Monday, February 7, 2011

Someone Call a Waaambulance

Yep, you got it. I'm up again at an un-Godly hour to whine. I can't help myself. From the immortal lyrics of a favorite song "I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell..."(Matchbox Twenty, "Unwell").

Since whining doesn't really work for me anymore and feeling sorry for myself certainly gets me nowhere, it's time to get rid of it. And this is where I come to do it. Feel free to log off at anytime. It won't be pretty.

Yesterday I was speaking to one of my favorite people on the phone. (Real names will not be used to protect the innocent). She was telling me about how a mutual friend was going to have a series of surgeries to correct a facial disfigurement caused by too much facial tissue being removed to save oneself from deadly cancerous cells. Our friend had most of one side of their nose removed to save them from melanoma advancing into lethal stages.

I was like "YAY!" in my mind hearing this news though it sounded like a long road our friend was going to have to be on to get through all of these surgeries. But when I was told that she suggested to our friend that he call me because I know all about having a not-so-great nose left behind by a botched surgery, I was like "Nooooooo!".

Of course I laughed it off and said not one word about how unfucking cool that was. I could never do something like that! *gasp* So instead I hold it in all damn day, stuff it, and let it turn into a resentment that wakes me up at this hour just to whine about it on my blog. Waaaaaaa!

I've been home for 4 days straight nursing a sick child back to health. She and I stayed home Thursday and Friday battling a ridiculous fever and an even more ridiculous pediatrician that couldn't find time for a same-day sick visit.

Did I launch into "Mama Bear Mode" and demand that my daughter get an appointment? No. Did I demand to speak with another appoinment setter in the hopes of being seen? No. Did I just take my baby down there and show up unannounced and say "Here, fix her. It's what my insurance pays you to do!" No.

I just stayed home with her loving her as best as I could. It all worked out fine. Riley is back to 100% again and I'm so over feeling inadequate, well, except for the lingering feeling that I suck as a Mom when it comes to being firm and getting the proper care she needs.

So, instead of calling their office today to voice my opinion of their lame same-day sick visit regulations, I'm going to passive aggressively find another pediatrician and have her records transferred. That'll show 'em. Waaaaaaa!

Today is Monday. That sucks all in it's own right but I've had 4 days "off" and it puts a new spin on the suckiness of a normal Monday. This morning I am not able to find the gratitude I need to get me excited to get my ass up (wait, I'm already up) and go to my job. And what stinks even more is that I need to watch what I say about my job because blogging over the world wide web about my lack of passion for what I do for a living might just find me unemployed at any moment thus launching me into instant gratitude for something I no longer have.

I will say this and shut up. It's tough for a self-centered, egomaniac like me to suit up and show up 5 days a week to a job where there's no passion, no future, not one bit of making this world just a little bit better. The best thing I can do today is be extra kind and respectful to the a-hole that calls in and takes out his a-holiness on the first person that answers the phone, a.k.a., me. Waaaaaaa!

Ugh. I took a "proofing break" and re-read this and found myself even more bummed out. If you're still reading this, let me help us out of this mess though I did warn you that it wouldn't be pretty.

It's be suggested to me in my almost 3 years of sobriety to not harbor resentments, a fancy word for holding a grudge and getting one step closer to another drink, and the focus on the solution rather than the problem. The more I focus on the problem, the bigger it gets. And I know today that this ego of mine does NOT need to get any bigger.

At this point in the game of life, I believe I need to take better care of myself. Plain sobriety is not enough. Setting boundaries comes to mind. Speaking up for what I believe in comes in as a close second.

What's so hard about telling someone that what they said has hurt my feelings? For a people-pleaser such as myself, it's very hard. But I've learned now that people pleasing is an oxymoron and the only thing it gets me is a resentment.

When it comes to the health of my child and demanding the best care she deserves, there's absolutely no excuse for not getting it. Bad Mommy, no biscuit.

And if I'm so damn upset about having a dead-end, going absolutely nowhere job, I need to get browse the classifieds for about 2 minutes and gain a different perspective. Or how about I go down to the nearest welfare office and see how fun hanging around there would be.

God I get on my nerves.

I can hear you now saying "Don't be so hard on yourself!" Well, too late. This is how I roll. Don't worry, it doesn't last nearly as long as it used to and I know today that there's no drink out there that will make this, or any bad situation, better.

The word "pray" just popped into my head. Thanks HP. That's a fancy word for my God, otherwise known as my Higher Power. It's been brought to my attention that the mention of the word "God" on my blog has turned some people off from reading it.

Ironic how it should be the bitching, moaning and groaning that should turn people off, not the mention of my concept of what keeps me sober, happy, joyous and free when I choose to lean on it.

So for those that think "God" is a four-letter word, too fucking bad.

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