Currently I'm posting from one of my day job sites in centralish Jersey. This is the place where one of my co-workers (in my department) has brain cancer. My boss (also her boss) always has me coming down here to gauge how much more her job performance may have slipped from the week before. No one wants to confront her about a medical retirement, but everyone feels she isn't who she used to be.
Before I started my meds, being with this woman at this site used to really drive a stake into my heart. She has what my mother had. And this woman will die like my mother did. She knows it. Not about my mother, but about her own mortality. She stays upbeat here at the job, informing me about clients and reporting about their psych appoinments with a big smile and many department in-jokes (read: shop talk). And all the while she's counting down the seconds of her life. Amazing. She has college-age daughters and a husband, and I can't see their reactions to her illness through her eyes because she keeps the atmosphere so cordial and light. So I can only imagine. And then I try not to. And I thank God for my meds, because now I can blog about this and not want to go home and sleep the rest of the day away.
In other news, one of my geek buddies via internet was bemoaning the fact that a woman he was courting recently rejected his overtures for going to the next level. His words, and not mine, was that his downfall was that he was too nice, and he was sick of women who kept proferring the bad boy over the good guy. On Independence Day (how ironic) I replied in this manner;
Your story has been my story ALL. MY. LIFE. :checks watch: Yep. All my life. In Jr. High and High school, I got in with a group of girls because I was madly in love with one of them, but lacked the guts to approach her, and then one of her friends (also a friend of mine) invited me to sit at their table at lunch one day, and I never left. I also STILL never could say out loud, "DeeDee, will you go out with me". So school year after school year, I'd watch her go out with bad boy after bad boy.
This was my own failing...but I don't blame myself. I had a lot of things going against me when I was young. And I do mean textbook, jacked-up, needed child-intervention authority services things. So I couldn't have acted any other way, and I didn't. So I missed out.
And today, I still lack the bad boy gene. I'm Harmless. Mostly. I don't even drink. And I'm wayyy alone.
But you know what I decided a little bit ago?
EFF 'em. That's what I decided.
There are always going to be differences in the world. There are going to be dream marriages like
So I decided to enjoy my singleness. I went to HeroesCon and guess what? I'm going to the SanDiegoCon at the end of the month. I don't need to arrange babysitters or ask permission to spend the budget. I don't need to buy more than one ticket on the plane. And if I meet somebody I like to hang out with, I don't need to worry about anyone else having fun but me.
Now, I know there are benefits to coupledom. I've seen enough representation. And I admire everyone who has been badass enough in their lives to get a mate, and get that freak ON (even you
But I am what I am, and I got what I got.
So EFF 'em. I refuse to be unhappy. REFUSE! I've got just this one life, and by all standards of chronology, it is nearly half over. I'm not spending the rest of it wrapped up in the sh!tty kind of misery that the first half was in. Not doing it.
So I got me prescribed some meds that hacked the edges off my life and I'm now soaking up the sun, baby. Eff the universe if it can't take a joke. I got comics to read, cake with buttercream icing to eat, friends to chat with, places to go, things to see. Ladies, you don't want to get with me? You'd rather somebody pull your hair and call you a bitch to your face? Knock you up with a kid neither of you can afford, and join the harem of Baby Mama Drama? You're welcome to it. Me, I'd rather sleep soundly at night and wake up in the morning with hope instead of dread.
Because as it stands right now, there's a future ahead of me. Anything can happen. Still. But I'm tired of waiting for it. I want to be happy NOW.
So, to reiterate -- EFF it. Eff it with a double-thick condom and spermicide lathered on the outside. Eff it with no-skid combat boots on. Eff it sideways, swinging from a hammock, in a soundproof room with the neighborhood's known screamer squirming underneath.
This is my new motto, and you are heartily invited to use it too;
And I meant it. Still do. And it's working.
And when I look at my co-worker, who is dying right before my eyes, and I see that see refuses to sit home and waste away, or pine about how her family will struggle without her, or any number of depressed things she could do before she shuffles her coil off, I know that I have no excuse.
Life, here I come.