Which Old Witch?
First, Internet, let me say that I was totally overwhelmed (in a good way) by your responses to my last post. I think/hope I responded to all of your comments, because I appreciate each and every last one. You really helped me find some closure on the whole career issue, and I have a feeling that the next time my work-related ennui emerges, I will be able to handily resist the urge to staple myself to my cubicle wall in a display of very beige self-flagellation.
Someone stole my cat o’nine tails from the break room.
I hope that you, too, found some comfort and camaraderie in the comments, which made me realize how many of us work just to support our other interests. I think I selfishly (and melodramatically) assumed that arts/theatre people are the only ones who have to sacrifice 40 hours of their lives to The Man to be able to do what they love outside of work, and that’s just crazy. We all make those sacrifices, even if doing what we love = collecting macaroni & cheese boxes.
Also, can we agree to stop giving a shit about what other people think of us and our career-related choices? Other People really seem to be fucking with our heads, yo. I would venture to say that 95% of my unhappiness comes from worrying about what various and sundry other people are thinking/saying about me, and, well, fuck that.
(Also, I’m realizing that this photo is kind of a glorified version of the “Hang in There!” kitten posters, and now I’m embarrassed. Please don’t hate.)
Actually, now that we’re talking about working on things we’d like to improve about ourselves, allow me to share with you my progress on something I’ve talked about here before (but really can’t find it right away so please forgive me for not linking): Not ragging on/putting down/obsessing over my personal appearance, mostly for Sadie’s sake. So, after hearing and reading countless accounts of daughters who picked up on and eventually mimicked their mothers’ dissatisfaction with their bodies and personal appearances, I made a rule to stop uttering my usual “Oh, I hate that picture of me” whenever I see a photo of myself. This was made easier by the fact that all of my recent photos are taken with Sadie, so I decided to focus on how HAPPY I look, and how awesome it will be for Sadie to see these photos when she gets older. And Internet? IT WORKED. Fuck me sideways, IT WORKED!
I can honestly say that photos at which I used to cringe are some of my favorites now, simply because I’m noticing the happiness on my face and the look of “holy shit, I love this kid” in my eyes. Oh, I still notice the zits and the wrinkles and all the other real/imagined imperfections, but I’m AT LEAST not voicing them, and that’s a start.
And then, while I was helping Sadie brush her teeth* last night, I looked into the mirror and saw what I thought was a gray hair. Eh. Big deal. Honestly, I’ve seen them before, thanks to my whore of a lovely former stylist, who went to the trouble of pointing them out to me while I was all of 27 fucking years old. But this hair? Looked a little different. A little…brighter. I leaned in for a closer look, and…you guys. THAT SHIT WAS STRAIGHT-UP WHITE. I’m talking Steve Martin. I’m talking Doc from Back to the Future. I’m talking Once-there-was-this-kid-who-got-into-an-accident-and-couldn’t-come-to-school.
Granted, it’s just ONE hair (that I know of, OMG), but it is loud and proud, y’all. Wiry. A fucking double double toil and trouble WITCH HAIR. I cannot imagine having a whole head of that shit one day. So I’m trying REALLY HARD to be cavalier about it. Ha ha ha! I shall embrace my giant and unwieldy white hair of knowledge! I shall pretend it is just really, really blond! Look at your mother, child! Learn from my totally-okay-with-it-ness!
*Sadie brushing her teeth = Sadie letting me get a whole 1.5 seconds of actual tooth brushing in before grabbing the brush and chewing on it for 45 minutes while enormous streams of drool cascade from her mouth and BITCH, don’t you even THINK about trying to take the brush away from her because she will unleash a scream that will prompt neighbors 3 blocks away to call CPS.
Entry filed under: And you KNOW THIS!.