Good morning! R-E-S-P-E-C-T, find out what it means to me…I’d like to tell you I’m jamming to a little Aretha, but it’d be a lie. Instead, I’m chewing on a problem like a dog with Tourette's and a MEAN jaw-tick, working on a fresh bone. And after “workin’ the bone over” for the last three days (yes peoples, I can obsess on RARE occasion!) (Hey! I successfully dodged the lightning strike! Yay me!) I finally realized that the entire “marrow of the bone” is made up of respect.
There I was, minding my own business, bugging the be-jeepers outta hubby by relentlessly heckling Sports Center (yes, heckling IS my business.) when the phone rang. It was “Buddy.” (Some names have been changed to protect the author from nasty phone messages informing her of what an assuming B-word she is.)
|How I spent my weekend...|
Super Slug on the couch!
I answered and made a bit of small talk until we got to the part where Buddy informed me that he and his beloved “Berttie” were heading outta town for the day and wanted to “invite” me to house and puppy sit for them. (Yeah, again with the whole “name change” thing. It’s called “plausible deniability.” Remember that…it could come in handy someday.)
After tripping over my tongue, feet, and scrounging to find a polite way to say, “I’m so sorry, but I can’t,” I made a little more small talk then hung up the phone. THAT was when the emotional loop-da-loop began.
OK, I’ve already mentioned I’m NOT good at expressing my state-of-health to people. I expect everyone in my life to be like The Amazing Kreskin and know what I’m thinking and how I’m feeling at all times, and woe unto you if you failed to get this memo…And OBVIOUSLY? Buddy hadn’t checked his metaphorical in-box in a while.
Here’s the thing…and yes, I’m gonna be an unrealistic, whiny baby for a moment-o here, so deal with it…Buddy and Berttie have had the whole “what’s going on with me” conversation. They should know. We had “the talk” about ALL of it! I mean, I can tell you exactly what’s goin’ on with their health, household, and general state of their corner of the World. Is some common reciprocation too much to ask? (Told you I was gonna be all whiny-baby and stuff!)
Yep, we've got one.
But honestly? It’s partially my fault. I do NOT want people to look at me as “sick” because I’m not. I don’t want people to treat me with kid gloves, because I’m not a fragile Leg Lamp. (Bonus points if you get the “A Christmas Story” reference!) So what ends up happening is people who don’t actually live with me are completely unaware of my day-to-day state.
The point that so often ends up lost in the laughter is that I may not be exactly “sick” but I AM slightly altered. I am the chiffon prom dress the Seamstress took in an inch too far, so you’re pretty much unable to breathe or even move in it without tearing something or other. As of right now, I am ever so slightly LIMITED in my “livin’ large” capabilities.
And that, my friends, is what I so desperately wish folks would respect…my stupid limits. *deep sigh* (OK, it took me a while to get there, but I finally made the stinkin’ point. OK? Geeze!)
The truth be told, I am frequently a physical mess. At times, I am an emotional wreck. I am mentally…well, that’s a whole Chinese Puzzle Box that has yet to be deciphered. And maybe…just maybe I’m not respecting myself by not coming right out and telling people these things? Am I dissin’ my own body by not openly sharing my current limits? Am I setting extended relationships up for imminent failure by not being direct?
Darn it! I HATE it when I write myself into an epiphany! This was NOT what I set out to write today. I wanted to make everyone ELSE look like the bad guy so I’d get all kinds of awesome sympathy and virtual pats on the head from all of you who could see just how deeply and profoundly I’d been hurt. Then? I’d eat some chocolate, have a good cry, and limp through my day with the smile of the “just” on my face. BLAH!
Now it’s all ruined, because apparently it’s my fault. Thanks guys…just, thanks.
|Told ya I wasn't a Leg|
Lamp. I'm obviously a
I suppose now I’ve got a few phone calls to make this morning. There went my “watch mindless TV” time slot! (Sorry Maury…you’ll have to carry on without me.)
May your day be filled with respect, both for yourself and others. For no matter what your limits or their limits may be, everyone walks their own bumpy roads, and just because we don’t see the cracks and dents on the undercarriage doesn’t mean they’re not there.