Someone told me I am not a good man and I am sure their expectation was this would hurt me but it didn’t.
You could say it didn’t because it is not well defined so I haven’t the ability to know whether I could meet the expectations or if they are reasonable.
If you wanted you could say it didn’t matter because I don’t know them well enough to be concerned about their opinion.
Alternatively you could say I don’t run around telling people I am a good man because I am not. That doesn’t mean I think I am a bad man either because I am not.
I am just a man who has a list of accomplishments that are both good and bad but also one who has never tried to determine if there is more black or red in my ledger.
If I allowed you to pin me down on some beliefs I am certain you would find I live in shades of gray in many areas and that I don’t always accept social norms as having authority over me.
We live in world of subjectivity so while there are some areas that are black/white there are many that aren’t and I won’t except limitations solely because some people say I ought to.
Sunday night has a peculiar kind of energy that is making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I am edgy and short tempered.
Because there is a monster under the bed that wants to fight me but he/she/it won’t come out and face me.
It knows my vivid imagination is crueler than anything it can do and is using that against me. I’d be happier if it showed itself.
It could be as big as a mountain and I’d be happier because I would know what I am dealing with and could take action instead of waiting.
The Gambler’s advice about knowing when to walk away is solid because sometimes it is what you need to do.
But I am having trouble doing so tonight. Too busy pacing back and forth, restless energy pushing me to goad this beast into showing itself.
I know enough to know there won’t be any real action to take until the morning but I am impatient.
The not knowing and anticipation is hard and it doesn’t require taking my pulse or a mirror to see the vein in my forehead is protruding to know I am slightly amped up.
A former supervisor told me I need to focus on learning how to ask for help and followed up by saying I don’t appear to be afraid to take on challenges.
I told him that was contradictory and he agreed but none of that made it into the writing of the review I received.
Had I felt more confident in their interest in my career growth I might have said fear is always there. I always feel a little anxious when I don’t completely understand what I am doing or am given a monster project to complete.
Hell, one of the best parts about not being 25 anymore is saying out loud, “I don’t know” and not wondering or worrying about admitting it.
There is a lot of stuff I don’t know and that is the root of this particular moment of crazy energy.
Know when to walk away–I do that far more often than some people realize. I let go of and walk away from all sorts of stuff…people too.
I told the universe it could drop $50 or a $100k into my lap and that I would be grateful. Said it would prove that wacky law of attraction works and that I would buy two or three pieces of gym equipment for my home with some of it.
It would be helpful for nights like this one where I feel like I am dancing in the fire while acid is poured over my head.
Let me take this energy and use it for something positive.
Got a few other ways I can think of to take the edge off and one of them is being exercised by me now. This time at the ‘puter helps a bit.
Somewhere in the ether Dad’s essence floats around and I can hear his voice pushing me to do it right so that I don’t have to do it again.
That is the key of what has me on edge.
I am doing the best I can but I am not sure if I am doing it right. Not sure if I am asking the right questions and though I am quite adept at dancing on the razor’s edge this time it bothers me.
Maybe it is because I hear a dinosaur swimming in the sea, the tick-tock of a clock warning me it is getting closer.
I may be a pirate but I am most assuredly not one with a hook or an assistant named Smee.
Somewhere between a Lost Boy who can still fly and an adult whose experience says I ought to be careful because if I fall it is a long way to the ground.
Reminds me of a time a few weeks back when I was running and something took my feet out from under me and I went down…hard.
Didn’t do much to me, have no real evidence to show I did battle with the earth but the memory lingers and the knowledge I am inching closer to a time when I will be far more concerned about falling than ever before.
Still, that day is not here so I will push to keep it at bay.
There are no guarantees of outstretched hands which might be part of why the former Supe noticed I don’t go looking for them. I just do it myself and keep going.
But it would be nice not to have to and it would be nice not to sit here wondering what the morrow will or won’t bring.
Could be rough, but it could be easy.
Guess I need to know to walk away.