swift kick

it started with me thinking that i could rest my eyes for ten more minutes past my six-in-the-morning-alarm. my eyes ended up resting themselves for two more hours. i shot off the couch at 8:11 to the sound of my higher-up’s thick-accented-from-somewhere-in-the-middlest-of-the-middle-east-voice asking me why i was not at work… “i am so sorry, i am in class but i will leave right now and be there in 45 minutes,” as if being studious would excuse and conceal my idiotic desire for “ten more minutes.”

i almost didn’t put my shoes on. i almost didn’t fix my hair and face in the mirror before heading down the stairs. i almost didn’t open the door and put one foot in the front of the other to walk towards my car. i almost turned around to pack up my possessions and quit. i kid you not, i stood with my hand on the door handle of my car and looked at my keys in my hands and my half-sipped coffee and my stupid reflection that is always morphed by the car’s windows and i started planning my escape. i started planning a new life in a new place, as if uprooting, once again, would make it all better. i started planning my life in wilmington, north carolina and then i started planning my life in bryan, texas and then i texted my mother and told her that i wasn’t going into work because i was already two hours late and that “i would honestly rather just quit because i’m done with all this,”

and she said, “stop being an ass.” 

and it actually hit me. i was being an ass.

so, i drove to work (sat in a lot of traffic, but i made it), got reamed by the higher-up (rather descriptive way of putting it), sweat my lady-lumps off at work (partially to kiss some management-ass) and drove home with sore legs and tired eyes (even chose an awful fast-food joint for dinner because i was too tired to cook).

and how normal does that all sound? very, incredibly normal. i’ve been an ass because i feel like “if it’s the right place for me then everything will go smoothly,” but that’s abnormal. smooth-sailing, ease, stress-free living is a preposterous expectation.

i need to grow up. i need to take it all with a grain of salt. life can be sweet but it’s all very conditional. i need swift kicks every now and then. so thanks to my boss for not telling me that “it’s okay, sweetheart, just don’t let it happen again,” and thank you, mom for calling me an ass.

although my soul is slightly damaged from the realizations of today, i am moving forward.

it was a pleasure sharing my personal reflection with you,

peacin’ out because work tomorrow before the sun even realizes it’s a new day.



One thought on “swift kick

  1. Awesome Blog my dearest one….you are amazingly strong and God loves you!

    The Pathway to Freedom begins when we face the problem(s) without making excuses for it! (them)

    In other words, pull up your boot straps and carry on!

    Love you!

    Bethany Lainhart Bwaze48@gmail.com

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