Nothing more to say (All Screamed Out)

I hate being little and young looking. I am literally the same size I was when I got my driver’s license and that is not a good thing unless you want to make looking young your career, and I don't see anyone coming to sign me a contract for The Hills, Brooklyn edition. I wish I was bigger and scarier but I am not. I am vulnerable all the time. You may not understand that or see that but it is true. I fight hard to get things done, not because I like to but because I have no other choice if I want to get ahead. Because my whole life I can count on one hand the number of people that has ever taken me seriously.

Very few people know with certainty that I mean what I say and that I do what I say I am gong to do. I am a serious person. When I have ideas I move on them and that is how things get done. I am seriously not a 14 year old girl. But the only time in my life I can remember a really good compliment is when someone told me that I was “a force”. No one refers to me as a force. If anything people say I “have good ideas” or I “do a lot”, "read a lot" but a force is a thing of nature that cannot be denied. That is a compelling irresistible call to action. Most of the time, people take me for a 14 year old girl who still has “so much to learn” and is easy to scam and the horrible part is that I always get scammed, because I do not realize I am not being taken seriously until it is too late. Call it a heroic flaw if you will. Somehow I have not learned how to take command of a situation even after all this time. I blame it on my unfettered trust in the goodness of mankind.

People take advantage of me to know end, because when I fight back, I get ignored. I tell a deadbeat tenant to get out of my house and I am ignored until I actually file the paperwork and the sheriff locks the doors. I tell my boss she is being inequitable in the distribution of the workload and my she schedules a planning meeting for how I can travel 100 more miles per week to further benefit the company. I get tired of fighting because everyone I interact with refuses to take me seriously.

I am tired of this. I want to scream and would . . . all the time if I thought someone would hear me. (It is the tree in the forest after all). But apparently my voice doesn’t count. It’s hard to feel big when everyone makes you feel so small. That’s what I mean when I say life is hard enough, because all of this getting walked on starts to wear on a person and makes it real hard to see the point in fighting at all. Would it not be easier to give up and not complain and just take the lumps that life dishes out? It will end eventually right? Right? It’s not like I have control of any of it anyway. I am tired of being walked on. So when I say I’m done, don’t think I am bluffing, because you might just get your feelings hurt and then there really will be no more to say.

Hyothetically of course

What is the point of hypothetical situations? Do people just like torturing themselves? Like feeling as though life could get worse? Why pretend? I see no point in pretending when life is truly hard enough as it is without so called friends destroying your weekend high by talking about all the shit that could happen in your life.

I have had a rough year. Maybe the roughest I have encountered in a while. I will say that while I am in a position of more responsibility in my life in nearly every avenue, that definitely equates to nothing more than a substantial amount of things to worry about, people to stay on top of and situations that I do my best to avoid. Once such situation is the hypothetical. The situation that only exists in the imagination but somehow persist to arise in conversation as though a drinking game that is meant to end with everyone getting drunk but only succeeds in angering me to know end.

This week, I found a man to fix the roof on my house (bane of my existence for 2 years plus) for no less than $2k, found out my boss wants me to service an area about 100 miles from where I live, realized no one cares that I work harder than anyone I know and walked in to my favorite falafel place only to find the price had gone up enough so that it was no longer prudent for me to buy lunch there.

Saturday is my supposed day of rest. I worked half the day on a rainy September morning with my only happiness being the bar at which I drank just enough to feel happy but not enough to make a fool of myself, ate lots of curly fries and then ended the evening debating, what else, but a hypothetical situation. Trust me, I tried to avoid it entirely. I even said, several times “I don’t want to talk about this” and “This is not even real, why are we still discussing this?” I even tried closing my eyes and ignoring the discourse entirely. And when those attempts failed I stated, “I am about to walk away from this conversation.” At which point my company told me “go ahead”. And then, when I did, that same company had the nerve to ask why I was so upset. Sorry folks, I only have enough energy for real life, so fake life can suck my dick. (Hypothetically of course.)