Are You Stressed?

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I am a little upset with my father at the moment. I sat in two hours of traffic to travel across town to his house to pick up my two little girls after school—and I was fine with that. Tons of driving in traffic, never having money and scrambling for time is a part of my daily routine and who I am as a single mother. I was standing in his kitchen, thinking nothing of this when my Dad wanders into the room and asks, “…Are you stressed?” My immediate response was to laugh. Seriously, what a stupid question. Isn’t everyone stressed?

 

I didn’t really get the chance to adequately respond before my two girls interjected and proceeded to tell him about why they were stressed in school. At the time, their chatter was enough to take my mind off the subject at hand, but lately it has been coming back to haunt me. I lay awake at 3am last night pondering the question and what my answer means for how I live my life. Life and living is stressful—EVERYONE is stressed! Aren’t they…? I mean, are there people in this world who are at peace and living stress free lives? I had no idea.

 

Something about yesterday just hit me the wrong way. I hadn’t slept well the night before, a colleague of mine is switching departments so I am mentally preparing to take on a larger workload, all while managing to promote, post and scramble to find daycare for upcoming spoken word gigs. At any given moment I am at my wit’s end—and this is how I live my life every day. Stress is life! There is no loophole, there is no end; it’s just the way it IS. For me, stress can sometimes lead to depression. I try to allow myself to indulge a bit but to snap out of it before I am sucked into a vortex of listlessness and despair. I have goals that I want to accomplish and it is my understanding that stress is a part of the program.

 

I suppose in all of my ambitious life-mapping, I never mapped out a destination. I see my roads full of the same old obstacles of working too hard to impress others to book gigs, financial struggle, rushing home from work to make dinner, braid hair, check homework, micromanage bathtime, etc. It has not occurred to me before this that I don’t have to live my life this way. But what does a stress-free life look like? It still sounds like a fable, I just don’t know. Is the desire to live worry free asking too much out of life, or is this just the price of living? Am I stressed? ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY! I am ready to pull my hair out! I am tired and always worried about money. I am sick of driving and sitting in traffic—of having to cram every hour of the day with SOMEthing in order to accomplish all of my goals, of contemplating whether I actually should give up on my writing aspirations so I’ll have more time to be with my girls, my man, to workout, to BREATHE! This endless grind is wearing on my health and self-esteem.

 

I need to add a destination to my life map, that doesn’t have me on the pathway to a nervous breakdown. A stress-free life… I still don’t know why that possibility has never once occurred to me…

No Cuss No Fuss

Yeah, so I’m still in the valley of decision about whether or not to curse on this blog. This seems like the STUPIDEST thing to talk about but it is a big issue for me. I’m going through my whole “settling into my true self” thing, and I gotta be honest: My true self has a foul mouth. I mean, FUCK! I just need to say it to get the aggression out. The crazy in me sometimes wants to just ram my car into the back of the person who just cut me off, or punch a slow-walking old lady in the face. I don’t, because jail time, social norms and blah blah blah– so can I PLEASE.JUST.CURSE? 

If I had a dollar for every time a guy told me that cursing is unattractive– well, I would still be pretty poor but I would have several more dollars. Can someone tell me why it’s so unbecoming?? I’m a single mother of two, I’m so fucking tired ALL of the time, can I just have the one thing?!! And on top of that, I still make an effort to dress nice, to do my hair, shower, exerc– ok, I’m not exercising as often as I should but you get the point. I used to wake up at 5:45 every morning, busting my ass to get two kids ready and myself out the door to commence one of the longest commutes in history. I almost killed about four people everyday trying to put on some fucking concealer and eyeliner while driving just to look at least half awake for the day. Life is shitty sometimes, I’m always tired– and YES, I said that again– but you mean to tell me that I can’t curse about it because it’s UNLADYLIKE?? I popped two kids out of my vagina, that doesn’t give me a little street cred among the ladies???

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And I’m good, you know? I curb the urge when I’m around my non-cursing friends. I just feel like I’m going to be stoned to death if I dare say “dammit” when I bang my toe yet again on some shit that’s ALWAYS on my messy livingroom floor. My six year old is the FCC and bad language vigilante. “Aww, Mommy! You said a bad word…”  My response, “Fuck! I did it again!”  So, I can’t even curse in my own home, I just want to be able to pop some shit loose on my very own blog for the love of someone’s love who is worthy to go into this sentence!

Then I think of my parents…and the respectable people who may relate to my basic views that simply just can’t stand the thought, sound or sight foul language. I think to myself, “Shit, I can’t talk like that, not even on my own blog.” So, for the sake of making blog life (not at all related to thug life) more palatable I will curb the cursing as much as possible. But be warned– I need the F word in my life. If I’m talking to you and accidentally let one fly don’t be obnoxious and comment on it. I’m trying 😦

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Image from: persephonemagazine.com