And I have no idea why. Certain feelings simply crop up when words and phrases spill from my lips, followed immediately with a thought such as “Cheese and crackers, I sound like my parents.”.

Here’s a fun example – and this message will be very brief today, friends, because my mood is at the sticky bottom of a dumpster – The call to fill our oil tank had to be made today. Yeah, we’re still on oil. You guys know how much a new heating system costs including parts and installation? The number would make you puke. As if people in upstate New York have a choice whether or not to use heat in below zero temperatures. Jesus Christ get over here and help me.

Anyway, the amiable lady on the other side of the phone was very compassionate when she heard me fall on the floor at the price of a full oil tank. She apologized and said she understood; she is also apparently on oil. That’s when it happened. The super adult. The old fogey. Some senior citizen jumped up my throat….. Do you know what I said?

“This is administration is killing us.”

Now, the actual statement is true only in a metaphorical sense. We are alive, but our current United States of America administration is choking out the middle class. I won’t get into whether or not I believe they’re doing it purposefully. The point is, I hung up with Kelly and just stood there, pondering which of my parents just possessed me. Oh shit, it was neither!! That was all me.

Sometimes those adult moments hit you like Mike Tyson in his prime and it hurts….

Feeling weird, dudes,

Ms. Snow

The title has absolutley nothing to do with anything. It just happens to be Thursday and I am not feeling particularly spunky….maybe funky though. I have to shower and the whole being on crutches situation is putting a damper on going up stairs. I’ll give you as many guesses as you want as to where my shower is located. Good times.

That’s ok though! Tomorrow is a shower day and it’s also my second post-op appointment. Fingers crossed they will tell me I can ditch the crutches, go back to the gym, and continue my super awesome metal life. I still have a limp and physical therapy is required to get my knee back into good working order, but let’s try to keep the optimism level a little higher than usual. I’ve been practicing a sort of forced contentment and happiness lately and while that may sound very weird, it’s kinda been working, my dudes. If you told me this was achievable even a couple months ago, I would have accused you of blowing some pretty fancy smoke signals right out your ass and up mine. Serious as gas prices right now….. if there is a stress in your life that is unhealthy, remove it!! Some stress is good and fruitful and causes us to grow as people. Some stress is a heap of stinking dogshit that gets ground into the soles of our shoes and stays there, making life reek in a most nasty way.

If you don’t know where to begin and would like a word of advice from a naturally anxiety ridden person who has been around the stress block more than once, then please allow me to throw in my paltry two cents and maybe even a nickel. Start with showing gratitude for the positive in your life, especially the people. I am a pretty hardcore introvert, but we need other people. Reach out and retain the healthy relationships that mean something to you. Everyone else that’s shady or undependable or creates discomfort with backhanded compliments or their own questionable lifestyle, shaft those jerks. I’ve been living with a list of new rules for myself lately (and maybe I’ll list them here sometime) and I think the latest one has to be :”Only allow quality individuals share your life and energy.” After the injury it became unequivically clear who is for me and who isn’t. It’s very black and white when you step back and examine the social structure you’ve created for yourself.

Anyway, kiddos, a couple friends have reached out to me during this very not groovy time and they have a place in my very cold, dark heart…..bring a blanket. One popped by for breakfast yesterday morning and we found ourselves blasting happily through french toast, maple sausages, coffee, and five hours of talking. Thanks, girl. It literally meant the world for me to see you. Another friend invited me out next week and offered to come scoop my old ass up for a little night out with the chickies. Yes, please, Miss D. You know who you are and you’re one of the best humans I know.

Respect and gratitude to all my homies,

Ms. Snow

Wow! What’s it been? Four – five months? Darn kids, I am sorry. As it sometimes happens in life, the train went off the rails, caught on fire, exploded, and the fire department just couldn’t put out the blaze.

You know what I mean. Life got busy and sticky and murky. I wasn’t focusing on things of quality, just distractions. I’m one of those sort of inconsistent people that goes through powerful spurts of fruitfulness that dip off into whatever catches my attention. Sometimes it’s just pure, friggin laziness. The entire effort goes from the might of Niagara Falls to the efficacy of a drippy back yard water hose. Do you folks know what I’m talking about? You know that jam? It’s unfortunately been my jam for some time now and I’ve been working diligently to change that, especially for the last two weeks.

So what happened? Back on Labor day, I tore my left lateral maniscus. I do not recommend. Zero stars. Avoid this, if you can, at all costs. Surgery was about two weeks ago. The following two days were some of the most excruciating physical pain of my life…..including childbirth. I am not kidding. This is not an exaggeration. If I ever hear some woman saying ever again, “Men don’t know what kind of pain we go through in childbirth. They haven’t felt real pain.” Blah, blah, blah!!!!! – I will check that misguided woman right there where she stands. You know what?? Giving birth is a unique pain, but it’s not the worst one! I never laid on a couch, unable to move or stand up, and simply cried from pain after I had my child. After the knee? Yeah, that’s pretty much what it was for 3 days afterwards. It was painful and humiliating.

Right now I’m on crutches. Most of the pain is gone, but the doctor says absolutely no walking without them for another two weeks if I want lefty to heal properly. After that, two weeks of physical therapy and then maybe I can do some normal life stuff like working and going to the gym. Ughhhhhhhhhh. The most annoying aspect of the crutches is that it takes about seven hundred and thirty six years to do EVERYTHING. Also, today was the first day I was able to drive anywhere by myself. I will warn you, friends, if you are struggling with a heavy door and are on crutches in public and other people witness the whole event they may not help you you. In fact, they might just watch the whole episode until its completion. While no one was obligated to aid me today, the short experience served to reinforce my general notion that the public at large is nothing but fucking trash.

There. Swearing always makes me feel better. I highly recommend it for both stress relief, comic relief, and casual conversation.

What this is all leading up to is that the injury has forced me to slow down whether I want to or not. And this stifling of regular activity has allowed me time to think and consider my life. It turns out I could do a lot more to reach my potential. Make my down time much more meaningful. I don’t want to be just another human turd on this rock zooming through space. There will be changes. Already I’ve made a few small ones. I’m going to keep on with it – and when these crutches come off and my physical therapy is complete, I’m going to burn this place to the fucking ground with my badassery.

Keep it cool,

Ms. Snow

Post script: I have been and will be adding to the fantasy novel on my “Winter of the Viros” page. If you’re into that sort of thing, get over there and dig on my swag. *kiss noise*

Is it really the last day though, my little sprites and sprockets?

The last day in May? Yes. The last day of attempting to hold myself accountable to living my best life? (Which might not be as exciting as other people’s best lives, but whatever.) Nope. Absolutely freaking not.

Overall score? Let’s say a solid C+ to B-. We’re gonna aim for an “A” in June. But if I want to be honest with myself, and I do because lying makes me twitch under one of my eyeballs thanks to Marie making me so fucking scared to lie when I was a kid that now I’m virtually incapable of it, we’re probably only gonna pop that grade up to a B+.

So, in the physical department, it was all good. Workouts have been longer, harder, and more consistent. Even though it’s tiring, I feel good. Out of all the workouts I had planned and logged, only one got skipped. In total, there has been five solid hours of exercise a week in addition to my regular job, which keeps me on my feet for about 6-7 hours per shift. I’ll tell you what – every single bite of the bacon cheeseburger and every single drop of that Guiness on Saturday was well fucking deserved. The psycho babble fitness experts say we’re not supposed to reward ourselves with food because we’re not dogs. Well, you can shove that advice in your crap can because I am a hungry mammal that loves food and am pretty sure that when a person rewards themselves, it’s supposed to be something pleasurable to the one being rewarded. And I choose food and alcohol, bitches.

That being said, I only allowed myself one cheat day a week with my food and most weeks it didn’t involve sugar. We have to step up that game a little bit more though. I can do better and am going to challenge myself to go down to no sugar unless it comes from fruit. I also think a few more bread and pasta carbs can go. The potatoes stay for now. Let’s not get too crazy. We’re looking to reach goals, not commit homicide. Yes, my passion for potatoes runs deep. Also, I took the “before” bikini pic and am not ready to take the “after” yet. Let’s see where we are at the end of June. I would love to get just a wee bit tighter around the middle, ya know?

What else? The writing….. not as much as I had hoped and reading even less. Grrrrrrrr! Another challenge for June. BUT!! I did do something….. I wrote a chapter for a writing contest and am submitting that at the end of this week so that was a step out of the box for me. Usually, I don’t put forth my writing in any sort of contest or public forum beyond this tiny blog. As usual, the lesson to be learned here is that getting out of the soft, warm blanket that is our comfort zone will get us a hell of a lot further and provide more satisfaction than staying all comfy and cozy in there. And I dig satisfaction. Don’t you?

Lastly, I have molted my semi-obsession with acquiring another hobby. I may still try my hand at photography because it seems fun and also do-able and I enjoy looking at things from the outside…. but not right now. Remember friends, if you’re trying to accomplish multiple things at once and find that you’re lagging behind or just outright failing – it may be too much. Don’t get me wrong. Strive for excellence. Be the best you. All that shit. Just don’t burn out doing it.

You guys are the best and I’ll have more creative material for you in June – I promise. Thank you for all the support.

❤ Ms. Snow

Greetings, fellow penny pinchers! Do you love a deal? As in, acquiring something for a more than reasonable price, a paltry pittance, a mere monetary iota. It’s crack cocaine squared, baby. And I got a major score this last weekend. Cha-ching, bitches!

Just to be clear, being frugal is awesome as long as you’re not trying to get something for nothing from everyone with a product to sell – because that’s super uncool, man, and we’re all trying to make a living out here. For example, don’t try to dicker with your local bakery over the price of bread or your favorite local coffee shop when their price per cup goes up five cents (flour and gas and everything else is expensive right now and they are probably struggling) or with the lady that owns the little silver shop and handcrafts most of her product. Can you make your own jewelry? Yes? Do it. No? Shut up about the discount you think you deserve for whatever made up reason you formulated inside your pea-brain.

There is a time and place to be thrifty just as there is appropriate time to pay full price. Next week I’m going to throw 300 – 400 bones at my tattoo artist to finish up some siiiiick work on my arm. Worth every…single…penny. Plus, a tip. Whenever I go to my hair stylist, an angel among beauty pros, I pay what she charges, add a tip, and leave feeling gorgeous every time. Again – worth it! A nice dinner out? Same. These people are providing a service that I want to be quality so I cough up the dough, bro.

Now, onto the savings!!!

For any of you who appreciate a good flea market, there is one of respectable size in Middleburgh, N.Y., the Creekside Flea Market. It is seasonal through the spring and summer on Sundays. There are tools, jewelry, antiques, cookware, new age shit, marble skulls, books, etc. One vendor had a bear skin rug if you’re into that. There was even one witchery table with hand crafted wands, one of which was shaped suspiciously like a dong. Whatever, I’m not judging.

Let me get my brag on, friends. Twenty seven American dollars and two hours in the sun is all it takes to get me jazzed up. At least, those are the current running numbers. And what, you may ask, did I purchase for twenty seven dolla bills, y’all? One, a matching collection of four mugs that match the red in my kitchen with some bronze accents. Bonus on this buy – they came in this old-timey metal carrier with a handle and lattice work around the basket. Two, a lovely pair of dangly earrings in my absolute favorite color of blue. Darker than turquoise and darker than teal and shiny. Three, a book entitled “Dictionary of Superstitions”. Since I got it used, hopefully there is no paranormal activity attached to it. Ghosts on TV – ok. Ghosts all up in my personal business – NO! Four, a heavy aluminum frying pan with three sections so three items can be cooked at once without touching. Kitchen gadgets are my jam!!!!!

Man, I love bric-a-brac!

For you lovers of the second hand, the fixer-uppers, the thrifties, and assorted trinkets – you got your number one supporter right here.

With warm affection,

Ms. Snow

The endeavor continues for self fulfillment, a sustainable lifestyle, and containing the contamination breach between my sane and insane mind to a fairly innocuous trickle. Who knows about that last one though? Who knows about any of them? Not me, sure as shit.

Fifteen days into May and this feeling resides within me that yes, I have been kicking some major ass while simultaneously not doing enough. Last time we visited, little beasts and fairies, the selection of a hobby was becoming quite a bother. It seems like the thing to do – some frivolous, but fun activity to take up free time. What could possibly be the problem in just picking something? Once again, I sure as shit have no clue. It’s very difficult being a lizard person, you know.

So what was the next step? What do we all do these days when we don’t know the answer? Well, well, well – here comes the interwebs. Once upon a time we didn’t have the interwebs, didn’t need the interwebs, and some humans have literally always had access to this techno-sorcery. That is weird to me … and I already digress here. I went ahead and looked up hobbies for introverts (on account of me dealing with people face to face all day and doing that in my free time sounds about as fun as a colonoscopy with a ghost pepper). And guess what? I had an epiphany. You know when the lightbulb clicks on above your head and all the fake, florescent illumination shines on your brain pan? It turns out, several things listed I already do on a regular basis. Exercise was one. Reading was another. Then, writing as well.

The only item listed within the 30ish options offered that reached out to tickle my soul and maybe my feet – I like my feet tickled as all lizard people do – was photography. I do have an unopened digital camera that could serve as a starter piece, if I was so inclined. Here was the epiphany though, faithful reader… According to this list, I already engage in hobbies. Is it possible that I’ve been trying to cram way too much into my life? Is it so far off base to consider that maybe nothing has been getting accomplished because my attention is being pulled in so many different directions? Holy crusty crap in a hat! Is it fucking possible that I don’t have to feel so darn guilty about chilling out for a couple hours at the end of a hard day? Because, seriously folks, I have no chill. Anyone that knows me in the real life world knows this. There is some days I may even have negative chill.

In the spirit of not burning out, we will count this as a lesson learned and perhaps not try to force any more activities into the day that simply won’t fit. I will try the photography, actually. If I like it, it will be an occasional dabble in addition to the work, exercising, reading, writing, and interminable house chores.

Are you dabbling in anything fun, kiddos? If not, I highly recommend it. Go out there and kill it.

❤ Ms. Snow

Good morning, fellow lifeforms. It’s day 10 over here in self accountability land and if there were report cards issued for this sort of thing, my average grade would be a C….maybe a B+ on a good day. Not exactly what we’re shooting for, right? Do other adults have their stuff together, their ducks in a row, all their socks matching? I don’t know, but a palpable cloud of sheer inadequacy is trolling me like an interminable fart.

Let’s start with the positive though. Numero uno – the diet and exercise is going well. As I stated before, my body seems to be the easiest thing for me to gain control over so, as expected, the marks over here are definitely B+ to maybe even an A. Last week, I got in four workouts and plan on pumping it up to 5 this week. To aid in keeping me accountable, I re-joined OrangeTheory Fitness and that will be two out of the five. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy; my hamstrings and quads are on fire and I want to die a little so it was good. I’ll just keep drinking coffee until the twitching becomes a distraction from the pain. No problem. Diet is also on track. It’s not as tight as a frog’s bumhole, but that can be changed with a couple tweaks this week. I allowed myself one cheat day on Saturday, which I was faithful in not gorging like a sugar deprived psychopath. You know what though, readers, I didn’t even enjoy the cheat that much so we’re just gonna snip that cheat day out of there. Just open the passenger door and kick that shit to the garbage littered curb. Byyyyee, see you never…. or maybe baking season.

Next, my reading and writing – uh, it’s a D for sure. Some reading happened this week, but not nearly what I wanted. If I wrote anything, it must have been in spooky, invisible ghost letters because I sure as fuck don’t see anything new except for what I’m writing right this moment. Terrible. The stank on my perseverance here is just freaking embarrassing, but I’m letting you nice folks know about it in the interest of transparency. And, as I always tell those who find themselves in my company, I have faults and vices, but lying isn’t one of them. The real problem has been that around 2-3pm every day, my energy level evaporates. It takes the first train to splitsville and returns every morning around 5am – clockwork, acting as if it didn’t abandon me the day before like I’m a half eaten hotdog with old mustard clinging to the bun. What an asshole. I’m not quite sure what the remedy to this is yet. Naps do not work for me. It exacerbates the whole situation. Extra coffee??? My caffeine intake is already next level. If I was fighting a boss battle and winning depended solely on my coffee consumption….bitch, I’ll tell you what, that boss is being decimated. I think I might try a good self help book to get my motivation grinding harder. “The War of Art” has been recommended by Joe Rogan and he is pretty damn legit. We’ll see if it’s on an audio app.

Lastly……and definitely least. I was supposed to find a hobby. Something to spice up the salad, so to speak. Yeah, no. That is a straight up F. You wouldn’t think it’s so difficult to select a hobby, would you? Well, you guys are probably normal-ish people doing normal-ish things, and thinking normal-ish thoughts, but I’m a fucking lizard person in human skin and, apparently, we don’t do well with gratuitous free time activities. I thought about starting a new video game since gaming used to be a HUGE part of my life. How huge? – you may ask. Well, here’s the answer whether you asked or not, puppy. Over two hundred hours logged on Final Fantasy X back in the day. Two hundred plus hours just on one game. Not to mention the hours I put into FFVII, FFVIII, FFIX, FFX-2…..and other games that weren’t Final Fantasy related. RPG’s are fucking serious, you guys. Motherfucking sidequests and shit. The problem here is that I end up feeling mucho guilty for just sitting there playing a game when I could be doing something constructive. Choices. Ugh. Again, if you fine folks have any input – give it to me, baby.

Let’s all do better for ourselves. Until next time,

Ms. Snow

It’s May 3rd. The day is drab and grey. The house is quiet. Two cups of coffee have been lackadaisically consumed in an effort to get the morning juices of inspiration going. Good enough.

The very first thought that springs to mind is, “I should have written a rough draft last night.”. Oops. Well, that was the first lesson of the day – some of my old habits are actually very useful habits. Rule #1 in May project – don’t just wing it! Some people are good at winging it; hell there are damn experts out there who are both adept and comfortable just flying by the seat of their pants. That is not me. I require a plan of attack, a plan for socializing, a plan for exercising, etc. Orderly environments are where I work and thrive the best. Busy is fine. Busy I can handle. As soon as circumstances become hectic….my adaptation skills start out strong, but it becomes draining very quickly. Muffins! I’m already off the rails here. See! This is why I should have written a rough draft last night instead of watching the Travel channel and staring at Instagram. Confession: I get lazy at night. Like, bad.

The May Project – born from the epiphany that although the days are full of tasks and a steady routine, nothing is actually being accomplished in the long term. Do you know what I mean, friends? Yes, I go to work. Yes, the kitchen gets cleaned. Yes, the meals get made and the laundry is done. Yes, I have a semi-stable work-out schedule. Sometimes I read. Sometimes I write. The timing on those lately is a bit jenky. Is anything getting DONE though? No. Because there has been no long term goal established in my life for a long time now. It’s an amazing, depressing, and sobering moment when the realization hits that living and existing are not the same thing. I haven’t developed an interest in any new hobbies for YEARS. Sure, I get pretty amped up to try different restaurants and that’s as far as it gets.

The very first thing I decided was that my time management skills in my personal life could be better – work is work. When I’m at work, I know exactly what I’m doing and what I’m after for the duration of my shift. Plus, I’m accountable to someone else to do my job properly, which I enjoy in a strange sort of way. Let’s not mince words, I absolutely love going into work and fucking crushing it. I like working.

There are a multitude of articles on the interwebs pertaining to time management. Many of them were directed towards the work environment, however, so I muddled through and picked out a couple useful nuggets from articles about goal setting and such. One that seemed relevant right away was realistic goal setting. The second was having specific priorities everyday. Okay. That doesn’t sound too difficult, right? Let’s do it.

My first goal is physical…..I find that is the easiest aspect of my life to control so that was immediately my jump off point. Let’s just put all the sticky, sugar coated cards on the table. I like exercising, but am what you would call a “lazy athlete”. In the past, I have run group exercise classes, was a personal trainer, spent a healthy amount of time at the local boxing gym, went on a hike every weekend (weather permitting), and ran the occasional 5k. An army vet named Randy once asked me if I was ex-military (I am not!) and it was one of the biggest compliments of my life. Part of the May project is not so much about getting as hard core as I used to be, but bringing back some of the damn discipline that I was able to hone when I was younger. I am determined not to use age as an excuse to be a sloth…..even though 41 year old me would get beat down by 31 year old me……easily. The actual attainable goal for May for my physical self? Shave off 5lbs and get my core tight again. Not too bad right? I even am doing the obligatory before and after bikini pics that will be posted at the end of the month. The worst part about this is that it involves diet. Oh, sugar and salt, you are my favorite whores……terrible, delicious, all-you-can-eat bitches. That’s ok! I have a grocery list and have already begun the no sugar endeavor. It’s not bad so far. It’s never bad the first week or two because the sense of doing something positive is so overwhelming. Oh no, it’s day 17 you gotta be scared of. Then – the real test. Also, I still have my coffee. Coffee is my companion. Coffee will take care of me. Physical goal – out of the way. Here we go.

What next? Mental fulfillment. This is where my much neglected reading, writing, and hobby experiences come into play. My answer for this to begin with is to make a simple priority list for every day. Nothing grand. For example, today’s 1, 2, 3 is writing, cleaning, and exercise in that order and I have allotted a certain amount of time to do each. Not too hard, right? Well, again, we will see how things are going on day 17 when watching the paranormal crap on TV sounds like a winning idea instead of expanding my mind. May mental goals – read for half an hour every single day; complete Winter of the Viros on this blog; find a new hobby.

The first two are fairly specific. Reading, I love, so that shouldn’t be too taxing. It’s just the simple challenge for me to relax and not feel guilty that I’m not doing a chore. The “Viros” is a book I wrote and had copyrighted years ago. It sits in my office, on paper and on a flash drive. It’s been tweaked many times over the years and submitted many more times. Here’s the thing with the literary world though….they are fickle as hell. So I did the wrong thing, the easy thing, the shithead thing – I quit. Then I started avoiding my writing altogether – the ONE thing I found that I could do pretty well at a young age. The way I express myself best was left on the side of life’s highway like a pile of trash. And I used to be that kid with a thousand notebooks, all full, front and back of every page, just happy and going for it because I fucking loved it. I love creating. I love making. Then the incredible elation that comes when someone else reads it, enjoys it, says that it’s good and to keep doing it. I even enjoyed criticism – because it made me better. What the hell actually happens to us when we become adults, friends? It’s sick, whatever it is. My mother has said in the past that I am an underachiever and that is why I avoid my talents and things at which I excel. She might be right, but Marie can still screw off.

Like I said, the first two mental goals are not that difficult to pin down – read more and finish the novel I wrote here on the blog. Skip over to the “Winter of the Viros” page later in the week if you are inclined; it would be a personal favor and fun for you, too, if you enjoy a fantasy story with swords and vampires and things. The third goal is a little murky. Find a new hobby. I am admittedly still at a loss for this one. I don’t know what the fuck I want to try! It would liven up my world experience though and I am aware that part of my problem with mustering inspiration is the atrocious boredom level going on. We will cover this one later on in the month after more thought has been put into it. All of May is ahead of us right???

If you have any hobby suggestions, friends, please feel free to sound off. Help is always appreciated when it is done in good faith. Until next time,

❤ Ms. Snow

“Dreams are – you cannot will them away, anymore than you can call them into being. You have to decide whether to act upon them or let them vanish.”

Keith Donohue – The Stolen Child

Chances are, you already know exactly who these pesky characters are. They reside somewhere in your life and you can pinpoint the distress caused by their presence. Guess what, friends? This is your one pass to be selfish in the most unadulterated sense of the word – do what is absolutely best for you and deal with these people. Sometimes it’s as easy as ejecting them from your life. No yellow flag; no red flag. You’re the ref – get their butts outta there. This is especially true with friends and aquaintances. Not a co-worker? Not a family member? Not a roommate? Those all present certain complications. So if a negative person doesn’t fall into any of these categories, ditch whatever excuses you’ve manifested out of the mist of guilt and procrastination. Troublesome rejects don’t deserve your time, your attention, or rent free room in your head. Farewell, y’all!

Liars. Gaslighters. Enablers. Users. Think of anyone who makes you feel invalidated when you’re in serious distress. Picture anyone who tries to manipulate with backhanded slights dressed as compliments or makes unkind criticisms that are not constructive in any way. Straight up – these dicks can find a skanky crevice and get totally fucked. There are people that always take more than they give. Do you have a “friend” who is constantly late to meet up with you or cannot be troubled to respond to any correspondence when it comes from your end? Is there someone who reveals information when you’ve divulged it in confidence? GET…RID…OF…THEM! These maniacs usually compensate for their general shittiness with other traits that appear positive until you scratch the surface. Maybe they are hilarious and are adept at busting guts – honestly, it’s difficult to be pissed at somebody that makes you laugh, right? Or perhaps they’ll do a “big favor” for you once in awhile, which guilts you into tolerating their douchebaggery. Let’s just come out and say it – that is one shoddy friendship, if you can even call it that at all. Take out the trash.

Now, the complicated categories. Co-workers. Let’s keep this one simple and brief. Are you able to distance yourself from this person during work? Yes – do it. No? Can you change shifts? If yes – do it. No again? Speak politely, discreetly, and professionally to a manager or owner about it. You never know, other people may have the same complaints as you. If this action is not fruitful and this co-worker is causing incredible strife in your daily existence, start looking for another job. Simple as that. Please, don’t come out with “I can’t just get another job.”. The hell you can’t. There is plenty of work to be done in this world. Embrace change or confront the toxic motherfucker making your life suck eggs at work.

Roommate? Confront them or move. That’s it. Yes, I am entirely serious. That’s the sage advice. Do you want to fix the situation or not? Take a shot of whiskey and get your shit together.

Family. Oh, this one is the real issue. Negative, dishonest, unsavory people can and sometimes do exist right within our inherited circle and depending on how close we are to these individuals, it is possibly one of the most wretched feelings in the world. If it’s a situation in which the entire family has reached the consensus that a particular family member cannot be trusted or taken seriously, that would make it a little easier to cope with. At least other people would be in your corner should a problem arise with this person. But what if it’s a more one on one relationship and this pain in the ass loved one is downright toxic, manipulative, dishonest, narcissistic, etc.? Pick your poison. Perhaps they are a grimy cocktail of all these nasty traits.

Okay, champs – this is where I get into my own personal experience and what I’ve garnered from it. My mother. She is the one person that had to be distanced from me both physically and emotionally for complete peace of mind – the peace isn’t quite complete in all honesty, but it’s getting there. The absolute worst part about the situation is that my mother’s harmful nature was so elusive and so goddamn pernicious that I couldn’t identify it or face up to it until I was well into adulthood. And, let’s be for real here, by the time we’re grown ups the damage is done – it’s fucking engrained. Better late than never to fight the seeping negativity though. Now, I should probably delve into some specifics here. There’s no fairness in simply declaring the woman who gave birth to me is an asshole. That is not helpful to myself or to anyone reading this who may be looking for a little empathy and understanding and maybe guidance for their own situation. Let’s go- We’re going to talk about Marie.

Growing up, there was a sense that my mother was doing the wrong things. But she had such a way of acting “normal” ninety-five percent of the time, everyone thought things were fine – including myself. And the reason is that she wasn’t a piece of shit the rest of the time. She never beat me. She always encouraged and rewarded good grades. Books were always in the house to read. She taught me how to bake and talked to me and played games with me and told me I should persue my talents and interests. Sounds pretty good right? Most would say that outlines a decent if not wonderful childhood. And you know what? Sometimes it was.

What about the other five percent of the time though? You see, even if a person’s life is mostly impeccable that one ounce of poor behavior can put a wrecking ball through all the good times and all the people around them.

Marie was a cheater. Maybe she was fucking mental and couldn’t help herself. As an adult, I catch her in small, strange lies whenever (on the rare occasion) we speak on the phone. Her marriage to my biological father didn’t last; they divorced when I was a toddler. There were a string of boyfriends between my father and Mark – husband number two. Mark was an amazing dad – I won’t even call him a stepfather because he was so much more than that. He transcended that word and was just a full on dad. Maybe I’ll write a blog just on him someday. Today is unfortunately Marie’s day. Suffice it to say that he was a wonderful man that provided for us, loved us, would do anything for us. She was cheating on him at the beginning of the marriage with a state trooper named John that she had been seeing before she met Mark. He came to our house a couple times while Mark was at work and I vividly recall my mom standing at the doorway once while he was leaving and flashing one of her legs at him from under her nightgown. I always remember John because while they were dating, he was fond of smoking a pipe and once tried to make me eat cold peas at the dinner table because I didn’t want to finish my meal. He wore glasses and a pencil thin mustache. He was also married to a lady named Barbara – so winners all around here, motherfuckers.

Mark never suspected and as a five/six year old, I couldn’t completely comprehend the situation. So Marie got away with that one. Later on, I suspected she was sleeping with another man named Pat that our family only saw when we went on camping trips, but I have no proof and witnessed nothing but a lot of flirting. By then, I was old enough for that to bother me.

Then came Larry – Jesus jumped up Christ – this fucking clown. First of all, this guy didn’t have a thing on Mark. He was just this weird, goofy dude that managed KB toys in the mall where my mother also worked. Once, she brought me to his house and left me dowstairs to play with his kids while they went upstairs to fool around. After that, I don’t remember her even trying to conceal the affair with any kind of eloquence. When Mark finally confronted her about it, she denied everything and I got to lay in bed and listen at night while my mother made tearful proclomations like, “I live for you.”, lying right to his face when even I knew the truth. She did one of those “attempted suicide” situations and I was put into a foster home at the age of 11 – maybe 12 – not exactly sure what the year was.

Marie now lives with her third husband many miles away from my location. I think we’re going to put a pin in this subject for today because it is still strenuous and painful to dwell on, but I just wanted to demonstrate how the poor actions of one close family member can completely crush everyone around them and impress upon anyone who needs to know this – it is ok to surgically remove them from your inner circle and have as little interaction with them as you deem fit. Personally, I go months without speaking to my mother – and have come to a point where I do not miss her. I attempted to resolve it once, years ago. I began by telling her that some of the things that happened in my childhood – all the moving around, for one – really messed me up. What was the first thing out of her mouth?

“Well, you turned out to be a well rounded person.”

That was the official and dead end in our relationship – on my end anyway. There was nowhere else to go. We will do a “Marie Part 2”, especially for those of you struggling with mother issues. There was so much more damage, so many more issues with this woman. But let’s save a second helping for another time.

Take care my lovies,

Ms. Snow