This weekend is my father-in-law’s 70th birthday. Fortunately that means I get a weekend off from e-mails, phone calls and drafting contracts. However, that also means I cannot resume in my Buffy The Vampire Slayer Netflix binge until at least Sunday night.
Last week you might noticed there was no Sunday Sips. There wasn’t one the week before, either. Life is kind of crazy right now, and eventually I’ll get more personal, but for now I think everyone can relate to sorting through their boxes, trying to decide what stays behind and what joins you in the next chapter of your life. It’s an emotional experience, especially if you’re downsizing.
I kind of hit my f*** it wall. Two weeks ago, I took Friday off from work and had a bit of a mental health day. I’m not going to lie, I’m stressed out. In the good old days, like five years ago, I would have hucked myself out of an airplane but clearly, that’s not a viable option anymore.
Lately, a lot of things have been getting under my skin. Maybe it’s an accumulation of not speaking up when something bothers me, or maybe it’s just because people really have become that insensitive. The main things bothering me right now:
- I really hate election years. People seem to think it’s open season to attack those who have different political beliefs or issues than they do. We all have different issues that are important to each of us—I understand and respect that my issue is not yet a concern to you because chances are, you have an issue that isn’t on my list of “important things to fix.” Calling each other names, accusing a majority of people of being racist or uneducated is childish. If you feel strongly about a certain political candidate, I would love to hear your thought process and know why he (or she) is your person. If you don’t feel comfortable leaving your answers in the comments below, send me an email!
- People who owe me money who have no intention of ever paying me back. It’s my fault, I knew better than to do business with a family member with a reputation of taking advantage of others’ generosity. If you’re on welfare and constantly are asking people to help you pay for things, don’t broadcast all over the internet that you’ve just spent several hundred dollars on baseball tickets when you owe other’s money.
- Being contacted by wine brands (read: bulk wine companies) who want me to market their product to you lovely folks without even trying them. Or enjoying them. I will never recommend a wine to you that I wouldn’t drink or gift myself. I’m not a wine expert, I know what I enjoy and what I don’t enjoy. But I cannot look at myself in the mirror and try to sell you on a sub-par product for the sake of a couple hundred dollars. To those companies reaching out to us, I thank you for considering us but please understand and respect that I don’t want to be one of those un-honest bloggers who will sell anything, to anyone.
My office closed for two and a half weeks between Christmas and New Year’s, which was a welcomed break from the hustle and multi-million dollar retainers. Before the break, I delivered a contract to one of our clients at our bi-monthly meetings at Starbucks. We sat across the table from one another as he eyed the twelve page document I had given him, casually talking about our plans for the holidays.
“What are you going to do with that extra half-week off?” he asked.
“Relax. Do some blogging,” I replied.
“Blogging?” he asked, eye brow curiously raised. “What do you have to blog about?”
I explained to him what my purpose for this blog was and casually slid my blogs’ business card across the table. “It’s just a different way to be creative with the minimal free-time I do have.”
He smirked and we said our goodbyes after exchanging bottles of wine. His of course were much more expensive and impressive than the ones I gifted him; it’s to be expected. He calls the wine I gift him his daily drinkers.
This past Tuesday morning, we met at our usual time and place. I gave him the updated contracts and he didn’t bother to open them. For a second, I was worried he was going to move his business elsewhere.
“I’ve been reading your blog,” he said with a half-smile.
I keep my private life and my work life very separate. I am not friends with any of my current co-workers on Facebook or Instagram. So having a client know about my secret side project is a little unnerving. I don’t know how far back he’s read or if he’s passed the link onto someone else, my boss perhaps.
“You have a very colorful vocabulary,” he said.
When I’m at work, I’m polished. My hair and makeup is done, I smile when it’s appropriate, bite my tongue when I want to call someone out on their stupidity. Rarely do I curse or speak my second language, sarcasm. I’m professional. It’s who I’m paid to be.
“Is it fulfilling your creative niche?” he asked.
After pondering the answer for a bit I replied, “I’m writing again.”
“Are you writing what you want to be writing about?”
“Sometimes,” I said. “I’m just happy to be learning again.”
The day when I’m not learning or writing (or reading), life will be without purpose.
“Then you should continue it,” he said, pulling out an envelope with a check in it. “Take some time off, do some writing. Be yourself for a while.”
What I love most about blogging is that I’m not paid to be anyone when I’m blogging. I can be myself. If I want to call someone out for being a fucktard, I will. I don’t have to pretend to have all the answers. I don’t have a desire to help you become a millionaire, collect fuzzy pillows or share white-washed photos of my feet in bed clutching a coffee mug, There are plenty of other bloggers out there who have molded themselves into carbon copies of the blogs that came before theirs. They say having someone copy you is a form of flattery, but I don’t want to copy anyone else. I want to be my true, authentic self, mismatched socks and all. I think that’s what we should all strive to be in life.
I’ve already made a decent living in a job that required me to be a certain way. If I’m going to continue blogging, I’m going to be me. Who are you when you’re blogging? Are you a carbon copy of the previous crisp white blog you visited?
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An honest parenting piece.
When your profession takes years off your life.