Bent Words

Bent Words

June 05, 2014

Iím going to piss myself off with this reference but it could not be more applicable.

Let it go.

I am far too hard on myself and it is time for a change. All these charges I bring against myself are nothing in the grand scheme of things. And while I do have issues coping at present, itís about time I try a little harder to correct these things myself rather than relying on other, supposedly professional people, to assist me.

Mostly because they all suck.

My appointment yesterday was hardly worth the dreary drive to Brookfield. Sitting in the waiting room, an older woman with a walker BURSTS out of an office door and exclaims boisterously to all, ďWell how are you all doing, then?!Ē I just lifted my magazine a little higher to cover my surprised expression. ďLovely,Ē I thought. Iím surrounding by lunatics. This is not where Iím supposed to be.


I rise from my chair, somewhat relieved to be excusing myself from the company I was keeping in the waiting room, only to be greeted by a short, fat woman with dramatically long, fake eyelashes. I look at her as she introduces herself Ė a Spanish name accompanied by a very Caucasian face Ė but all I can see are the large, fluttering, black wings pasted to her eyelids.

I sit down in her office which looks more like a 90-year-oldís living room with faded blue sofas and sadly matching chairs. Thereís that ugly three tiered lamp Iím sure my babysitter had in her house sitting on one end of the office and a small, unassuming desk at the other.

Itís like a joke that Iím sitting here with this lady whose every blink I cannot help but notice. Who could possibly take this scene seriously? How does she not know how ridiculous she looks? Did she lose her eyelashes to a traumatic fire in her youth? Doesnít she think she went overboard with the length and thickness of her lashes? Could she not have found something a little more natural?

All I can recall from the minutes that slowly tick by Ė besides the giant wings attached to her face Ė is that I have been recommended to split my medicationís dosing in half during the day.

Good thing I wasted half my afternoon on THAT diagnosis! I wanted to scold myself for not coming up with this bit of brilliance myself but if I had been a little less wrapped up in my own calamity, I probably would have been able to think though it a little more clearly.

Luckily this little Circus visit has taught me something, however.

Iíve had some difficulty coping with all the dramatic life changes Iíve incurred over a very short period of time but these are all things that I can handle and things which I truly want to handle. And they will be resolved over time but thereís no one else in this world who is going to affect more change than me.

I just have to let the bullshit go.

The fact that I set my oven timer for 60 hours instead of 60 minutesÖ.

Itís laughable (since my husband caught it) and at least I know the lasagna will definitely be done by then.

My husband ran over the garden hose with the lawn mower because I forgot to reel the sucker back in, I fed coffee grounds to a not-so-inconspicuous-looking weed, I put my child on the potty after she had already pooped, I entered the wrong station code for a supplemental mailing at work and neglected to don socks prior to dashing out the door for work yesterday morning.

I used to be able to laugh at these things. These ridiculous antics of mine. Like a showcase of brain farts, making for a few good stories to tell tomorrow, Iíd contribute some bonehead moves to the excellence of my intentions throughout the day. And I need to return to that mindset. I need to calm the F down and see things as they truly are Ė bonehead moves made by a well-meaning MOM whose only purpose in life is to live is to have a good time with those whom I truly love.

No one is keeping score (save for myself). There is not a mom report card out there that comes back to our family and states Iíve received an A in Love and an F in Cookie Baking 101. I am not rated for my lack of hose reeling, herb growing or bath giving. And since Iím truly trying to do my very best, that is all that matters.

Iím not going to make the grade when it comes to plating veggies for my child or weeding the ďgardenĒ Iím growing but who the F cares? I do so many other things so entirely well and with my whole heart that thatís okay!

I have a husband who goes grocery shopping so I donít have to. Who fills my tank so I donít need to add another thing to my list in the morning. I have a daughter who thinks the world of me and would rather cuddle up next to me than watch me struggle over the perfectly cooked meal at night. I have a gorgeous house with a big, beautiful yard and just need to buy a new hose nozzle.

I am nearly amazing.

And all that other crap?

I just need to let it go.

Or else all I am doing is giving control to some batshit crazy short lady with big fake eyelashes whose real calling is obviously missing from the circus community.

Written at 5:59 a.m.