Cinderella Syndrome

That's what I call that stupid state of waiting for someone to rescue you. I used to give in to Cinderella Syndrome a lot when I was younger. These days I get irritated with myself when I realise that I'm 'holding out for a hero'.

Have to admit, though, no matter how realistic and grounded I've become, I still dream about someone sweeping me off my office chair, demanding I resign to take care of the children we're gonna have, and carry me down the 2 flights of stairs, before depositing me in the seat of his big, All Wheel Drive chariot. (The next day, while I'm lounging in the huge elegantly cream-coloured bed, he'll stroll into the room and announce that my account has been opened, and that I have a personal allowance of R100 000 per month, and that the cook wants to know what to serve for lunch.)

That, of course, ain't gonna happen, but it would still have been wonderful. Naturally, he'd have to be able to cope with my desire to surround myself with animals, and digging up the estate lawn to make place for the veggie garden, and fruit orchard. But, since he is a figment of imagination, he'd have absolutley no problem with that, and would give me as much space as an airy-fairy Gemini could possibly need.

So, I bet even the most hardened feminist has an occasional flirt with CS, and to that I say:"Right on Sister!" before turning back to my small desk in the open-plan office (seating 18) to do my R5 000 a month job, and check whether I've had any unpaid debits on my account yet.

Talent and (lack of) enthusiasm

So I went off to see the folks at the competing company. Had a very honest, very open discussion about what it would take to make me pack up and move over. Got hustled over to the sales manager's office the moment I arrived, told him exactly what I felt, and got the third degree in return. Took about 20 minutes, at the end of which he said that if I was chosen, they would make me an offer I couldn't refuse, to which I said 'sharp'. That was Friday. I am not holding my breath.

Other than that, I once again brought out someone's 'Inner Bitch', without any effort on my part on Saturday. Special talent, that. Went to a friend's stork tea, felt kinda low, so I suppose I was a bit quiet. When an acquintance told me that I was behaving very well, as a joke, another acquintance remarked that I 'was totally out of my depth, wasn't I?' which I interpret as "You don't belong, love, f-off". Don't really understand what brought that on, maar nou ja. So I stayed for the formalities, and then did as she so discreetly suggested.

Suppose I just have one of those faces.

Don't know about the finances yet, salary is still uncertain. Looks like I might be getting this month, next month, and then from March on, not. To be perfectly honest, since I have NO possible solutions, I am ignoring (or ignoring as much as I can, when I don't get chills from worry) the subject. Ostrich-syndrome.

No meaningful contributions today, I'm afraid. I'm all out of enthusiasm. I'll work on that.

Throw me a rope, will ya?!

My life seems kinds surreal at the moment. Having MAJOR financial worries, and have a 'chat' scheduled with someone at a competiting company. She got my name from an ex-collegue, who moved over to their side a while back. Initially she phoned me 2 days ago, introduced herself and told me why she called, and asked whether I'd be willing to come see her. I agreed, and we made an appointment for today.

So yesterday, the papaya hits the fan at work, and I stand a chance of not getting any salary for a few months, all totally above board, nothing underhanded on my boss' side, purely due to the kind of business we're in, but there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Very faint, but it's there. I decide to let her know, thanks, but no thanks, which I did. Only she calls back, and begs me to at least come listen to her offer. So, that's how come I still have an appointment with her.

Lately I've been feeling like I'm observing my life from the bottom of a rather large pit. Today, this feeling is even stronger, and it's like someone else is pulling the strings, and changing the scenery around me. Maybe I'll try and get out of this hole, or maybe I'll just stay in here for a while, it's kinda nice, quiet.

Anyway

What a strange morning I've had. First off, my son slept through, and even though he's 5, I can count the times he hasn't joined me in my bed some time during the night on my hands. He almost never sleeps through. So I decided to let him sleep a little later than usual, which of course led to a very rushed morning. Plus, every now and again, he decides to go to school with a mohawk. He asks me to gel his hair, and is very particular about 'the look'.

Arriving at school, the other five-year olds point and laugh, I end up wondering whether this happens every time we gel his hair, and realise that if it does, I have a very brave little boy, willing to face a classroom full of laughing and cruel toddlers, to be who he wants to be. I wish he could understand how proud I am of him.

So, when I get back to the car, I notice a baby wondering the street. Serious! A little boy, probably about 2, strolling around the neighbourhood on his own. So we sit in the car for a while, waiting for whatever grown-up is supposed to be with him, to appear from somewhere. Only nobody does, and the little boy is working his way to the intersection by the school where the ususal frantic dropping-off is in full swing. Mom jumps out, walks up to him, he puts his hand in hers, and off they go in search of his house, which, it turns out is about 200m down the street. He lets go of my mom's hand, promptly grabs the huge steel gate, and slides it open like a pro. Skips inside, no worries in the world, with mom in tow. She comes back reporting that the maid is supposedly looking after the kids, and she didn't even know he was missing. As a mom, I find that incredlibly frightening, and would probably freak out and fire the maid's ass, if I could contain myself enough not to peel her fingernails off with pliers first. How scary is that? He had absolutely no problems with following a total stranger anywhere, and what would have been easier that grabbing his hand, and just taking him anywhere you wanted?

Anyway.

What I really wanted to say this morning, is that yesterday, when I was walking the labyrinth, I thought that listening to the rhythm of my footsteps was kinda comforting, and liked the feeling of being able to concentrate on nothing else for that moment. Only the sound of me slowly moving in circles. So I've decided to try and be more 'in a moment', and less in those painful ages just after payday, when I have to face the reality of not having any money left to buy fuel with, knowing that I have no option, my son has to get to school, and 32km's there and back,is a little out of his walking range. Debt here we come! Again.

So, for right now, I'm gonna work on right now, and not on the future. Who knows, someday my future might be so bright, I gotta wear shades! Joke, people, joke. If you can't fix it, poke fun at it.

The One that Creates has an evil sense of humour

Which is why I believe that She is a Woman. Only a woman can appreciate irony as much as the Creatress obviously does.

My argument for this observation is as follows:
I was brought up to do the right thing, be good, and live my life according to the guidelines as provided in the Christian handbook to living life right - the Bible. Sure, some of the commands I took more seriously than others, but the point is, I do not murder, debauch, pillage, rob, you know, the stuff that's generally frowned upon by good people. I try to live my life by one rule: do not hurt anybody (which includes myself). So, according to most popular religions of the world we live in, living a 'good' life, should get me some points on the scoreboard. Sorta like following a healthy lifestyle, eat right, excercise, and you should lose weight, and hopefully live a positively awesome life. Same with this, live right, and you should reap the rewards, by living a joyous, beautiful life. That's the theory.
In practice, this amounts to bullshit. Not only does my life suck lemons, but it has done so for pretty much as long as I can remember. In my lifetime I have been robbed 8 times, been shot at once, almost raped 3 times (depends on how you interpret the rape legislation, which is a whole other blog), and although I hate the term, emotionally (and sometimes physically) abused for a big part of my youth. This has led to my ability to chose healthy relationships being a little warped (big surprise there).
Although according to popular literature, my life till now should have crippled me, I am too stubborn to lie down, and stay down, so, every morning I get up, every day I try to make a better life, every night I cry for all my efforts going to waste. Still, tomorrow morning, guess what I'll be doing? Getting up, and trying again. Yeah well, I've never been much good at only picking fights I can win.
So, every now and again, I get a little down about it all. I get a little pissed off at people ten years my junior, waving and hooting out the window of their half-a-mill-vehicles, sipping their thousand-buck-a-bottle cognac. I get a little pissed off at the guys sitting their fat asses in their leather chairs in their manager's offices, who has never had calluses on their hands from hard work, and who laugh at me for knowing the names of edible plants (cos they've never had to go pick dinner in the veld). I get a little pissed off at husbands and wives bitching at each other for not remembering to call that third time, cos they've never considered life without someone who forgot to phone three times, they've never had to do EVERYthing alone.
Don't get me wrong, I'm am not saying that I need a man to function, I have mentioned that before, but I do want someone I can tell about my fucked-up day, and about how much it hurts to feel like I'll never be enough, when seemingly everybody around me is partying up a storm without even a tenth of the things I worry about on a daily basis.

So, to get back to the title of the blog, sometimes I whisper in my head, "Don't you think it'll be nicer for every one concerned, if I just didn't wake up tomorrow morning? I know it certainly would be for me." You know, not to be too pushy or anything, just so She knows, I'm ain't happy, ma'm. That I think I got a raw deal, and would like to re-negotiate. That I'd like to have some of that goodness everbody else gets, without any clear reason for them earning it. Just die a little, and maybe next time choose an easier life, cos this one is no good. It's not like I'm asking for world peace or anything, it's something small and insignificant in the greater scheme of things. Not even a blip on the radar screen of life. The ripples my death would cause would not be worth mentioning. So, somewhere in the dark, just take it, stop my breath, grab the heart so it won't beat. Do what ever it is the Grim Reaper does. Please. (See, I even ask nicely, what good manners I've got.)

And then, like this morning, I wake up, and think: "Well, Thanks for listening, and Fuck You too!".

What does sacred mean to you?

Our local art museum is in the building opposite the building I work in. Today, on the floor of our art museum someone pasted the outline of a labyrinth, in brown paper. In the centre of the labyrinth there's a stool, with a pillow on it, and when you sit down, you face a sheet of paper on the floor with the words " The Labyrinth is a sacred space. What does sacred mean to you?" printed on it.

So what does sacred mean to me?

Sacred means that which was, and never will be. Sacred means loving a child for being a child, and letting a child be a child. My dreams were sacred, when I still had them.

I had 2, or, only two that was constant. Firstly, I wanted to care for animals.I told my mom when I was still very small, that I was gonna live in a cottage in a big forest, with lots and lots of animals around me, and no humans. This changed into wanting to become a vet, then into loving them back to health in an animal shelter. Never wanted to worry about funding, or where the next feeding would come from, all I wanted was to hold a sick animal in my arms, and love it. And, whether it died or got healthy, it would have been loved for that while, and it would know that I love it. Second dream, was to live on a piece of land, with a man I love, with my children, and of course - animals. To plant and grow living things, to gather fruit and vegetables I've grown myself. And to care for, and nurture all around me. Doesn't sound like much, I realise, and to some people, this might be a century old dream, past it's "best before" date. I don't care, I think that I would have been whole if I was that person.

So, I guess what's sacred to me, is love. Being loved, and sharing that with every other shiny spark of soul. The most simplistic, delicate, intricate, solid and at the same time, the most inconsistent thing in the universe. Which makes everything I see and everything I am, that much sadder.

Rats, Dogs, Dreams

Had rather peculiar dreams last night. My son has 2 tame rats (for real, not as part of the dream), one white with albino pink eyes, and one looking rather a lot like a wild rat, only much fatter. White one is called Stewart, brown one Jo. Both girls, both totally overweight for rats.

So, in the first dream, Jo was sick, very sick, she was gasping like a dying fish (never good), and was this horrid dull colour, like people get when they're dying a slow, drawn out death. Anyway, I knew I had to take her to the vet, and was on my way, but had the nagging thought at the back of my mind that I was gonna be ridiculed for taking a rat to the vet. Also, there was another rat in the cage, pretending to be Jo, but I knew who the real Jo was, and was more annoyed than worried about the imposter. The dream ended with me on my way to the vet, annoyed at the imposter rat for distracting me from my real mission.

Bit of background before I start the second dream, I have 4 Griffon Bruxellois dogs, a small toy breed, that looks a lot like Pugs, with long hair. Beautifull, sweet little dogs, who adore the person they choose as Alpha.

In the dream, I went somewhere very far away, to collect what must have been about 30 Griffons. Brought them home, but home was a filthy, trailer-park looking place. With scrap metal everywhere, and general disarray. I was so happy with the dogs, that I didn't mind the horrid surroundings at all. The puppies were everywhere, playing, and being happy little dogs as they usually are, when my aunt and a man I couldn't see, showed up. She goes straight to a pair of puppies sitting separate from mine, picks up one and tells me how lucky I am and what good dogs they are. Only, they are not mine, and they are Bull Terriers, a breed that is brilliant on their own, but does not share territory well with other breeds. I love Bull Terriers, but I have seen the savage way they deal with other, less determined, less territorial dogs, and don't want these anywhere near my babies. I just know they would kill off my dogs. So, I tell my aunt exactly what I think of the Bull Terriers mingling with my dogs, and remember feeling very indignant that she would think the Terriers are "better" dogs than my beautiful Griffies.

Lots of symbols, and very open to interpretation, isn't it?