Things fester. That's one of the biggest problems I have. I let things fester.
Instead of saying something, speaking my mind and standing up for myself, I allow things to be dismissed. I let things "slide down the surface of things." After all, that was kind of the point of this blog: doing things a la Bret and Jay and Donna and Joe and the other Brat Packer Literati... just slide down the surface of things.
People are afraid to merge on highways in LA.
The better you look, the more you see.
This is not an exit.
I no longer know who I am, and I feel like the ghost of a total stranger.
All that being quoted and understood and understandingly standing for anything other than something other than what it really appears to be on the cover... once again, I allowed everything to fester instead of standing up and shouting for a shut up and listen to me while I take my time to speak for myself and stand up for the right things in the grand scheme of all that is meant to be what it is.
I get shit on a lot. All the time, really. I get shit on by the people I work with. I get shit on by too many of my "friends" and too many members of my biological family. I get shit on in more ways than any human being (especially a good one who almost always does the right thing and works hard and pushes for the maximum, personal best in any and everything he does) should ever really be shit on. But what's that old saying from Mr. Fulco, the grandiose and not-all-that-grand chemistry teacher from Caddo Parish Magnet High School: "fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me?" In other words, anyone who gets shit on too many times, and by the same people, probably deserves to receive a little of the shitting sometimes.
I'm edging the true nature of the topic of this post. I lost my shit at work today. I blew up, exploded, erupted. Of course, I did it to the right person, the one who really should be on the receiving end of all my quips and harsh words and outbursts and frustrations; I did it to her instead of to all the other people in my life who have been putting up with the hateful words and chastizing phrases and angry responses because I'm really pissed off at somebody else. And, of course, now I have to explain myself and give rationale for why I said what I said and did what I did. The funny thing is, though, because this has been such a long time coming, I don't feel any degree of remorse. In fact, if I had it all to do or say again, I might do a little editing and inserting and creative remonstration with a little red ink, but only to add a little more that I left out, only to say a little more that needs to be said.
The truth is that I'm a hard worker. I'm one of the hardest working people that I know. And I'm good. I'm faithful. I'm honest. I'm sincere. I care. I don't mind getting sweaty. I'm not afraid of patients. I get along with the staff. I am respected and admired. I really do set a sort of a standard for which others ought to consider living by a little more often. I'm dependable and reliable. I say what I mean, and I mean what I say. Nothing I do is half-assed or negligible. My work is complete and thorough. I think that most people would be hard pressed to find a negative thing to say about my person, my demeanor, my work ethics, or my standards. I'm detail oriented and a self-starter. I can always find things that need to be done rather than finding something to do. I'm well groomed and well spoken. I'm smart and I'm funny. I'm a good guy, a great employee, an excellent co-worker, and a really decent person.
The problem is that I don't really treat myself as all of these things on a regular basis. And when I do that, and when I do that for too long, then I think I open the gate for other people to treat me the same way. This allows for pretention and manipulation and devious, malicious, underhanded and unprofessional behaviors - all are the things on which I will be the first and loudest to call someone out on. I did it (and right after posting that I'd never do anything on par with the exploits of D & D Advertising or Ewing Oil or ColbyCo) exactly as I hadn't intended.
But being right doesn't necessarily mean that I did it the right way. I guess I have a lot to think about while I review and revise the documentation that I'm writing up to support the street-sweeper on my side of the road, so to speak. I believe that if you're doing the right thing, and doing the next thing right, and trying to not hurt anybody in the process, then your actions and your character and your person will defend you constantly without you ever having to utter a word.
Damn, I desperately NEED this vacation. I need a vacation more than anybody else I know. I've been working toward this vacation for almost six years. It may only be for four days, but it's four days that I think are coming at just the right time.
Eight days...? ....eight days?!?! Eight Days Till I Hit the Beach. Twelve days before the potential parting of the painful stimulus (I just kinda re-read through this. I sure have been complaining a lot lately. And I'm not really doing all that much to change things. This section of my blogging. This 101 days that started 23 days ago is supposed to be all about redemption. I took tonight off. I have some stuff to think about and some decisioins to make. I'm right on the verge activating some major alterations... might as well do it all with a big bang, not a whimper).
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