I Get By With A Little Help from My Friends

Ok, so the plan was to post about work life all last week but that didn’t exactly turn out how I wanted because I’m irresponsible. I got a lot of feedback from the work logs and I appreciate all the support! Confession: It’s actually really tough for a person that lives too much in their head. I love that people are connecting, are feeling—embracing (so corny) but when I hear positive feedback I psych myself out and get nervous about what people think. In spite of that, I’m trying get over myself and to continue to write as candidly as possible.

Summing up the work week: I made it through and I was terrified that I wasn’t going to. I also drank a lot this week—but I suppose getting over familiar coping mechanisms is something that’s going to take a bit of time. My supervisor was very sweet to me and so was everyone in the office upon my departure. Though I was doing menial work, it did feel good to be spoken to and respected as a fellow accountant (of sorts).  I forget the experience I have in the field because I do get caught up in the fact that I don’t have a degree but hearing all the terminology and being in the atmosphere reminded me that in spite of the my job situation I am good at what I do. I love to write, it’s my passion and it’s who I am but I also have a special (dorky) place in my heart for accounting. I need to figure out what I’m going to do with my life…

Summing up the week: Having friends and strangers understand what this week was for me was priceless. It was very sweet the texts and comments I got on my posts encouraging me to hang in there—and all the people who laughed with me and shared their own stories. This blog is probably one of the best decisions I’ve ever made—it prevents me from completely curling up into a ball of depression and shutting everyone out. This forces me to be even more open and honest than I already am (if that’s possible). Ok, I’m only going to say this once: THANK YOU ALL, for your support and love and interest and encouragement and laughs. I do laugh at myself a lot but I’m also very pained and for the life of me I am trying to work through it. This helps.

I plan to resume my regular posting on various topics and for those of you who don’t really like to read, I’ll be be back to posting the pics too!

–Your Homie



Temporary Insanity

 Day 3: Random Things from Today

Dude this morning dancing on the metro pole like a stripper.

Chatting with the receptionist turned into a story about how she tried to break the cycle of her family having children out of wedlock by trying to coerce her daughter into having an abortion. She then proceeded to show me pics of her grand daughter…

I must stop answering compliments with, “Yeah, I know. I’m so ridiculous”

I swear it was 10:30 A.M. for three hours!! Did anyone else notice that???

The other temp insisted on introducing himself to me. He cornered me in the breakroom and decided to tell me his whole back story. That’s one more person I have to fake smile at whenever I walk back to my office and say things like “Hanging in there?” *insert chortle here*. Anyway, he was attempting to have a conversation with me and I completely forgot that some people don’t understand sarcasm. After telling me he just came back from spending three years in Eastern Europe (maybe narrow it down, please? Not everyone is into geography!) my response was, “Oh, so you’ve just lived a boring life before moving to DC and working for the temp agency.” He just kind of looked at me like I was some stupid, uneducated bitch—which I am, but I don’t want to be looked at that way! He then proceeded to leave the microwave door open and it beeped for the rest of my lunch break. FML, dude!

 I spent most of the day listening to my supervisor apologize to me for making me do such menial tasks. My guess is that she took another look at my resume and realized that I’m a bit over qualified to be spending my days assembling bankers boxes and folding and stuffing envelopes. She really is just the sweetest lady, though I’m a little skeptical now because of the company she keeps. Today she went to lunch with the lady who laughs obnoxiously loud and snorts in derision. I don’t like people who snort in derision.  I am also not entirely sure derision is a word. (Unrelated: I don’t like people who use vocabulary they are clearly unfamiliar with).

I hope tomorrow is bring your flask to work day…

Can Someone Help Me With My Box?

Day 2: Uncomfortable Incidences: I spilled an entire trash can full of shredded documents on the floor of my bosses’ office– enough said

Missed Connections: S/o to short haired girl on metro with Super Mario Bros t-shirt and awesome dubstep/dance playlist on her headphones.

I brought Ramen noodles but no bowl to microwave it in. I also chose to wear a blazer over a one piece jumpsuit  so I had to get completely naked to use the bathroom…sometimes I really do hate myself. On top of that, I lied to the sweetest woman in the world today (my supervisor). I told her I might need to take an important call on my cell phone. She was fine with it and nice enough to ask me if it was from an interviewer and what job it was for. It was an interview alright– but it was social services calling to let me know if I’m eligible for food stamps or not. So, in order to avoid the awkwardness of my honesty I just told her I interviewed for some EA job. Seriously, it’s as if the universe doesn’t think I’m aware of how poor I am and keeps creating scenarios to remind me!

I also wrestled with bankers boxes all morning. It took me way too long to assemble the first one, so much time that I’m wondering if I should just add the phrase “idiot savant” to the special skills section of my resumè. I was also preoccupied most of the day. Working with boxes had me focused on the state of my very own box and thinking salacious thoughts. Just as I was seriously (sort of) contemplating celibacy, a sexy proposition falls into my lap and it’s looking like I just might be in the mindset to accept the offer. I need some discipline…and more whiskey.

–Your Homie

I Hope There’s No Camera in the Break Room

Day 1: Uncomfortable Incidences

            Got lost on my way to the bathroom (this is a given)

            Accidentally knocked down paper towel roll

It appears some of my cheap ass nail polish has smeared onto a few  documents

 I’ve squoze back into my little work pencil skirt and here I am, behind a desk again. The awesome upside is that because I’m specialized in the accounting field I get paid a little bit more than the average temp to essentially do the same filing and data entry crap. For this I am grateful! I’m sure I don’t have to share exactly how and why temp work absolutely sucks. For starters, I’ve met everyone on staff via awkward hellos as they were en route to the breakroom and/or bathroom. Also, you have to get a key from the receptionist to use the bathroom and I’m just not sure Mary and I are that close where she should be privy to my bathroom habits.

This morning I walked into the break room and the very first thing I noticed was the huge screen tv in the corner and a bottle of wine next to the coffee pot– things were looking up! However, microwaving my leftovers for lunch I noticed there was organic ketchup in the condiments drawer soooo I’m just hoping to successfully avoid the person that belongs to. (Organic ketchup = douchebag). I’m working for these cute little ladies that are all chatty and no clear directions. They’re so busy they barely wait to even listen to all I have to say before they’re moving on to the next thing– which works for me because I trail off the end of my sentences anyway because lazy. The major dilemma of the morning is that my breath smelled appalling. I usually keep gum in my purse but I had to swap out my hippie “Jerusalem” sack that my parents gave me when they went to Israel, for a regular purse and some stuff got lost in the transition. So, I’m towering over these tiny women with my awful breath and I think I know what a fire breathing dragon feels like.  You know, minus the power of setting people on fire to get what I want. Wow, this is starting to sound crazy!  Goodbye for now, I’ll keep you posted on day two.

Notes to self:

-Stop saying “yeah” say “yes.”

-Maybe less eyeliner tomorrow, your eyes keep watering.

-Bring snacks, you are HUNGRY!

-Remember the high powered electric stapler makes a loud noise and try not to shit yourself every.single. time you staple something!

–Ur Homie




Back to Work! Nothing to See Here

There may be nothing to see here for the next few days or so…or at least I will do my best to post. Or, I may post anyway, but there will be less images. Because of my low-fund situation I’ve accepted temporary work and the first gig starts tomorrow.

I am nervous as hell. I have been enjoying the respite while avoiding dealing with my greatest fear: am I capable of working a full-time job without my mental health suffering? I just really don’t know at this time. However, I must work to support my babies. On the bright side, my living out the summer just as weird as I want to be might make for some hilarious interactions once I’m released back into the professional world. Lord, beer me strength.

Inmate #720

Sometimes I forget I am actually crazy. I’m always shocked when someone points out irrational behavior or unhealthy habits. I am trying so hard to maintain control over this. I’m held prisoner inside of my own head and its maximum security; no way out. I try to warn people up front that I haven’t learned to tame myself…I really just want peace of mind. I don’t want to be driven by impulse. I’ve lost control of this plane and I’m nosediving, hurtling towards my death at hundreds of miles per hour. I don’t know how to get free.

Can You Pay My Bills?

I’ve been reading a lot of shitty dating books lately. As is my way, I’ve honed in on something and allowed myself to completely obsess about it. I apologize to those who aren’t really interested in the topic but I get approached so much, it made me realize that I should probably figure out my stance on the whole thing. (That sentence sounds arrogant, but I know I’m no Rihanna and that I only get approached a lot because there are a lot of really aggressive men in the area I live in. They aren’t necessarily interested in ME but any warm vagina in general).


Image from: dailydatingadvice.com 

I never really had to bother dating at all. High school was a bust, no one was interested so there was no learning experience there. After high school apparently there were guys interested but I was in my own world. I liked one dude and I pretty much just hung around until he married me. It never even occurred to me that I had the option of dating around. After I split with my ex husband I rekindled something with a guy who had a crush on me when he was 15…so I’ve been taking the easy way out for some time now. Here I am with two kids and a laundry list of questions wondering wtf I am doing. I think I want to date—on some level I can see how it would be fun and I would like the companionship. Then again, I’m pretty sensitive so when things end badly my mourning process is kind of extreme. What DO I want?


Image from: blogs.citypages.com

 This is the place for honesty so here goes: I just want someone to take care of me. There I said it, I feel so much better! I know we live in a society where women are supposed to be so independent but I don’t want that at all. Every time I take out my trash I think to myself, “What am I doing? Some dude should be doing this?” I think this every time I carry groceries up three flights of stairs, when I take the car for an oil change, and when I’m touching myself at night. Lean in? Shut up, feminists! I want to lean back while someone eats the good meal I cooked for them and I rub their feet. I don’t want to do the whole Independent Woman thing, I’ve been doing that awhile now and it kinda sucks. I just want to take care of somebody who’s willing to take care of me. I’m totally kidding about wanting someone to pay my bills. Half kidding…but seriously, can you?

Dialing It Back – Part II

There have been countless times I’ve sat around on the couch with my girls watching tv, and me and six year old will look over at the baby in horror at the sound of her farting bathroom noises. Of course it makes us laugh hysterically—babies have no shame, and in this instance I’m sure it’s a trait that she gets from her mama. If I had more of a sense of shame I wouldn’t be about to post this, and I probably wouldn’t have this blog at all. But, here we are and shit is about to get real.

I wrote a post a few weeks ago about Dialing It Back, referring to my intensity in all things relationships romantic or platonic. I did vow that I would make a conscious effort to do better and I think I’ve managed to do so and wanted to report back on it. I had been “talking” to this guy for several months (I guess it’s called talking, I really don’t know what that means but chose not to ask for more of a description because I was just too embarrassed to do so) and it came to an untimely end—of sorts. I have lots of feelings about it. Ending things wasn’t necessarily what I wanted but I guess part of being an adult is realizing when something just can’t work logistically and getting the hell over it. Also there is the possibility that he just wasn’t that interested in me anymore but I choose to believe it was a circumstantial thing, you know…because pride.


Image from: zrhbzeds.homeip.net

 Anyway, after a blow up on my end and days of silence I received the fateful text from him, ending all things. I do believe it was a misunderstanding between us that may have led to this but I believe a lot of things, it doesn’t mean my thoughts and feelings will be validated in those beliefs. I am OBSESSED with the idea of adequately articulating my point of view and my reasoning but this time, after much internal struggle, I was able to let it go. I said my goodbye, expressed my regret and I DROPPED IT. I know there are women out there with the whole, “Well, fuck him he can kick rocks anyway,” attitude that are unimpressed by this, but that’s just not me. It takes awhile for a guy to even gain my complete interest and once it finally happens I am overly loyal and I fight passionately to make things work because destiny is destiny, right? But the whole concept of dialing it back is for me to grow the hell up and realize that the best-laid plans don’t always come to fruition.

So, I did the opposite of what I would normally do in the situation. I sent the final text to him and then I deleted everything– all the emails, all the texts and I even unfriended him on Facebook. I felt really petty doing it but I know myself. I don’t need an avenue of communication because as long as there is a door I am going to try to pry it open and see what’s behind it. I didn’t want to be tempted to plead my case—which I shouldn’t have to do, and should stop doing in general. I know this seems like it would come from a place of low self-esteem but I’m not entirely sure it does. It’s more like, “OK, he SAYS he doesn’t want to talk to me anymore but I don’t think he realizes just how awesome I am!” Umm, while I am awesome—I should be more aware that not everyone is going to think so. Actually, the evening that all this happened I got an email notification from my favorite blog, Black Girls Are Easy (blackgirlsareeasy.com) and the title of his latest post was called “He Doesn’t Want You, Deal With It”…so even the universe was telling me to chill. I can take the hint.


Image from: runt-of-the-web.com 

I can’t pretend I am completely healed of my intensity. I did write a couple of emo blog posts (as you’ve probably noticed) and some mournful diary entries but only because I have to thoroughly lament and feel everything because I’m so fucking in tune with my emotions now. And I’m not a guy, I can’t just end something, no matter how ephemeral, and turn off my feelings about it. BUT, I haven’t contacted him in order to fight for his affection, or even to just shoot the breeze—I am learning to be more ladylike and to stop being overly assertive. I think I am finally learning to dial it back!


I don’t watch horror movies anymore. My stomach can’t take it. Before anything even happens I feel a terrible knotting in my stomach and I get so anxious. My heart beats fast and I’m just waiting for something gory to happen. I haven’t watched a scary movie in years because of this– however I was struck with this feeling tonight as I watched the news in disbelief as they announced the not guilty verdict for Zimmerman. With a sinking feeling in my heart I picked up my phone and took to social media.

Just as I suspected things were not good. There was so much racism on my screen coming from all sides. So much hate, even more ignorance and a surprising amount of apathy. Even now as I write this, my heart is beating rapidly and I feel so…unsettled. It’s not our world, is it? We came to this country under terrible circumstances and we’re still fighting just to be known as regular ass people. I think of that boy in those final seconds, maybe his eyes wide and his thoughts a sea of confusion. I sit in this apartment, on this couch completely rattled and uncomfortable. This doesn’t feel like home, this doesn’t feel like the freedom we all know and love. Where can black Americans go where we can establish our culture and be free in it without being stereotyped or judged or hunted down like animals because we are no doubt a menace to society simply because of our skin color and our clothing? I didn’t watch the trial–I don’t watch horror movies anymore. My stomach can’t take it.