The Heavy

It amazes me the number of things that when I check on them, suddenly, "Just happened, I was about to call you and let you know the great news!"

They didn't just happen.
They are now going to happen because I called for the third time and you finally remembered that these things need to happen.

But don't patronize me; don't lie to me. I know it's not done and that's fine but don't lie to me.

I have a relationship with a vendor who set a meeting with a client and didn't go through me.
This is not the way things are supposed to go and think what you will, but in my position and in my industry, it's not so much paranoia to need the vendor to go through me, as it is covering my ass.
If something comes up while they are meeting, I will likely never hear about it and later, it will be my fault.
That's fine - it's the nature of the beast. The client isn't as aware of this as the vendor.
So a meeting gets totally set up and I get cut in at the very end.
Guess who can't go because she'll be in Sexy Milwaukee?
Guess who had to throw an Iron Fist onto the table and tell the vendor to reschedule, I-don't-care-if-you're-only-going-to-be-in-Arizona-for-2-days-this-isn't-news-to-you?
I hate being the heavy because I have no grace when I come down on someone. I pretty much just fall onto their ego and crush as hard as I can until they bend to my will.

Rollerderby is soooooooo good for me. Seriously.
I have this character that I've been working on and while I'm not ready to divulge the details, I will say that she is from Ukraine and that she came into the world during a horrible tragedy but...
Where there is dark,
There is also a glowing, radioactive light that might power a girl to super-human skating speed.

Rollerderby is good because I have an outlet to be The Heavy and I get to see that there actually is a time and a place and a way to be a thug without worrying about delicacy and grace; laughing at the lack of them, even. But in general, I have this life that does not lend itself to being a thug and hell - I don't even like being thuggish. Some days, I want to be like the Bunny Lady -delicate and lovely, with a taste for red wine and white furniture and not a drop that's stained the spreads.

But, I'm not.
I'm not at all like that.
I'm like, basically the opposite, only I don't spill very often.
I do leave a lot of crumbs, mostly from popcorn that I eat on the couch, and throw at the dog for her to catch in her mouth.
And little pieces of salad that I chopped up last night; pieces of spinach that fell to the floor are probably still there. I picked up most of them, but I bet when I go home, there are pieces of spinach that I won't believe I missed when I was wiping a wet paper towel over the mess.
I bet there are socks stuck in the duvet that I washed last week and that I won't find those socks until next winter.
I bet there are pieces of mail that I should have opened when they got to my apartment but instead, I put them in a place where I would be sure to remember to check them and I bet that when I open that drawer and check those pieces of mail, I bet there will be some small bill for lab services or something that I have to pay and didn't even realize that it was waiting for me until I happened to notice that the drawer didn't close all the way and so it must be time to sort through the stuff in it.

I'm not that girl who is on top of everything, even though I pull it off enough to be getting ahead in Corporate America. I'm adamently not That Girl. Old Lady. Whatever.
I left my debit card at a store for three days and only when I needed it this morning and freaked out that I probably left it in the driveway, so someone probably took it and drained my account and now I am screwed - not because of the money, but because of the hassle to get it all sorted out.... only after I had run the ENTIRE course of how bad a lost debit card could be did I remember that there was only one place I used the card and only one place where it could be.
Sure enough, it was there.

It should be easier, you know?
It shouldn't always reach panic level, just because I am not the kind of girl that I look at and think, "I bet she's a great girlfriend... capable, desirable, and gentle."
I know that I'm sort of a Zelda and she's... wow. Incredible. But she's young and I don't want to be a Zelda anymore. Zelda was straight-crazy and not in a way that ages well. She was an interesting and exciting ray of light when she was young but an aging Zelda is arguably Miss Havisham. And yeah... I worry a lot about that. A lot.
But I can't help it.
I do my best and it's never, ever close to being someone who I assume is better at being That Girl; someone who's together and who doesn't need a full contact sport, starring imaginary characters, to manage her self-esteem and anger issues.
I am painfully aware that most days, especially as I get deeper into my thirties, I would pick to be a girl who isn't The Heavy.
I would pick to be a girl who makes adorable cardboard houses for her bunnies, I would.

But I also know that you can't pick that stuff. I am the woman who's dog follows her without question and at an unsafly close distance. If for some reason, the dog is not under my feet, I am the woman who's from Southern Illinois but sounds like a Cajun when she hollers loudly and for the ninteenth time, "Ro-Zee, git yer baw-wal! Comm ow-on daw-wog!" The whole neighborhood knows when Rosie is out of the courtyard.

There are probably crumbs on my floor, even though I just swept and there are pieces of crap paper everywhere, even though I think I've gotten better about filing things.
I'll never be That perfect Girl.

And although I know I can't make that choice... there's a certain "Iam whud Iam" that you get after a certain age... I seriously hope that the rest of my life I don't end up being as consistently off-putting and difficult as I feel like I am sometimes.

Because that's going to be a lonely, lonely life.

arizonasarah at 4:00 p.m.

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