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The Talking Cure . . .

I lost my mom a few months ago. I am an only child and it took me until recently to allow my mom to be who she was and to not resent her for it. She never quite fit in and her legacy is alive and well in me.

Though it has seemed like I have bounced back — especially to folks who stop me in the hall daily to all-but-try-to talk me to tears — but at night, the reality of her “never coming back” sets in and I cry myself to sleep.

Last night, I began my nightly ritual, but started talking about it. I talked. I cried. Then, I began to listen. Then, I cried. This time, though, it was a cleansing cry. A cry that left me at peace with this new reality and allowed me to let her go.

Her body was failing, but her mind was just as sharp as ever. Her every thoughts were about doing things better and becoming better. It is in her honor that I am pursuing this latter part of my life. I have decided on some very simple guidelines for living the rest of the years that I am blessed with.

First of all, I am trying not to do anything that I do not like to do — even if there are things I “can” do — things like secretarial duties and spending time in places where I feel uncomfortable (like break rooms and going to lunch, when I really need time to be alone). I try to squash anybody’s negativity toward me — either by not spending any more time than necessary with them or by trying to re-direct their negativity into finding solutions that lead to happiness.

Having said all that, I have been confronted with the idea that the career that I have been in for 10 years now — my 4th career change — may need to be swapped out for something that makes me happier. (I had originally planned to make this into, at least, a 20-year career, but . . . ) I have come to realize some additional things about what I want out of life and many of the “features” of this career are in conflict with my new philosophy of quality of life. I am SO re-evaluating whether or not to try something new yet again.

I have already started researching a former career that I had no faith in my ability to succeed in. (I have just seem La La Land and am convinced more than ever that I can.) Since I am in a new place in my skills of diplomacy and confidence, I think that I can take up that mantel again, but actually be able to make money while doing it — a win-win scenario.

What’s funny is that the duties that used to cause me to most stress are now the ones that I look forward to doing; and I think it’s because I think I can, at least, replace my salary doing it.

What’s so different now is that I want to save as much as possible to be able to carry the burden of doing my own business/be my own boss. That means that every extra bit of money — taxes, bonuses, etc. — I treasure and do not want to squander. — That’s the good part.

The bad part is that I have gained back the weight that I had lost during the summer, stressing about this COMPLETE paradigm change. — Up until about 2 months ago, I had plans to continue doing what I’ve been doing forever (along-side of that other thing that I do when I am not at work). — After being reprimanded for not being the absolute best at what I do by my slacker of a boss — who is “Donald Trump, small-version”— I realize that I deserve more and can do more, if I would only believe and continue to do what it is that I love. (Why should I subject myself to critiques by someone who will readily admit that he was no good at the job that I am doing, but is in a position to decide my future at “his” establishment?!) I realize that I need a little more control over my own economic possibilities. This idea has emboldened me to step out on faith — and on good looks and on knowing how to talk to people and on having a creative vision that is marketable — to take it directly to consumers to see if I can make the rather small amount that I make from “peddling my wares.”

My faith also comes from the age-old idea that, if I do my research, trust my instincts, and put in a lot of hard work, good things will happen. If they happen related to making money independently, then I can “fire” my stupid fucking boss! — There, I’ve said it. He’s such a complete idiot! But he’s in charge of whether or not I keep my job. What kind of fucked up world is this?!

I, seriously, know that I must change this relationship and it is my prime goal — every single day — to do something toward making this economic hustle reformation happen for myself and my family. “If Mama’s happy, then the family is happy.” — After that, I can start changing Daddy’s economic paradigm….

One fucking goal at a time. Every day is a new chance to start again….

— I miss you, Mom. But your independent spirit lives on…



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