2009-05-12
I didn't spell check this. Sorry.
I wish I had more time but I'm a little afraid of more time. I remember sitting alone and bored and doing it for so long that I ran out of boredom and may have been catatonic for hours on end.
On the other hand, constantly jumping from one project at work to the next and bouncing back to catch the follow-up on the other one and making sure to at least leave a message for that guy is really exhausting. I catch a lull and I'm just.... void. There's a blank spot where there was a constant stream of action for the previous few hours.
Derby has slowed down, administratively so I do feel like I have time at home again, or I'm starting to feel like it anyway. It's taken me three weekends to WANT to go do something on a Friday night because I'm so used to knowing that a Friday night may be the only four hours of downtime I'd have all week.
I'm conditioned to luxuriate in the four-six hours between work and sleep as if it's a week-long vacation. It's been my mental permission to drift for so long that I am having a hard time wanting to go out on Friday nights.
Also, it's 847 degrees now.
It's itchy and hot and the sun actually hurts me when it touches me unless I'm at a pool. At least in my mind I expect the sun to shine brightly at a pool. My frame of historical reference for the sun is that it should be in full force if I'm in a pool.
The cool thing is that there's so much stuff going on in my life that I don't have much room for self-pity or crying over spilt milk.
Socially, I have a whole bunch of things I'd like to dwell on, like the Angry Vegan who baited me into a discussion about derby and then accidentally sent texts ABOUT me to me.
Who am I to judge this? I made a terrible, awful mistake along the same lines once but with much more devestation and regret.
But I had the grace to go away and stay away, immediately upon apology which was also immediate.
This guy just kept pressing and pulling and shoving and no matter how I disengaged, there was more coming at me. And it wasn't even like he was ACTUALLY apologizing.
He'd apologize but then tell me how self-important I am.
He'd apologize and ask me in a disappointed tone, "Do you really believe that?"
He'd apologize and say, "I am exactly what you fear for your sport - an arrogant guy taking over and exploiting it for money which is 100% of the reason why the sport was founded with Bylaws about female owenership and with the intention that any woman, ANY woman be able to come to derby and find her a place for herself as long as she was willing to do the work on the track or in the organization. I AM the antithesis of your core values. I dismiss your principles, which you've said are more important than money here.
Now forgive me, goddammit."
That's how he apologized.
Professionally, I wanted to maintain a little grace for the peace of derby but... But I couldn't.
Wouldn't.
I held my insults, I didn't respond to half of his texts, I ignored and dismissed and worked an inner monologue but I didn't forgive him.
There will always be gossip.
There will always be people who don't like you.
And THAT is what's forgiveable.
The forgiveness is to me, by me because it's no shame to accept that you don't accept every jerk's relentless need to be accepted.
arizonasarah at 4:41 p.m.