You’re a winner
You did it
and we’re so proud
You piece of shit
You messed up
Calling you out on
all your mistakes
as you parade around
you’re the king
the most powerful of them all
Certainly not the fairest
or the most respected
How can I detest thee
more than I protest thee
Not just your ability
but your existence
You’re a fucking winner
More food pics ^^ …pretty pretty vegan doughnut.
See waffle pic in previous post “It’s really not that serious, so here’s my fall bucket list…” .
It’s easy to feel like a zombie sometimes. We’re creatures of habit and generally, work life creates this constant cycle of daily tasks and responsibilities we must adhere to. That’s why I try to find some little nuggets of fun throughout my relatively repetitive days. Here’s a peek into my average work day. What does your day look like, reader?
6am Wake up due to natural light peeking through my window.
6:01am Go back to bed.
6:30am Wake up again – for real this time.
Get ready, drive to work, don’t flip off the crazy highway drivers. Work, work, work.
9:15am Reminder goes off to let me know that I need to make a protein smoothie and down a B-Complex supplement. I actually do what my alarm says today.
10am Important phone meeting. Lead it like a #boss.
11am Starting to get hungry, but must resist the temptation of baked goods brought in by nice coworker.
11:01am Resisted. Maybe I will work out tonight.
11:30am Wish I had a standing desk, but I don’t, so I stand up and work on the gigantic notepad in the corner of my office space.
12pm Craft something tasty and vegetarian with ingredients I’ve brought to work. Today’s menu includes: spinach, tomatoes, vegetarian taco filling, avocado (YASSSS), hot sauce and crushed red pepper packets from that one office pizza party we had a million years ago.
Eat lunch, make calls, send emails, etc.
2pm NEED. TREAT. NOW. Go to organic grocery store that’s also a client. Say hi. Purchase vegan doughnut. Eat vegan doughnut. Great decision.
4pm What do I have to do after work? Oh yeah, more work, but on union stuff. Solidarity with my crew. Should I bring in treats for my coworkers tomorrow? Now I’m that nice coworker, slowly killing everyone with carb-overload.
5pm Change into workout clothes in work bathroom. Tying up my shoelaces means it’s really happening.
5:30pm I’m the only person not doing laps in my gym’s pool. Don’t worry, I’m not in the lap lanes, I’m in the open swim zone. I amuse myself by pretending I’m a buoy. This is adulthood.
7:30pm Make semi-nice diner since it’s just me tonight. On the menu: veggie burger, chips (weakness), big salad, more chips…
8pm After wolfing down dinner, turn on Netflix show for background noise while I work on union stuff. Thank GOD Law & Order:SVU is on Netflix. Olivia Benson is a badass #bossbabe.
10pm Wash face. ALWAYS. Tonight, I’m also treating myself to a YesTo Tomatoes face mask because we should all be going cruelty-free.
11pm(ish) Fall asleep with phone in hand (bad habit). Dream sweet dreams. Dream about the eventual apocalypse. Dream about vegan doughnuts.
Happy Thursday, y’all. Remember to tip your servers, support your local unions and #KeepMissoulaIndy.
This is my waffle^^
…doesn’t it look Leslie Knope-worthy?
Cross-legged in my office chair, at a desk scattered with bits of inspiration for an upcoming event, I make myself comfortable wearing a pocketed Adidas sweater, sweatpants that were definitely meant for the gym and hair that has been strategically placed into a “messy” bun. I’m barefoot, and loving it, but my Birkenstocks are next my work bag. I drink a homemade spinach-rich green juice and munch on tofu scramble with tempeh “bacon” (dat vegetarian life), all while sucking down a naturally caffeinated, probiotic beverage.
This is the morning I have dreamed of. I’m that girl; the girl that’s been in my head, desperately trying to escape, screaming at me to just do stuff I want to do/wear what I want to wear/be who I want to be, all because it’s FUN. Just because it’s fun, and some of it is healthy, but mostly fucking FUN.
I don’t always let myself enjoy things. Like, really enjoy things, especially sporadically. I make plans to lounge, plans to enjoy treats and plans to travel (that kind of planning makes the most sense to me). I’m working on doing the stuff that brings joy into my everyday life, without making every single thing a special, planned out occasion. So, this post is going to include my fall bucket list because, even though most of my posts and poems are relatively serious and relate to every day struggles with anxiety and depression, I revel in the fun, silly parts of life, and I’m a lover of list-making.* Plus, fall is my favorite time of year – once October 1 hits, I’m the happiest human, stopping at craft stores in search of the perfect fall decor. BUT, I am going to do some of these things without planning them weeks in advance. Maybe I’ll just take a night and drive to the corn maze (no mass text, no prep) or maybe I’ll see a scary movie after work.
Fall Bucket List
-Haunted Corn Maze
-All the haunted things
-Sign up for a class at the Lifelong Learning Center (I really need to work on my Spanish)
-Watch the following movies (my fall must-sees): Shaun of the Dead (the whole Cornetto Trilogy, really), Coraline, Cabin in the Woods, Psycho and Lord of the Rings
-Work on the official event website for tiny diamond (wear the grandma-sweaters, drink the tea, sit by the cat, and work!)
-Take at least one day trip to a nearby town and do everything for the ‘gram #basic
-Paint a pumpkin (no carving for this lady…I hate pumpkin guts, plus it makes my hands super cold)
-Eat all the pumpkin spice-flavored things!
I may add a few more things as I go, and that’s cool. That’s sporadic, right? …right?
Happy end-of-summer to you, reader, and thanks for accepting me for me. Especially when I end posts abruptly. I like to think it’s part of my charm.
*Uh, if you love list-making like I do, then you probably LOVE a good planner. My favorite one is from Passion Planner. Check ’em out and cry a little (from happiness, of course).
this i have
but did not earn
what is mine
at any given moment
for what is this thing
that fills me
i did not earn
i do not deserve
yet i live
Today, at nearly 30 years old, I learned that you can ask for exactly what you want and still be a good person.
I have always felt comfortable voicing my opinion, and calling out others when they’re being hateful or aggressive toward others; I have NO PROBLEM using my voice for the greater good*. And, as a constant work in progress, I will call myself out for being mean or rude to someone (I did not raise me to be like that).
But I’m also a people-pleaser. I want people to like me because, duh, it’s nice to be liked. So I sometimes find that I get taken advantage of – I will go above and beyond to make someone’s time on this Earth a little more special, but I’m learning how to do that without sacrificing my own happiness (and sanity)…it’s been a pretty steep learning curve.
I don’t think people always know they’re taking advantage of you. We get used to the way others treat us and if we’re treated well, we expect that moving forward. And I think it’s totally normal to expect to be treated well; to be treated with kindness, compassion and understanding. It’s just as normal to burn out if you’re someone who is fond of giving, and wanting to make others happy. And while speaking up can be empowering, I sometimes I feel like a high maintenance princess, even if I’m just asking for something to be corrected. Maybe it’s because I’m a woman who’s been trained to feel this way by society, maybe it’s because I lived through a relatively frustrating and difficult childhood where I felt the need to make everything okay, or maybe it’s simply the fact that I’m NICE and a good person*. Whatever it is, I need to work on standing up for myself, even if it’s just asking for my smoothie to be remade because it wasn’t what I ordered.
Stand up for yourself, and continue to be kind. You can do both.
*Cue Hot Fuzz…”The Greater Good!”
*Probably all of the above.
We were nestled in our gigantic beds, propped up by luxuriously squishy pillows, watching reality television and eating deliciously sinful pizza when she told me about her high school days.
“…so I tried to kill myself, and have been on antidepressants ever since.”
“No, I get it. I mean, I really get it.” I said, sharing my own stories about battling depression.
My coworker and I were sharing a hotel room for the weekend. It was the night before a company event that required travel, and we hadn’t spent much time together outside of the office.
But we had downed a couple beers before heading back to the room for the night, thus feeling a little more comfortable sharing our most personal stories (and secrets).
The day of the event was busy, and we were running all over the place. That night, we went out to celebrate, shared more stories and grabbed breakfast in the morning before the journey home.
The weeks that followed were as if personal stories had never been shared. As if we hadn’t teared up together while sussing out the darkest corners of our souls. And it wasn’t awkward or embarrassing; we carried on with our professional work relationship and went out for staff parties.
I’ve had this happen more often than I would like, and not just when alcohol is involved.
I connect with others by sharing stories. Most people do*. It’s my favorite part of forming relationships – when you start sharing stories about your childhood, your favorite books, things that make you angry, why you decided to never have kids…these stories about why people are the way they are or what they deem frustrating or joyous truly fascinate me. Sharing stories with others opens this door inside my soul that makes me feel like I’m connected to something bigger, something that makes me feel less alone.
But what can happen, is that sometimes you end up having life-changing conversations with people you barely knew and then, once you leave that specific moment, it’s as if the stories were never shared. It’s as if the conversation never happened, and you go back to your regular relationships. But things have changed because you’re a different person for listening to someone else’s hardships, their hopes, fears and dreams.
This doesn’t really bother me, but it does…
I don’t need anymore life-long friends. I have those, and they’re amazing. But I need that connection with people – I crave it. I spend most of the time at my job on my own, and I recharge by being alone, so when I do connect with others, I’m elated. But I’m also a selfish human, so I connect only when I want to. Which is why I don’t feel like I deserve to be bothered by anything I’ve just talked about. But that feeling is for another time. I guess that’s just another story for a different moment. Hopefully, when that time comes, you’ll feel comfortable sharing your story too.
Thanks for allowing me to share, reader. You are amazing.
*If you are curious about the meaning of Homo Narran and want to learn more, visit AMAZON to view John D. Niles’ work, Home Narrans: The Poetics of Anthropology and Oral Literature.