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Sometimes…or have a lot of time on hand.

 

‘Sometimes you need bad things to happen to inspire you to change and grow’

Sometimes…

Growth has no end or beginning.  Image result for sometimes

Sometimes…

Change is constant with no restrictions, boundaries or cut offs.

Sometimes…

Inspiration comes from places least expected.

Sometimes…

Things happen for a reason.

Sometimes…

There’s no logic to why things happen.

Image result for sometimesSometimes…

Bad things happen to good people.

Sometimes…

Bad things happen to bad people.

Sometimes…

Good things happen to good people.

Sometimes…

Nothing happens at all to anyone.    Image result for images of sometimes

Sometimes…

The way to win a battle is to walk away.

Sometimes…

Walking away leads to the battle.

Sometimes…

Dark, rainy grey clouds bring a smile.

Sometimes…

White cotton candied clouds make you sick.

Sometimes…

Silence is golden.

Sometimes…

Screaming profanities at high volume is bliss.

Sometimes…

Bliss.

Sometimes…

Disruption.

Sometimes    

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Smiling faces…or Reality Bites

I work with them and so do you…there’s no getting around it, no putting it on the side…you know who they are.  Image result for smiling faces

They smile in your face, play the extrovert full of empathy that’s really apathy meanwhile you see the fakeness, the fake emotions while they shove you under the bus.

“Play the game” close confidents whisper in your ear. Nod your head, say yes and pamper their whimsical hysterical demands. Hey, they make more than you so suck it up.

When the time comes when enough is enough, do you go postal, cursing with eloquent profanity, blazing high pitched and on target as you sashay out the door?

Or do you smile, weakly, tuck the tail up where the sun can’t shine, walk backwards out the door, bowing and saying, “Oh so sorry. Me quit”.

Who has the answers to dealing with those ‘smiling faces’ 35 plus hours a week?

I don’t.

Actually, I do.   Image result for smiling faces

From those packs of smiling hyenas there are those who shine through.

They are sincere…

They are supportive…

They are encouraging…

They are…

the coworkers you love to work with!

But always remember:

Smiling faces sometime pretend to by your friend

Transparency or why the hell can’t ya just tell the truth…

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Transparency is our motto…

Yea right. Transparency is far from your motto and if the need is so great to state it, it says one thing: You’re lying.

We believe in transparency…

Really now? Transparency is what you call a twisted version of the truth which is lying to make it seem real.

Transparency is our commitment to you…

To me? Or did you mean your Board Members who are fully aware of the transparency and what lies behind it.

Kane-Transparency-Bubbles-1200-1200x627

Our transparency speaks for itself…

Does it now? I guess the attention of your transparency should focus on what you’re not saying.

Our money supply is transparent…

Um…like those over seas bank accounts?

I feel if I hear the usage of ‘transparency’ one mo’ time, I’ma gonna go ballistic and put going postal to shame.

Please…

Cut the crap, when has ‘transparency’ replaced telling the truth?

Or is lying in any form necessary to make a buck the new norm?

I do not have the answers.

Transparency is bull…

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But, there are some great quotes on it:

“Truth never damages a cause that is just.”
― Mahatma Gandhi

“In the kingdom of glass everything is transparent, and there is no place to hide a dark heart.”
― Vera NazarianThe Perpetual Calendar of Inspiration

“If you remove Al Sharpton’s blackness, he disappears. He’s transparent. There’s nothing there because he bases his whole life on his blackness. Me, I’m a black man; but my blackness has submission to my Christianity.”
― Ken Hutcherson

“You have to be transparent
so you no longer cast a shadow
but instead let the light pass through you.”
― Kamand Kojouri

Give me lies or give me transparency!!!

**First photo is mine, the rest, courtesy of the WWW

 

 

 

 

No money in my pocket…

The job I do which comes with money, insurance, sick and vacation days-

Will Never Define Me.

If I left tomorrow, another would take my place and yesterday’s trash would hold my memory.  I work for an organization that bears no ownership from me but seeks to own me 9-5 five days a week, 52 weeks of the year.

Not my circus, not my monkeys and,

still I work.

For the pitiful salary that allows me to live paycheck to paycheck.

I work.

Twenty-three dollars of green and cream coloured paper can pay for a NYRR race so yes, I

work.

Some money is better than no money.

Before 9am I am the person who owns myself, running 4-6 miles through Ppark alleviating all the knots and kinks required for the introvert in me to go forth into the wonderful office space world where, annoying can’t be alone extroverts, rule.

After 5pm, I revert to being me, in my apartment, wearing the jammies, with the furbabies, two glasses of wine and a good book or SVU on the tube. The introvert in me welcomes my non-inclusive space.

Non-inclusive means space for me and surely not you.

Lord have mercy…

for the extroverts and their lonely selves cannot exist without the attention sucked from introverts who long for the private office the extroverts occupy.

Still I work.

Money is earned not given in my case.

I work…

not for the accolades which are reserved for those who make the most and work the least.

Work,

because it pays the endless bills left always in arrears.

Some money is better than no money so

I work and will keep working until the bills ride off into the sunset or I win mega millions and with my middle finger held high, I ride off into the sunset.

***images from the web…

Feelin’ Groovy, Felling Well…But…

Wellbutrin…wellbutrin-lawyer-lawsuit-law-firm-attorney-300x300.jpg

(or rather the generic version since my insurance will not pay for the real thing)

Well…

We have a rather strange relationship.

I take it.

It takes me.

Well…

We have separated for now.

Possibly a long separation…

Although (Wellbutrin) you are noted to deliver far more than I could ever imagine,

You don’t…and

Well…

You leave my brain in a state of discombobulation, like walking through a foggy swamp, pausing long enough to see the resident croc munching on my left big toe and then later  wondering where did it go?

My sleeping is flawless as you cruise through my blood, leading me on pinkish cotton candy paths until I step on the dog s***t someone left behind.

Appetite is in check as there is no appetite, for you are a cheap date who does not pay for food, you as a foodie who loves to boast about consuming,  but once I run away from you, my chomping mouth is on non-stop mode, savouring all the non-delicacies your stinginess denied.   download.jpg

Liver values checked every three months, just to make sure you’re not taking more than you should and yes, thank you my liver is quite clever at leavin’ you wishing and hoping

Okay…

Getting back to what was initially stated,

Wellbutrin and I are separated for now.

Maybe indefinitely.    pills

Maybe forever as was the case of my first so called civil court matrimony union to a man who thought I was wacko anyway…

Wellbutrin.

You are a wonder drug for some.

For me, too many questions on what you bring to the table…

What you have you done for me?…

Ms Jackson…if you’re nasty.

 

 

***BTW-Be so very careful-make sure you research and familiarize yourself with Wellbutrin. If you post ignorant statements, beware…

 

 

 

 

Pieces…Bits and Pieces or WHEN

How quickly the quality of life changes from normal to abnormal

WHEN…

You shaved under your arms with a dull razor two days ago and now two days later your pits are burning

WHEN…

You apply aloe vera to the burning pits, feeling relief until you feel, the LUMPS

WHEN…

Survival mode kicks in, and you’ve been through this before with your mom and know the deal-time is of the essence, so they say, but when it’s happening to you, time goes on fast forward with you driving the train with a clutch when you only know how to drive automatic

WHEN…

Through the layers of receptionists at the doctor’s office and strategically planning, you finally get the receptionist who is willing to help you get that next day appointment

WHEN…

You go through a mammogram diagnostic (you don’t wanna know the details) and ultrasound on the day of your mother’s birth and you keep it on the down low, because your mom is 90 and can’t deal with the possibility of her daughter  being diagnosed with breast cancer, most especially when your mom went through the kidney bean episode  with her sister who died from it.

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WHEN…

You realize how YOU are the THREAD that holds your precious family (mom and fur babies) together and don’t have any provisions or alternative plans for them to follow if YOU should GO before THEM

WHEN…

The diagnosis is normal.

Nothing’s wrong.

No lumps.

Enlarged lymph nodes due to shaving.

And…

the doctor looks at you as if you have three heads but you could care less because being hysterically pro active when cancer runs in the family is far better than sitting back and wishing the lumps would magically disappear  overnight.

How quickly our quality of life changes from abnormal back to normal.

…Bye Felicia Razors…
Hello Nair!

Fragile…or How grief takes hold.

DSCN0869     Today, this day, the sky is grey and rain comes down. Sometimes slow, sometimes fast, sometimes taking a break and sometimes…still waiting for the next sometime to write.

In November I posted my blog piece, ‘I No Longer have a heart…’ on an animal mourning website. Not sure what prompt me to do so but at the time felt a need to release my mourning by whatever means necessary.  Forgot about the post, months passed and then Tuesday came.

I received an email from a pet owner. She lost her fur baby two days prior and was on her 18th hour of crying, screaming, lashing out and not knowing how to deal with the pain.

Like me, she had to make the decision to end her dog’s life and wanted to know how I was doing after six months had passed.

photo.PNGFloored I was.

Did not expect this.

Came out of nowhere into my email which I was checking via Iphone while sitting in Fairway’s parking lot.

Started crying in the parking lot.

Cried, when I got home.

Cried touching his ashes.

Cried.

So f*****g sick of crying.

I responded to her email to let her know it does get better. Memories and pictures guide you through. Allowing grief to take its course is a given.

And it does get better.IMG_1071.jpg

I’ve surrounded myself with so many memories of him. His leash hangs on my coat rack, his collar on a peg in my bedroom where his ashes also rest. I live in the place, Brooklyn and in the house, Berkeley where the memories began. I run in the park he so cherished, especially on Monday mornings after the weekend barbeque garbage lays waiting.

Pi Patel will always be with me.

 

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