Sunday, November 21, 2010

Take it or...take it?

Ever feel like you deserve more? I know, I know, does a bear sh*t in the woods, Nichole? I get it. But in all seriousness, and maybe I should've had this thought much earlier in the game, but I am painfully immature (as my friends have reminded me) and see why it took this long.

Now, back to the bit about deserving more. I'm not talking necessarily about more "stuff" in the material sense of the word. Although, hell, who wouldn't want an iPhone (yes, I still have a flip phone that has been dropped in 3 water features and that I have to scroll through each letter button to send a f*cking text). Or a pair of SmartWool socks with owls on them? Or even a full tank of gas (or fuel oil)? These seem like simple requests but I assure you, they are not easy to obtain and really, life can and does go on without them. But I'm not even talking about this stuff (I REALLY want the socks, though, to anyone who's looking for a great gift idea for their crazy journalist friend).

And, frankly, I do deserve to be paid more. I will shame myself or my employer by setting up that number; just think new teacher pay but without any bennies. But again, this is tolerable, it is the way of the world, I do love my job and frankly, right now, I feel pretty goddamn lucky to have a job that guarantees basic food on the table and shelter from the cold.

So, blah, blah, I am thankful, I get it, but I can't help feeling like I deserve more. I guess I need to figure out what this "more" is, but I have a vague sense that it refers to my tendency to give up my rare moments of freedom (read: being ALONE in my apartment, sipping ALONE at a cup of coffee, sharing or not sharing my bed with whoever I want, not sharing my one-ounce sliver of specialty cheese, not being rushed in the shower, just doing MY dishes that I dirtied...).

Essentially, I feel like I'm doing something wrong when I need to say, "Nope, sorry, not today. I'm too into myself today."

Sounds awful, doesn't it? But that's how I feel. Obviously, I can't say this to my own children. They'd think I was kidding anyway, but there are days when I don't want to have to give a f*ck about anyone else's feelings but my own. There are days, truly, when I just don't care. Or rather, I don't want to care. I am waiting for the big moment when I wake up one morning and languish in bed because I WANT to be there. Because there is no one on this earth I'd rather be with but myself in that moment. Reading, or just daydreaming...

It is a foreign world out there in that land of "me." I am envious of its inhabitants.

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