I do not like being stressed. I try to pride myself on using humor and my inner monkey DJ and the other various frenetic things that run about in my brain to keep the stress away....but I have my days. Today was one of those days. I attribute it to the fact that even though I'm on my 89th course of antibiotics, they are not really helping me completely. I was brought up to think that once you had the "good stuff," the Keflex, the Amoxicillin, what have you, you will be cured. With me, not so much. I have basically been sick since September with brief patches of wellness nuzzled in places.
Here's the thing. No, I don't have cancer or something horrible, but constantly being sick with sinuses, allergies, associated migraines with those maladies, it gets really old really fast. I'm not an old person, I'm freaking 33 years old, and I can't make plans that far in advance because I can't say if I'll be well or not. I'm to the point, and I am totally serious, of telling my ENT to remove my septum, my adenoids, my ovaries, and my prostate. Take whatever will fix it, and it can't possibly make it worse. This is a bunch of shit...
On a completely different note, I think it should be acceptable...and encouraged to tell everyone exactly what you think. I haven't so much had problems with this before, as you that know me well, know, but it seems that actually calling people or dumb policies or whatever out, is not acceptable. It also seems that the dumb are rewarded and promoted while the hardworking intelligent are left to flounder and hit a ceiling, because people in charge don't want intelligent people to work with, they want sycophants and yes-men to enforce their inane policies.
I always thought, and was raised to believe, that intelligence would be rewarded, and being the best at what you do made a difference, but sometimes it's political, and sometimes it's the degree behind your name, and a whole host of other ridiculous notions. I want to interject that this is not remotely specific to me at all, that my hard-working high blood pressure-having husband has worked himself to near-insanity and has little to show for it at this point. I want a better life for us. I want for both of us to feel fulfilled and rewarded and at the level at which we should be. I want to get my ass in gear and write, because I want us to have a cook and a maid and monkey butlers. I imagined great things for myself at this age, and I don't disparage myself for current expectations lacking, but, to be honest, I didn't picture a husband in the mix.
I feel that we are working toward good things, and we are doing better than most people our age at this point in the economy, but we are both frustrated, for different reasons. It's a part of life and a part of genuinely growing up, I know, but I've never been patient before, so this is tough. I mostly want Smitty to be rewarded for the time he puts in and the care he takes, and his genuine desire for the job to be done correctly. I never realized that I would care more about someone else's well-being than my own, but I do. I swear, I would create a scenario worthy of Lifetime Movie Network if it would help him. He is the most diligent, hard-working human being I've ever met, and he deserves like a $5 million bonus for all the stuff he's done. Plus, then I could get my maid and monkey butlers.
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