Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Not an Entertainment Director (Careful - this is a rant.)

{steps onto soapbox.}

I am a lot of things. Ask my friends and family. I am sure they all have lots of names for me. 

I have the standard titles: Wife, Mom, Daughter, Friend, Cohort, Coworker, Geek, Nerd, Pain in the butt, etc. However, my kids are over 18 now and one is married and expecting his own kid soon. I stopped being an entertainment director years ago.

Unfortunately, one of those moments, where you just want to table-flip the hell out of something happened this morning. Well, ok, it started last night. I was being polite and informed someone that I am going to go spend a weekend playing with my friends next month. Nothing huge, go down on Saturday, spend the night, hang out for a bit on Sunday then go home. I am making the commitment to go to Sacramento’s Pagan Pride (http://www.sacpaganpride.org/) as I haven’t been able to go for a couple years and am getting really tired of missing it. I’m dragging my husband with me, because well, that’s what he signed up for when he married me almost 25 years ago. He goes where I go, most of the time. (I’m not that heartless.) But, I am not, repeat AM NOT, responsible for anyone else. Not even my kids this year. If they want to go, they can find their own way there. My daughter and her friends will be at Yaoi-Con (http://www.yaoicon.com/); her fianc√© is livestock sitting for me that weekend. All my bases are covered. (Mind you, I live almost 60 miles from it.)

Or so I thought. Sigh. There are people in my life that do not believe in my way of thinking, do not share my faith. That’s cool. I’m okay with that. I don’t force it down their throats or try to convert. Not my place. As long as they are happy with their faith, that works for me. If you want to know about mine, ask; I’ll answer the best I can as I am still learning all the time. However, there are a couple that seem to believe I am their social director. That I should have included, invited, planned their weekend for them. Sigh.  This morning I have to deal with the crap, the pouty, pissy, moody, crap, and I know where it stems from – peeps are feeling like I purposefully left them out and I don’t want them around. Whatever.

Now, I have no problem with these peeps joining us. They have their own vehicles, they have their own lives. If they choose to come down for a day and join us at Pride, then cool, great, whatever. However, if you get pissy with me because I didn’t include you in my plans? I am gonna table flip the hell out of something. Seriously? If you are over 18, you can make your own plans and do your own thing.

I get really tired, frustrated and annoyed at those people I meet and know that bitch about not having anything to do, or friends to do it with, or whatever. Get off you lazy butt and go find some. They will not, I repeat NOT, come knocking on the door asking if you can come out and play. They probably don’t know you exist. Why? Because you do not put yourself out there.  

I do things because I need to go out and have fun while I can. With MS, I could be in a wheelchair in a few years or hell, next year for that matter. If I want to take a walk, I’m going. If I want to walk a 5K? Yep, you bet your sweet ass I am going to go do it. You can come with or not. You will not, however, bitch at me for doing it or wanting to do it and you will not get mad at me if I didn’t schedule it into your calendar for you. I’ll give you plenty of notice. If you want to go with me or be there or whatever, it’s of your own free will. I have too much to do and plan for with MS mucking up the waters than to have to worry about your adult ass, too.

You are not tied to a chair, handcuffed to a bed, or under house arrest. Do it your own damn self. The only person responsible for your bloody happiness is yourself. I tell myself that in the mirror every damn morning then I put on my big girl panties and combat boots and head out to defeat the day. Or, I try to. I understand that there are days I won’t be able to do much, but again, that is my decision, my issue, and my pain. Yes, I appreciate some of the help I get, if I need it, I will ask for it and when it is given I try to be gracious about it. My guilt at needing it is mine. BUT, I never assume I am going to get it or that it is due to me automatically.


Oh, and you are not Grumpy Cat, try smiling once in damn while. You might activate a few endorphins and actually be moderately happy for once. 

 {jumps off box}

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