Argh Now. Milk Later
No argh. Okay, argh. I'm trying not to argh. But there have been so many argh-worthy things happening that detaching is more than just a science... it's an argh!!!!! And I'm not even home.
I will stop for a minute and give myself a small pat but nonetheless a pat on the back for leaving my hotel room and going downstairs and sitting in view of the beach to eat my first meal of the day... at 8:30pm. Instead of letting things get to me. I mean, I am in Miami, after all. Miami! I've never been to Miami. That's cool and should be seen as such. Even if I didn't have any time to consume food like a normal person until 8:30pm. Sure, it was partially to save money and partially out of a sense of obligation to sell, sell, sell while at a store. Still... I should have bought the Happy Legs. Biotherm has some stuff called Happy Legs that has menthol and helps swelling go down which retail people often get from standing for so many hours. And which I have right at this very minute. Yes, I should have bought it and bathed in it, actually.
So why am I not in a happy place while in a happy place? Internet. Damn internet... which brings me to email. In which I learn that my car repairs were $600. Which I don't have. Argh. This is usually when fear sets in. Since there is no credit card or funds to cover said repairs. Bankruptcy, yes, it blows. But now, I wonder... what can I do? Give up? Or not give up. There are only two options. Let's face it, no one is saving me. It's not supposed to work that way. I have to save myself. So I better suck it up. I better sell some shit. I better figure out a strategy. A much better one than I've used in the last 5 years. The only problem is. I have no idea what it is. I thought I'd have lots of time to write while here. And yes, I did have some time to have fun. Two nights. But that was for mental health. And stories. The thing is, training and selling and driving kind of wear you out mentally. And fun? That's kind of a recharger. Let's face it, at home? I haven't been on the fun bandwagon.
Anyway, so through another email I found out two friends have left Boscia. Two important people. Today was their last day. One was my friend who has been so good to me who I've known since I was a brownie and the other, her friend who is a doll... And for them, it's a big deal. I'm sure. For me, it's emotional. For so many reasons. Boscia was her company. She built it. I liked contributing to something that she built. To help her company succeed. It makes it all seem worthwhile in some way. Skincare. Seem worthwhile. Whether I can get by or not was of course, always an issue. But that helped it. And it let me travel to fun destinations. Now? Argh.
See, this trip? It will pay my rent. That's it. Rent. And for two weeks...? $37. Yes. I plan to sell things. Before I leave again, I will sell things. Just not my desk. I like my desk. I write at my desk. Although when I get home, I'm going to write out of the house. I think I'm more stimulated when I'm not home alone feeling lonely.
So while staring at the ocean and eating food, I talked to my friend at home who is having a hard time. Here's the thing. I love her and don't know any more if what I say helps. I would like to help. I would like her to be happy. Love that for her. But I don't know if I'm the best support system. I try. I listen. I care. I give advice. But I am, after all, me. And if I knew what I was talking about I would probably have what I want. As one of my other friends said, who's your up person? Meaning that all of us are kind of in the same place. So are we all really helping each other?
Then... the guy I met here was pouting about not seeing me. Which was kind of nice... At first. And then he started acting wishy-washy-- like if I didn't want to see him, I didn't have to and so forth and so on just to let him know. Then it turned into some random conversation about some girl he used to date and his confidence level and suddenly, I was talking him through something. He then asked me out and proceeded to ask me when I wanted to go out and where I wanted to go and you know... to give him a plan. Me? I would like to hear a plan. A man asks you out. He's supposed to have a plan. I told him that. I don't know where I am-- geographically. (He doesn't have to know about the rest of it). And it would be nice to have someone make a plan for me. A small bit of effort. Yes, even a guy I may never see again. Not hear about some other girl... Argh.
And. The clincher? I ate bread. I NEVER eat bread.
I will stop for a minute and give myself a small pat but nonetheless a pat on the back for leaving my hotel room and going downstairs and sitting in view of the beach to eat my first meal of the day... at 8:30pm. Instead of letting things get to me. I mean, I am in Miami, after all. Miami! I've never been to Miami. That's cool and should be seen as such. Even if I didn't have any time to consume food like a normal person until 8:30pm. Sure, it was partially to save money and partially out of a sense of obligation to sell, sell, sell while at a store. Still... I should have bought the Happy Legs. Biotherm has some stuff called Happy Legs that has menthol and helps swelling go down which retail people often get from standing for so many hours. And which I have right at this very minute. Yes, I should have bought it and bathed in it, actually.
So why am I not in a happy place while in a happy place? Internet. Damn internet... which brings me to email. In which I learn that my car repairs were $600. Which I don't have. Argh. This is usually when fear sets in. Since there is no credit card or funds to cover said repairs. Bankruptcy, yes, it blows. But now, I wonder... what can I do? Give up? Or not give up. There are only two options. Let's face it, no one is saving me. It's not supposed to work that way. I have to save myself. So I better suck it up. I better sell some shit. I better figure out a strategy. A much better one than I've used in the last 5 years. The only problem is. I have no idea what it is. I thought I'd have lots of time to write while here. And yes, I did have some time to have fun. Two nights. But that was for mental health. And stories. The thing is, training and selling and driving kind of wear you out mentally. And fun? That's kind of a recharger. Let's face it, at home? I haven't been on the fun bandwagon.
Anyway, so through another email I found out two friends have left Boscia. Two important people. Today was their last day. One was my friend who has been so good to me who I've known since I was a brownie and the other, her friend who is a doll... And for them, it's a big deal. I'm sure. For me, it's emotional. For so many reasons. Boscia was her company. She built it. I liked contributing to something that she built. To help her company succeed. It makes it all seem worthwhile in some way. Skincare. Seem worthwhile. Whether I can get by or not was of course, always an issue. But that helped it. And it let me travel to fun destinations. Now? Argh.
See, this trip? It will pay my rent. That's it. Rent. And for two weeks...? $37. Yes. I plan to sell things. Before I leave again, I will sell things. Just not my desk. I like my desk. I write at my desk. Although when I get home, I'm going to write out of the house. I think I'm more stimulated when I'm not home alone feeling lonely.
So while staring at the ocean and eating food, I talked to my friend at home who is having a hard time. Here's the thing. I love her and don't know any more if what I say helps. I would like to help. I would like her to be happy. Love that for her. But I don't know if I'm the best support system. I try. I listen. I care. I give advice. But I am, after all, me. And if I knew what I was talking about I would probably have what I want. As one of my other friends said, who's your up person? Meaning that all of us are kind of in the same place. So are we all really helping each other?
Then... the guy I met here was pouting about not seeing me. Which was kind of nice... At first. And then he started acting wishy-washy-- like if I didn't want to see him, I didn't have to and so forth and so on just to let him know. Then it turned into some random conversation about some girl he used to date and his confidence level and suddenly, I was talking him through something. He then asked me out and proceeded to ask me when I wanted to go out and where I wanted to go and you know... to give him a plan. Me? I would like to hear a plan. A man asks you out. He's supposed to have a plan. I told him that. I don't know where I am-- geographically. (He doesn't have to know about the rest of it). And it would be nice to have someone make a plan for me. A small bit of effort. Yes, even a guy I may never see again. Not hear about some other girl... Argh.
And. The clincher? I ate bread. I NEVER eat bread.
posted by jodypwrites | 7:38 PM
1 Comments:
I don't know about you but that wishy-washy whiner you met there is starting to creep ME out.
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