Showing posts with label own it. Show all posts
Showing posts with label own it. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 20, 2019

The Hustle

I've said it before and I'll say it again: you can probably do way more than your brain will give you credit for. With fibromyalgia came years of not being able to tell the difference between real pain and overactive nerves. With low energy and depression, your body and brain tell you you're not going to make it out of bed. With a racing brain, there is too much to do and not enough time so... you often end up doing nothing at al rather than poking at any of the options.

I've been there: good days and bad. Whether I'm right or I'm wrong, I try to journal these days for myself, to see what I thought I could do, what I actually did and whether I even tried to prove that wrong. Because, rather than shifting the blame, I needed to own my successes and failures. I even needed to look at my overachieving times and give myself permission to take a damn break before I burnt-out.

And I never thought I'd be worth a shit as a waitress. It's a lot to do at once and people can get downright nasty and entitled. But wait. I've done this before in service and retail. Some people will insist you go back to the shelves to get things they can get themselves. Or insist something is broken when they just didn't use it properly. Or they're having a bad day and looking for a scapegoat. While I don't take shit from people who get personal, I also know how to bow out gracefully and make someone else handle things when I've reached my limit. (Which often means I pick up for them once I've collected myself and tackle the floor again.) With waitressing, I watch my section (they seat themselves), bring menus and utensils, get their drink order, get their meal order, drop their ticket at the kitchen, serve food, punch up their ticket, see if they need refills, bus tables, rinse, repeat. It sounds pretty simple, but since a full section has everyone at different stages, I have to read people. Everyone has a tell that says they're waiting for something and if they've waited too long, you see their restlessness. I'm not always a good reader of people but hungry and impatient people telegraph pretty strongly. When it's not busy, I don't have to wait for the cues, but when my section is full, crowds tend to make people transparent. Like those Diner Dash kind of games, they very nearly have those little colorful emoticons above their heads with where they're at.

It was a good first day. I doubt they'll all go so well, but I do have my new girl card for the time being. That has a little mileage with some people. Juggling is not something I'm unfamiliar with. Not the actual juggling. I'm still shit at that. But when it comes to tasks, even when I'm scrambled or confused, I'm not afraid to just stand still for a few seconds and untangle the knots. Some people tie themselves up and never quite recover.

Speaking of juggling though, I'm looking at going back to school for software engineering. Even though I'm not in love with coding, I've always had a knack for it. I hate math but I'm good at it. im betting that even if you don't know it, you're probably really good at things you don't like or haven't tried because you think you won't. I'm not worried about wasting time, which is probably why I take risks that gobble up time. I'm on borrowed time, just like everyone else, but I'm passionate about learning. Even the things I don't like. If I'm repulsed, I'll find ways to do it less or not at all, but if I'm good at it, then I'm willing to encounter problems I don't like when the overall reward is that I'm not exhausting myself. Because doing what I love isn't always the best use of my time either. If crochet or writing or art was financially enough, I'd gladly do nothing else. Yet, realistically, I know that I need to fund each of those things with money they're not bringing in, so the side hustles are about building my kingdom.

Any day, the kingdom can fall. Losing a lot of people and pets I loved in so few years gave me a pretty sound idea of how precious time is. Even if I were given six months to live, I don't see myself adjusting my life as it is. My life is not about investing in forever. I don't make bucket lists because I know that death doesn't mean my conscious soul is clinging to regret. Now, I know I'm going into personal belief territory, but I don't believe that I carry over when my body is done. As a science minded person, I'm certainly open to the possibility that whatever energy animates us is recycled, but the memories and personalities, those are attached to that lump of goo called a brain and the body that makes me me. I don't see karma or souls or ghosts as plausible. I see humans as creatures with very active brains and not a lot of concrete answers. I see that our egos often create concepts of mortality when it's far more likely there is nothing beyond this life. When I sleep, it is the death of who I am. When I don't dream or think or function, I am essentially dead. Does it matter where I go? Can I be afraid that I'll never go back? The only thing I truly fear are concepts like torture and painful precursors to death because until my body gives up, I will experience hell.

Ahem. I don't mean to be morbid, but I live the best life I can because I don't expect another. I am good to others because of the happiness it brings me, more so than fearing any consequences. My morals and stances exist as they do, sometimes against my wishes. I wish I could be less self -sacrificing and more selfish, but the kind of selfish that hurts others pains me more, so even when I'm selfish, I'm mindful. It's because I believe there is nothing else beyond this life that I cherish it, that I do my best to let others live their best life too. I don't care if you're a whore or a prude, a sinner or a saint--as long as you own the consequences and don't purposely do harm, refusing to grow and learn, I am pretty damn tolerant of choices. No one owes it to me to display shame or guilt because of their mistakes because often, especially in today's world, the hurt is just well-bottled and they could very well be wracked with it later.

Most people don't plan their hustle by leaving a trail of destruction behind them. However, often we do have to hurt people we love and care about because they don't see our potential. I spent many years taking advice that was bad for me. I stopped listening to anything that felt wrong and began to take the unconventional paths. I've enjoyed far more personal success through self-belief.

I may not be rich or famous or even find comfort or independence. However, a little discomfort is motivational. A little dependence teaches us to work smartly with others rather than work harder by insisting all struggles must be carried alone.

Like Alanis Morissette sang, what if you won the lottery and died the next day? Sure, it's tragic, but will it matter? Live for today, but hope for tomorrow. If tomorrow never comes, it is what it is. If it does, don't make it about cleaning up yesterday. 

Are people who found a single career luckier? I'm not so sure of that. I believe that the way my life is is also the life best suited for me. I became who I am after surviving my own struggle. This day was brought to me by making it through every one before it. I may not have any part of the American Dream, but I do not regret that I have found my own ways. I'm chasing my dreams. I'm not worried about how it measures up to what people believe it should be. I don't think there's an age limit on humor or love or education or capability. Only I can define that.

And, hell, sometimes I'm not even that good at defining it. However, I am always open to being wrong. Being right never taught me anything.

Monday, September 3, 2018

Hooray! First World Problems

I know. I'm first-world broke, not third-world. I have basic needs covered and then some-- not just food and water (and coffee), not just electricity and sanitary, not just technology and time to chase dreams. But it did take me three weeks to save up Amazon giftcards, small royalties, and a few bucks I had on my dresser for the $40 I needed to use my laptop, scanner on my printer and make sure I don't starve my fish.

Can't say it doesn't wound me that I don't have a reliable income for working. That I can't brag about being a steady entrepreneur or a successful freelancer, that my contributions are still in infancy even though I'm a workaholic towards my goals. It does suck and it isn't a place that people really relate to (never mind that they also can't claim working 15 years in retail hell like I can). Even though I can say I avoid disability and welfare and only have health insurance (at least until someone butchers healthcare again), I don't pay taxes. Not as fun as you think since my city still requires me to file with my zero taxable income (you have to make at least $3000 a year to be taxed-- I don't come close). I don't even get the excuse of being a housewife, just a caretaker of two young boys. Like a parent but without the legal perks. I'm pretty much an au-pair that is related to my charges. 

While I don't like excuses, I don't have neat little labels. I even brag about how well I avoid them and adapt to what I am without resting on any laurels. I don't even know how to classify my health. While my work is sedentary, two hours of every day is dedicated to brisk walking and I mind my diet (while not restricting that either). When something isn't flaring up, it's good/great. When it's bad, I still want to say average/fair because I've known worse.

On a scale, we're always kind of fucked. There will always be someone who has it better and worse. It's actually possible to be grateful it's not worse but wishing for something better. I once considered myself a liberal because of this variable thinking and in the purest form, I am. However, moderate is what I call it since the far left and right have ruined what it means to be conservative and liberal, even for themselves. I haven't gotten narrow-minded, I'm just less tolerant of thought-policing for some perception of the 'greater good'. I'm not intolerant, just not willing to accommodate the power dynamics of complete strangers. 

As a writer, original pronouns best serve their purpose. Throw on some more adjectives and I'm good, but pronouns don't need more distinctions. Stranger, you are that person over there. First world separations are not being inclusive but creating exclusivity, demands that require people to perform mental and social gymnastics to accommodate you. To someone like me, (and to use one of your stupid fucking words) YOU are an ableist. I can't wrap my literal fucking head around it and it's just NOT useful to anyone.

Of course, I can be a dreadfully passive writer at times to form the general example. (Although 'you' is mistaken for direct, it's one of the subtleties I CAN wrap my head around.) 

People should not support your delusions though and it's something I came to understand when battling my own mental issues. If people had always just waved off my bullshit, supported it, I never would have learned how to confront it. Being completely intolerant was hurtful, but there's a difference between what you put your family and friends through and what you expect from strangers. We, as a society, should understand the presence of mental illness but it is still partially the responsibility of the affected to genuinely attempt to adapt to it themselves, not place that burden solely on the world around them.

I know. First world problems are laughable in comparison. They're still a real aspect of the individual and it's not too much to allow each person some sense of dignity and benefit of the doubt without expecting the world to bend over backwards and kiss your ass. I did not save up $40 the smartest and fastest way possible. But I fucking did it and I'm psyched that small things can feel good too. Easier writing, easier scanning, happy fish. One to three things at a time.

And a happy birthday to my 13-year-old nephew Dameon who changes my life daily and someday may change the world. I'm so proud of him.