So Talk About It…

I’m so tired of women bemoaning the fact that “no one ever talks about women’s issues like menopause, hormones, libido, you know… all that shit we’ve been told isn’t “polite.”

Sure… I likely wouldn’t sit down and dish on it at a family dinner … Well, maybe *I* would, but I am not your average bear.

But, here we are… we are amongst our friends, so spill…

Why don’t we talk about this?

I know, for me, it’s because I’m tired of not hearing good answers. If I have to hear one goddamn more time how “every woman is different…” I may lose my mind. We are all very well aware of this. We are looking for your experiences and your answers when we ask the question, not placation.

You know, in not sharing your story with your younger friends, your daughters, your female family members, you are missing out on meaningful connections with them. Imagine the power of sisterhood on that level. Imagine teaching young women that there is nothing to fear.

Don’t get me wrong… I really hate how today feels. I’m angry as fuck for no logical reason, and I’d just as soon punch someone as hug them. But that’s the nature of the beast, is it not? I know this is cyclic. I know that tomorrow or the next day, my hormones will level out again, and I will be back to being a ray of fucking sunshine.

I skipped last month. I’m pretty excited about that.

A. Because there’s no way in hell that I could possibly be pregnant.

B. Because I’m stepping closer to the end of all this horse shit.

All of the symptoms arrived like clockwork, though. The body aches, the cramps, the mood swings, the bloating. It was all there. No better, no worse than any other time.

Except for this salad. I’m angry as fuck that this salad that I bought at the gas station SUCKS!!

yeah, yeah… what did I expect? Shut up.

Now I have to go find something real to eat to wash the taste of disappointment out of my mouth.

Maybe that’s why no one ever talks about it. When they get ready to begin the conversation, they get hungry.

Let’s run with that.

For Money

Week 2 of the Daily Om writing course involves work.

For money, I am an insurance follow up representative in the billing department of a very large, world-renowned hospital system. That should make me proud. In actuality, it does not. To be perfectly frank, I have never worked in such a … well … toxic environment, and that really says something.

See, I started this job after the pandemic introduced itself to the world, so I’ve been working from home since day one. I’ve never experienced their “in office” environment, but if it’s anything like the “at home” environment… let’s just say I’m going to have to actively pursue other avenues.

Most of my adult life was spent in the medical billing field. I gained all of my experience from a good company that cared both about their patients and about the people who run their processes and make things happen… you know, the workers. Every day I worked there, I felt valued, appreciated, and like what I had to say mattered. Where I’m at now? I have none of these things. In fact, it’s not a matter of simply not having them. Personally, I’d call it less than zero. In my world, that is a possibility.

Life tends to sling shit around, so, for the sake of practicality and for the sake of my sanity, I had to leave the job. I walked away from a great paycheck, excellent benefits, people I loved being around, and feeling cared about. Sure, I was a cog in the machine, but I was well-oiled and tended to. Any accumulated grease and grime were of my own doing, and they had a lot more to do with me and my own personal issues than they had to do with what I did to make money.

When I left that job, I took some time off to see if I could figure out what I truly wanted to do. I ended up working technical support for a huge company. I spent exactly one year of my life walking retail workers through the process of restarting their cash registers. For a lot of reasons, it simply wasn’t my thing. See… in the medical field, sure I was billing outrageous sums to people who may or may not be able to pay, but in the daily battle with insurance companies and with the “powers that be,” I, more often than not, was left feeling like I was genuinely able to help others, so I decided to go back to that.

Currently, I’m left wondering if that was the grandest idea I’ve ever had. Not because the specifics of the job don’t resonate with me, but because of where I am.

People and their attitudes about other people and life, in general, matter. You’re never going to have a good and easy time in life when you encourage adversarial relationships with people and entities who can make your lives easier or more difficult depending on your approach.

There are a lot of avenues to this “work” topic I’d like to explore, so there will probably be several posts for it. For now, I’m tired of writing and am struggling for words. This is the last day of my long weekend, and I don’t want to spend it bemoaning what I’ve lost and dreading what I get to go back to tomorrow.

Have a great Sunday!

Stick A Fork In Me

I knew today would be fun. When I say “fun,” mind you, I mean the 180 degree opposite of the textbook definition of “fun.”

Now that we have that clear…

I’m tired.

I’m cranky.

I’m a bit lonely.

I’m tired of being broke all the time.

I’m tired of the people who will say “me too” to that last one but still have the ability to make changes in their lives.

I’m tired of staying home all the time, yet there isn’t any place I want to go.

Winter always gets to me.

I’m constantly cold.

There’s this “thing” in my head that I can’t quite put my finger on, but it is the source of my displeasure and discontent. I don’t know how to figure out what it is, turn it around, and make it work for me instead of against me.

I don’t even have a clear thought for this blog? How’s that?