in silence. We don't even bother calling the cops anymore because that just makes it worse. They get LOUDER in defiance the minute the cops leave. I've called the cops FIVE times in one night before, a WEEK NIGHT. At 4:30AM I gave up. I'd start a neighborhood group if I even had the first idea of where the "troubled" end and the "troublemakers" begin.

Some may say, "Hey, that's what you get for buying a house in a ‘bad’ neighborhood." But No. That's NOT what I deserve. That's not what anyone deserves. There are noise ordinances and public drunkeness laws and leash laws for a reason, because no one deserves having their peace disturbed on a regular basis.

Because everyone deserves a nice place to live and home should not be a source of stress and discomfort.

At least, my home shouldn't. My home is my refuge from the world, my sanctuary, my Elysium. Hard to achieve when the world keeps intruding. I have no air conditioning, I shouldn't have to keep my windows closed for a little peace and quiet.

I think the thing that bugs me the most is that, I firmly believe in The Golden Rule. That I, personally, should not do anything to anyone that I would not want someone to do to me.

So, I don't have loud parties in the street. I don't throw my trash in my neighbor's yard. I don't block their driveways. I don't drive my car down the street with the volume on ELEVEN. I don't sit in front of people's houses in my car with said volume at ELEVEN. I don't block traffic both ways to have a conversation with my homies. I don't stand in the street having screaming arguments with my "baby daddy". I don't stand in the street and yell incoherently because I can. I don't let my dog roam the neighborhood without a leash.

I don't, in short, act like an inconsiderate Fuckwad raised by rabid dingoes. I CAN'T, (even though my neighbors deserve a healthy blast of NIN at 6AM - when they are sleeping off the drunk), because that goes against my basic nature. It's just WRONG.

I keep to myself and "don't bother nobody" and expect others to do the same.

It's like living with a slovenly roommate who is perfectly happy to wallow in his own shit and trash your living space. Except, you can't kick this "roommate" out.

It used to be that when I heard people complain about not wanting people from "The Projects" moving into their neighborhoods. I used to think "You racist fucks, these people have as much right to be here as you."

But when I find myself looking forward, with trepidation, to a long night of: drunken incoherent screaming; loud music; intrusion upon my property; the sounds of beer bottles hitting pavement; and the occasional gunshots…

When I wake up in the morning (if I've slept at all) with my yard glittering in the morning light with shards of broken beer and liquor bottles and soggy clothes (the fuck?) and empty food containers strewn about

I find myself thinking maybe the whites had the right idea.

Ahhh Ahhhh LEAVE IT

I.
Am.
On a ROLL tonight.

Ok. So. For the past several months I've been having issues with work. See, on the surface, my job is EXACTLY the job I want... except the pay sucks... and there's a lot of bullshit to contend with.

But, the hours are flexible--I can take time off mid-morning to go to the gym--and I don't have to commute 52 miles a day to do it.

But, as flexible as the job is, for the longest time I found myself working really long hours and neglecting everything else.

And, the thing is, this job is NOT what I want to do for the rest of my life.

I'm a writer. I write fiction. I write blog entries. I write articles, in a pinch. My dream is to publish and get paid to write my fiction and my opinion pieces... I can take or leave the articles.

Honestly, I'm not a fan of journalism. I like making shit up or, at the very least, pulling it out of my ass. I like fancy, extrapolation and hyperbole.

Facts are for suckas.

But I digress.

I was spending all my time doing this mindless data entry job and NONE of it on my writing--MY writing--or exercise, or eating right, or anything but this job.

I would sit for hours trying just to meet my minimum daily goal. And I always told myself that I would write a few paragraphs (or start this blog) when I finished my work for the day.

I never finished my work for the day.

The harder I tried to make it work, the worse it got. The server would go down, the workload would slow. I'd try to write some articles and be stricken with an apathy so deep it made me nauseous.

So, I'd panic. And try harder. Get up earlier in the morning, stay up later at night, try to work through the hinky, jerky server issues. All the while getting more upset, more panicked, more desperate.

So I decided to stop trying.

****

There are two ways to stop trying: you stop doing or you stop caring.

The not doing is the "bad" way to stop trying. It's the writer who stops writing, or stops submitting his work. It's the student who stops studying or drops out. It's the performer who stops auditioning. It's the unemployed person who stops sending out resumes or going to interviews.

You get the gist.

I have to say that I was tempted to take this route.

Hell, I was working my ass off and getting nowhere, so why bother?

But then I remembered there was another way.

Not caring.

I'm not talking about apathy--that goes back to not doing. I'm talking about not caring about the result. Not getting attached to what happens. Doing without focusing on a specific goal.

It's exercising because it feels good, not to lose weight. It's writing to tell your story, whether or not it gets published. It's working to get something done, not to meet a specific monetary goal.

I stopped my 12-hr days, for the most part. I have to admit, this process is still new and I still have my moments. But, I stopped. I set a schedule, and I set it around things that nurture me, like making meals and working out.

I found that I didn't make any LESS money and, sometimes, I made more. I was still short so I let my FB friends know I was looking for more work. I didn't care if I got anything or not, I put it out there to put it out there -- I ended up with several leads, one of which resulted in an interview.

I stopped freaking out over eventualities. If it hasn't happened yet, I make a note of it and move on to the right-now stuff.

I let, the fuck, go.

Sometimes you have to do that. The things we want are like mercury. You can't hold mercury with an iron grip.

I think back to another story about a zen master and his student. The master sent his student to town to get cooking oil. He told the student that it was really important because they really needed that oil.

The student got the oil and, on the way home, he walked slower than usual. He took note of every obstacle in the road and held the bowl rigidly.

He also fell several times and spilled every drop of oil in the bowl.

The master sent him back and told him, "this time, do what you always do.

He walked the path normally and made it back to the monastery with a full bowl of oil.

He just let, the fuck, go.

Sometimes, when you want something so badly and try so hard, you just make it worse.

To quote Yoda: There is no try, only do.

Sometimes, you just gotta leave it.

Addicted to Feeling Bad

I have read a lot of self-help books that focus on the Law of Attraction. One of the issues I have with those books is that they might work and should work, but often don’t. The main premise of every, single, one of these books was that manifesting prosperity was a simple matter of thinking (or feeling) it into being -- Of sending out good vibrations to attract good vibrations back.

I believe in the law of attraction. I believe that we get back exactly what we put out. I also believe that, as in What the Bleep Do We Know, that we can get caught in the vicious metaphysical cycle where negativity can grow exponentially, constantly feeding on itself and everything else around it. And I believe that negativity is, in many ways, stronger than positivity -- stronger but not necessarily more powerful (but more on that later).

Negativity is like a cancer. It grows and spreads and, often, you don’t even realize how far it has gone until things start falling apart. And by the time that happens it’s way too late and things have already started to snowball. Negativity is sneaky and insidious and… delicious.

The taste of negativity is like holding an ice-cold knife between your teeth -- Cold, metallic, sharp, unyielding. At first the metal taste fills the mouth but, after a while you don’t taste it at all. The metal warms to your mouth and the metal taste becomes part of everything else and you kind of, settle into it until that metallic taste becomes sweet and smooth, like vanilla ice cream.

Meanwhile, on a cellular level, your adrenal glands are pumping what seems like gallons of adrenaline and cortisol into your system, making you edgy and nervous and oh so very, very high. And your cells are screaming: “Give me more!” So you find more things to get angry about, you find more stuff to scare yourself with, or you just keep rehashing the same old stuff, anything to keep it flowing -- that delicious cold metal and adrenaline cocktail.

And if even if you have the presence of mind to say: “Hey, wait a minute. This isn’t getting me anywhere… This isn’t working… I need to stop” it doesn’t really stop. There’s that brief moment of lucidity then something else sets it off.

I remember one time when I was angry with my grandmother. I was going on and on about this thing that she does all the time and how it just pissed… me… off so much that I couldn’t stand even being around her. Then I realized what was up and I said to myself: “You know, you’ve really got to let this go. You really need to move on and just live and let live. You’re not going to change her and she’s not going to change herself and…”

And it was at that point that I pissed myself off again! “Why *can’t* she change? Why should *I* have to accept it. She gets to go on doing what she does, while the rest of us have to put up with it. Why do *we* have to be the better people?”

And on, and on.

Negativity it’s like a sugary snack that you can’t stop eating and makes you sick because of it. But you keep eating it, even after you start vomiting.

I think the reason that a lot of those books fail is not because the Law of Attraction isn’t real, but because none of these books really takes into account the whole addiction to negativity thing and none of them really tells you how to actually Feel It. Because, the thing is, you can think it and say it all you want but that’s not what makes it so.

If you don’t believe, it doesn’t matter.

And here’s one fundamental truth, believing is easy when it’s already perceived to be true.

It’s no secret, that it’s easy to be positive when things are already going well. But what happens when you’re eyeball-deep in debt and all your coworkers are getting laid off and your workload has increased and your boss is breathing down your neck because your productivity has gone down and you’ve taken a 10% pay cut and you’re a month late on the utility bills and the cupboards are bare?

In short, what happens when you are a very naked, very vulnerable infant in a world full of rabid, hungry, dingoes?

In that instance, there is not a single good thought or affirmation that’s going to change the fact that you are, metaphorically (and possibly literally) screwed. Repeating “I’m OK” over and over isn’t going to stop the rising tide of terror. And what was intended to be a calming mantra will be barely recognizable over the shrieking.

All of these books, in their wisdom, neglect to tell you the one, most important thing -- How to stop the bleeding. Most people don’t look to self help books when things are fine any more than they call a lawyer when they’re not in trouble. Because when things are fine THEY DON’T NEED HELP. Most Self-help books are written with long-term growth in mind, and most readers are looking for an instant solution to a very immediate problem.

And the Catch-22 of the Law of Attraction is that you have to be in a relatively positive place in order to get to a positive place.

So, back to the idea that negativity is stronger, but not more powerful, than positivity. What does that mean? Well, think of a big, beefy body builder and a wiry, little ninja. The body builder is stronger than the ninja but his only weapon is brute force. The ninja is faster and more agile and has spent years training to subdue a larger, stronger opponent.

So why does it seem to take so long for the positive happen? Because we first have to undo our negative thought patterns. And, just like the wiry ninja fighting the body builder, it takes time and patience and a lot of evasive maneuvers.

The key is to somehow grab on to even the smallest kernel of positivity and nurture it. You may be drowning but, at least, the water is warm. In even the darkest of times there is a light. It may be small, dim and distant-- it may even be an oncoming train--but it’s there.

Feel it Real

One of my biggest pet peeves about most books on the Law of Attraction is that they always tell you to think happy thoughts.

Well, not really--I'm being way too simplistic.

What they say is to visualize what you want and believe that it is already yours. To focus on the positive and all the things that you have instead of what you do not.

And it makes sense...

Until rent's due and your paycheck is $100 short. Or your car starts making troubling noises while you're a week behind on the car payment.

Then, just about all you can think about is what you don't have because it's keeping you from doing what you need--much less what you want.

This year started difficult for me, and I spent a good deal of it trying my damnedest to focus on the positive--even when I felt like I was going to implode.

I did my best to believe that my situation was improving, even while it continued to deteriorate.

I made every effort to ignore the stress, depression, fear and rage.

And that's where I fucked up.

Here's the deal.

Sometimes... Often times... Oh hell, all the time, you gotta feel that feel. Even when it's some negative, stank-assed shit.

Don't dwell on it, don't wallow in it. But, for the love of god, FEEL it.

Because it's going to happen, no matter what.

Throwing happy thoughts at bad feelings doesn't make them go away. Any more than ignoring bullies makes them stop threatening to kick your ass after school.

Now, when I wake up stressed and I tell myself "I'm stressed."

I don't tell myself to think about puppies and rainbows. I don't tell myself to list five things for which I am grateful. I don't tell myself that I'm smart, successful and, gosh darnit, people like me!

I tell myself to examine what I'm feeling. Is it just stress or is there something else mixed in? Is it just a mild twinge or is it the paralyzing, chest-crushing kind of stress? And, most importantly, what the hell is going on to make me feel this way?

Most times it has to do with money -- needing it, not having it, getting it -- what else is new?

I acknowledge what's going on, figure out what I can and can't do about it, and focus on the "cans." Even if the only "can" on the list is getting my sorry ass out of bed.

Then I make with the puppies and rainbows and "Hot Damn! But it's a beautiful morning!"

Otherwise, I end up spending my day trying to spread butter on a shit sandwich.

By acknowledging my feelings, and even embracing them, I can diffuse them. I can talk myself down from the ledge and actually see the whole picture, rather than making a bad decision out of short-sighted panic and desperation.

Does it work 100% of the time? Hell no. There are some days when my feelings are so negative I can barely think straight. there are days that I have to do this exercise over, and over and over because those feelings keep coming back. There are days when they sneak up on me until I realize I've been gnashing my teeth for hours.

But there are more days where I can turn things around and keep things in perspective.

Do I believe that a lottery win is around the corner?

I'm not quite there yet.

But I am a lot more relaxed and happier than I was when I ignored my feelings in favor of "happy thoughts."

About Freaking Time

So... I started this blog (it seems like) months ago and I'm finally getting around to actually writing something.

I started this blog because I wanted to write my thoughts on The Law of Attraction.

Now, before anyone gets twisted, I'm going to come right out and say that I am NOT a meta-physicist or any other type of physicist. I'm also not trying to sell anyone answers to some cosmic riddle. I ain't no guru and I'm not looking for one either.

The most I know about Quantum Physics is that there's no "N" on the end of "quantum."

I watched "The Secret" and was impressed... by the production values.

I watched "What the Bleep Do We Know" and it got me thinking.

I firmly believe that "The Secret" is no secret and that what I don't know is dwarfed only by the size of the known universe.

I do NOT believe that the Universe is a cosmic sugar daddy just waiting to hand-deliver anything I ask for.

But I DO believe that what comes to me is directly related to what I put out, and that my biggest obstacle in getting what I want is me.

That said, I have been working to put better stuff out there and to get out of my own way.

Of course, it's easier said than done.

I have a lot of anger.

Ok... I have a lot of rage.

I also have a lot of fear and uncertainty. I struggle with depression, and that depression often turns to anger because, otherwise, I'd never get out of bed in the morning.

I've made bad decisions, especially where money is concerned, that are still biting me in the ass today.

I think I may have Adult ADD and am prone to distracted, self-sabotaging behavior.

I'm obese and out of shape despite my best (read half-assed) efforts.

In short, I am a hot mess.

I am just like hundreds of thousands of people who are trying to follow The Secret, or the writings of Napoleon Hill, or Esther and Jerry Hicks.

The ones think, think, think those happy thoughts. Who make dutiful entries into those "Gratitude Journals." Who say positive affirmations five, ten, 100 times a day.

The ones who must be doing something wrong because it's just.

Not.

Working.

I can't tell you how to turn off the negative thoughts or how to avoid waking up with that sinking, doomed feeling.

I can't tell you how to manifest a bajillion dollars with just the power of your mind.

Like I said, I ain't no meta-physicist. I ain't no expert.

I'm just dancing through the graveyard.

Sometimes it's from desperation, or fear--keeping the boogie man at bay.

Other times its from finding joy in unlikely places.

My ultimate goal is more joy and less fear.

This is my time, and this is the record of my time.

I'm taking the wheel and you are welcome to join me on the journey.