When The Waves Come

Inside my fortress of sand,

the waves come in at their own command.

Inside my fortress of wood,

The waves wear away all that is good.

Inside my fortress of metal,

The waves rust and eventually I crumble.

Inside my fortress of stone

all is fine, but I'm all alone.

- Me

" I hate Sundays. Sundays mean I am heart broken. I have to leave you on those days." - My daughter.

Two and a half years ago we moved to North Carolina and brought my daughter with us.
Two years ago I had a tubal pregnancy and had to have it removed.

The resulting hormonal upset in combination with living with my in-laws, trying to raise two children and mourn another, trying to go to school full time ended in me taking four days and checking into the hospital. The next few months of medications and diagnosis resulted in a PMDD diagnosis but not before daughter went back to live with her dad. We both wanted stability for her.

The result was a serious walloping to my self-esteem. This spurred me to make myself someone my daughter could respect, not resent when she starts asking questions as a teenager. The last two years have been filled with growth, stability and a better job.

I've been working really hard lately. I begged for a promotion at work and busted my butt when it became available. I was determined to show that I'm capable of being the person I want to be.

I talked to her this afternoon and she was beautiful and confident and preoccupied with her life. I couldn't help wishing I knew her little friends and could hear her stories after school. She wanted to stay with her dad for a birthday party at a friend's house.

I guess my point is, I miss my baby but I'm glad she is happy.

I just had to get that into the universe.

We Are the Music Makers

We are the music makers,

And we are the dreamers of dreams,

Wandering by lone sea-breakers,

And sitting by desolate streams;—

World-losers and world-forsakers,

On whom the pale moon gleams:

Yet we are the movers and shakers

Of the world for ever, it seems.

-Arthur O'Shaughnessy

What is it to be satisfied?

To find peace with one's surroundings, finances and general life circumstances?

Is the monotony of day to day life acceptable to most people?

I work with dreamers. Dreamers who love dreamers. Dreamers who create. 

I feel at home with these people. 

At the same time I feel like we're all in the place where we're not quite satisfied. 

My husband would be entirely satisfied to do the exact same thing everyday.

Camp on the weekends. Maybe live in a cabin with zero electricity. 

I can't decide what it is that makes me want more. 

I love my kids. I love my life... but I've got an itch. 

What do you do when you get this way?

Lately I've been pushing my passion and energy into my work. 

My therapist says it's part of my personality. I have to stay busy. 

He's currently on a 5 week sailing trip from San Diego to Hawaii so he can't really talk. 

A ship wasn't built for sitting in a dock I suppose. 

Growth and change is part of life. 

Dissatisfaction spurs action. 

I will think about this. 

Why I Haven't Been Writing..

I had lunch with a few friends two days ago who encouraged me to be myself unabashedly and from that conversation came this blog post.

I often wonder if writers are all just narcissists, myself included.

This is the third time a friend has called me a "writer" and the third time I have scoffed.
My new therapist called me, "Incredibly self-aware," the first time that I met him.
I think this was a hint. 

Part of my not writing has been that I have stayed off of my ADHD medicine for over a year now.
It wasn't necessary for working in retail and it typically made me feel like crap.

I tend to fill my life (or at least my brain)with a lot of extras due to a need for constant stimulation. I over analyze life situations and dissect them in order to process them fully. Coping mechanism. *shrug*
Eventually I get overstimulated and need to sort it out.

In response to this reality that I live in, I started seeing a therapist again.
It's probably going to be a thing I have to do on and off for the rest of my life.

Dr. H PHD. He's pretty cool.

I went to Dr. H because I think that my standards for myself and others need to be evaluated. This idea is difficult for me, because I think I'm pretty damn empathetic. I'm beginning to realize that with the general populous I am actually a really nice person....

But.

With the people closest to me, I tend to be an overly analytical drag who can't figure out what she wants in life. I also tend to assume that everyone has these standards for themselves. This leads to copious amounts of disappointment. This is also true in regards to my expectations for myself.

I wrote this about 6 months ago when I was in a rough place but I wanted to share it because I felt it was fitting. :

Potential

Potential is like "raindrops are falling on my head.."

Potential I can't quite seem to grasp. 

Trying to hold onto it but it slips

Right through my large soft hands. 

I am drowning in lost potential.

The expressions when I get out of my slightly dented car with my two children from different men.

"She never has been a great driver."

"She always has had a bit of a sweet tooth."

"She had so much potential."

REWIND

New hope. 

Deep breath as I enter my classes my first day back at college. 

Post first husband I have finally started to feel that potential again. 

"You are so intelligent, so much potential"

"Top of your class.."

Smart. Intelligent. Independent.

I need no man.

I trust no man. 

I will finally be enough for myself.

I have so much potential.

4 Months later.

A mini skirt drives off of the ferry. 

Home.

Stumbling up the steps

Closing the door to the bathroom.

Sobbing as the water pours over her head. 

"I shouldn't have worn that mini-skirt."

Potential. Washed away with her G.P.A

Potential.

Potential.

Potential.

Potential. 

If you say a word enough times it begins to lose it's meaning. 

Potential is like "raindrops are falling on my head.."

Potential I can't quite seem to grasp. 

Trying to hold onto it but it slips

Right through my large soft hands. 

I am drowning in lost potential.

I want to make it known that I am currently not in the same place as I was when I wrote this, but I thought I would share it so that you might have a better understanding. 

I'm conflicted about even sharing posts like this just like I'm conflicted about singing in public. I love to sing but I feel like doing it in public is forcing yourself on people. I suppose, if folks don't want to hear it... they don't have to read. 

I won't promise to write this time. I'll just do what I can.. and be okay with that.

 I'm a work in progress. 

Rupi Kaur and Instagramming McDonald's

No one takes a picture of their 2,000 calorie cheeseburger

and fries from McDonalds and puts it on Instagram.

 

I watched a video today of a poet who is receiving world wide recognition for a rather shocking photo series on menstrual blood that she did recently with her sister. Her name is Rupi Kaur and she writes about the things that most people don't want to talk about. At first she seemed a little bit... much.. but as she spoke, her honesty sparked something inside of me.

 

Rupi explained that sometimes, before she shares a poem or photo online, that she shows and talks to her sister or friends about it, wondering if it's too much or if it would be appropriate. Often, her sister tells her that if she's afraid to post it, she should definitely post it. That making people uncomfortable is ok. This concept was tremendous for me.

 

Many of you are close friends and family, or nosy. It doesn't matter which category you fall under, I post it online. You're welcome here :)

I was speaking to my friend online last year after a few rather transparent blog posts, and she said, "People just aren't used to this level of honesty... they don't know what to do with it." I felt guilty at the time. Now, I'm beginning to feel as if I should have owned my reality a bit more.

 

Most of us don't wear the negativity in our lives like a t-shirt.

The girls that post all of their drama on Facebook typically are labeled as attentions seekers,

 wherein people ignore them. This cycle is rather counter productive in my opinion...

 

If you were honest about your reality, what would your Facebook/T-shirt say?

"I'm exhausted. I haven't slept since my 2 year old was born..."

"I don't understand why he doesn't want me anymore.."

"She never wants sex... she must not care about my needs.."
"My father never sees me."

"My boss doesn't respect me."

 

"This is slavery, not to speak one's thought.."-Euripides

 

Some of you cringe when you think of posting something like this, and sometimes.. you're right.

 

Sharing something personal about your relationship without your partner's consent is unwise.

 

but...Sometimes being transparent about your problems can allow people to speak truth to your fears.

It allows people to reach out.
If people don't know you need help, they can't help you.

 

"Oh honey! I didn't know you haven't been sleeping! Let me come over and watch the baby so you can nap..."
 

"Relationships are difficult but communication would help, have you guys talked about this..?"
 

"Oh, my husband and I had the same problem... I know this great therapist.."

 

Honesty builds trust and relationships.

It relieves some of your burden and allows others to try and help you carry it.

Don't be ashamed of your reality. We're all living our own.

 

"Yawns are not the only infectious things out there besides germs.

Giggles can spread from person to person, so can blushing.

But maybe the most powerful, infectious thing, is the act of speaking the truth."

- Vera Nazarian

 

 

 

Throw A Bunch Of Crap In a Pan and Call It Dinner

I am not a food blogger.

I don't take ridiculously professional photos.

That being said, tonight's blog is a one pan chicken recipe that I make regularly.

 

My husband and I both work full time.

If dinner has too many steps, I'll often opt for Ramen and sandwiches.

Andy's a big man and needs big man dinners, so I often cook meals with dishes in mind that will fill him up. This usually does that.

 

Without further ado, My One-Dish Baked Chicken

 

You will need:

Some chicken.

We like to use drumsticks. The dark meat tends to dry out less quickly and you can get an 8-10 pack for around 3 dollars at Aldi or your local grocery store.

1 can Cream of Chicken Soup.

1 Onion- sliced into rings

1 cup of water

Salt

Pepper

Italian Seasoning

mushrooms or any additional veggies if desired.

First grab a rather large glass, and your large bottle of wine. Drink a large portion of said wine, and set to work.

 

Preheat your oven to 350ish.

 

• Spray a 13x9 pan or a reasonable amount of olive oil in the bottom and turn it around until the pan is coated.
• Correlate the pieces of chicken like :  [PdPd]<= A pan of chicken.
• Evenly distribute the cream of chicken soup across the chicken.
• Fill the can up with water and dump it into the pan. This gets the excess out of the can and simultaneously saves you dishes.

Drink more wine.

 

Layer the onion across the top along with any other veggies you would like to add. We like mushrooms, peppers and zucchini.

Evenly distribute salt, pepper and Italian seasoning across everything.

Place in the oven for about 45 minutes. Pull out, check your chicken, flip and season this side lightly.

 

Drink...er.. more wine or something.

 Place your chicken back in the oven for another 30-45 minutes, or until the chicken is no longer pink inside. If you're faithfully following instructions and the wine is beginning to get to you, have your significant other check your chicken too. Just in case.

We ate ours with a large serving of broccoli but anything green will do.

 



The finished product.

Enjoy!

My Warning Label

Most blogging experts say that in order to become successful within this industry, one's goal is to blog daily, or set a strict schedule so that you don't become lazy or inactive.

I have decided to give this thing a go and see what becomes of it. I've been avoiding this outlet out of fear. I'm not all that good at receiving public criticism, but I've been asked several times why I don't blog anymore. It made me wonder if I should at least try.

Some of the negative posts from last year have been removed, partially out of embarrassment, and partially because when I re-read them they take me to a place of negativity that I really try to stay away from. If you've been diagnosed with depression, you may know how easy it is for one to read a sad blog, have a bad day, fight with your spouse and feel those weird pulls in your stomach start to nag at you.

 I'm not saying that depression is a choice.

 I'm saying. that who one surrounds themselves with is a choice. Your body's natural reaction to immense stress or negativity should never be something to be overwhelmed by, simply aware of.

Ideally, I will be blogging a few times a week. Any constructive criticism is welcome in an email or a Facebook message but cruel, public negativity isn't welcomed here.
It is my goal to be not only entertaining but honest, exploring and shaping my ideas in a public forum. In a way, it holds me accountable.  I can re-read my posts and recognize any changes that need to be made to my perspective or thought patterns.

Please keep in mind that we are each on a journey. We all experience different pitfalls along the way and deal with them in the ways with which we feel we are capable.
All things written here are opinion not fact.
Treat them as such.

Retail Etiquette

These days I can be found floating amidst the aisles of your local office supply retailer. I insure the auto-ordering system has a correct idea of what items we do and do not have in stock. If we don't have an item anymore, I tell our computer system where it went. If the item you're looking for isn't in stock, its ultimately my fault barring warehouse complications.   At Wal-Mart my job was done by multiple departments ie: receiving, claims, inventory, stockers. 30+ people.
Our store is a significantly smaller scale, so.. *flex*...

Our Company is big on customer service and doesn't have an after hours stocking team, so I spend a lot of time on the floor, offering assistance to customers. Until working for my company I had no idea that if I were to go into a store looking for a blue 2in binder, I could be greeted with 4-5 variations of the exact same thing.

Standard
Standard with Label space
Standard with Laminated pocket on the sides
Heavy duty-standard
Heavy duty with pockets
Better Binder- rubber lined binder

With so many choices, many of the folks in our little country city are bewildered and find me, stocking blue Uniball gel rollerball pens with stylus- no these are the one's without the stylus sorry.. damnit now I have to do it all over. Their bewilderment plain on their face, I say with a smile, "Hello! Is there anything I can help you find?"

Some are reasonable and simply reply, "I can't figure out the difference between these..."
Some are perky and make a joke about their age and society moving forward without them.
Some are angry. They've found their item but we're out of stock and want to know why I-personally threw away their cable they decided to purchase at an office supply store instead of Best Buy.
Some blame their confusion on the company. "You people" have changed the store around and now they can't find anything.

A majority of the time, I respond with an empathetic remorse, mirroring their own disdain and expressing my frustration with the circumstances and offer to solve their problem.

Although, occasionally the initial distain and remorse gets old. This customer wants me to FIND them their product. I find it online and explain that the shipping is staying 4-5 business days but the shipping will be free and everything should be dandy.

Everything is not dandy.
The customer then wants to know why on earth anyone would make him wait 4-5 business days. At this point they're interrupting my every remorseful suggestion. He "I ain't... don't wanna" go to Wal-Mart or Best Buy. They want their cord NOW, why won't I make it go faster? Didn't find it at the one store he looked at and now we don't have it either.
I make a light hearted joke now that everyone's out to get him today, huh?
He didn't like that.
My supervisor, who had been present for the entire conversation,  pulled me aside later and said, "Sarah, we need to talk about earlier.."
I apologized and said I knew what I had done wrong and it was unprofessional.
He stopped me mid-sentence and said, "No, Your mistake was assuming that he had a sense of humor."

I think I live that way. I assume that everyone has good vibes. When they're poop heads I'm deeply bothered and must analyze it vocally in detail. Why would someone be so awful? There has to be a reason. Maybe, some folks are just having a bad day.
Maybe some folks are just jerks.
Here's to not being a jerk and trying to spread positive juju.
xoxo