All Apologies? Or No Apologies?

Part of me, the NICE part, feels I should apologize for my last post.
But another part of me, the sick-of-being-nice part, says "No way!  You wrote what you felt, and that's ALL valid, dude!"
That second part feels like a cross between The Dude (Lebowski), my therapist, and Elaine Stritch.

Because I AM sick of being nice.  Not of being kind, but being nice to the point where others (sometimes literally) walk all over me (I wish I were kidding).

I believe in being nice to people as a general rule.  But there's a line that has to be drawn.  Let's say a waitress gets my order wrong.  There's no need to be mean: I can politely point it out.  After all, she's on her feet all day for crappy pay and holds hundreds of orders in her head.  I tried waitressing once.  I was horrible at it.  I admire people who can do it.  It's HARD work!
However, if said waitress were to yell at and insult me, and then, say, push my face into the food, well, the time for niceties would be over, missy!

But seriously, it doesn't nave to go that far.  Sometimes I need to be a squeakier wheel.  Sometimes ya just gotta be more aggressive.  And, yes, because I'm female, I will be called a bitch.  It's happened many times.  I've survived.  Hell, sometimes I AM a bitch!  Because I have to be!

I'm also realizing that, really, truly: for the most part, other people's opinions don't matter.  If it is someone I care about and/or someone whose opinion will make a difference, then, yes, their opinion matters.  But that is usually only a small percentage of the opinions we hear on a daily basis.  Most of the opinions we hear are from strangers.  Especially if we're on social media and are "brave" enough to read the comments.
Which I now try to avoid.  Because EVERYONE there has an opinion.  And the majority of them are stupid.
Just my opinion.  ;)

Sometimes, though, I even have to discount the opinions of people I love.  Because I have to do what I believe is best. I've lived for a long time trying to please EVERYONE, and have pleased no one.  Least of all myself.

So.
No apologies then.  For that last post, at least. It is, after all, my blog.

In happier news, we took a quick trip to Yosemite over the weekend.  Always a great way to recharge the batteries.  Still no snow, and very warm temperatures, but the water levels were a bit higher than last year.

And last night I dreamed that I was at some sort of celebration attended by many of my favorite fictional characters:  Sherlock and John were there from the new BBC adaptation, but so were Holmes  (in the guise of Richard E. Grant, if for no other reason than I love him) and Watson, in Victorian garb.  All of the Doctors Who from the new series were there.  But the absolute BEST part is that when 12 appeared, his companion was...ME!
And I was super-helpful and smart and brave, I must say!  Because there was some sort of trouble (I don't remember what, exactly), and I ended up having to crawl around on the roof and fiddle with wires.
All while not losing sight of my kids, who were also there.
Haven't seen many companions do THAT!

So, thank you, subconscious!

OK, on that note, I'm gonna motor.  Both kids are off today, but Hubby has rehearsal.  And WG is off all week.  So it's gonna be busy.

Happy happy!

The Butt of the Joke?

I just found out that the medical center where I had my last two tests (one for Lyme disease, the other for skin cancer) suddenly shut down last month.  I'm waiting to hear if I can still get my results, as the center declared bankruptcy and all of the medical records are sealed, awaiting a court hearing.

I also realized that this type of thing happens A LOT.  Not so much to the people around me, but to me.  I try not to have a victim mentality, but lately I cannot help but feel like the butt of some vast, universal joke.
Was it something I did in a past life?  Is it because I haven't asked the universe for the "right" things?  Is it just my luck?
Look, I know plenty of folks have it a whole lot worse than I do.  But it just seems like there has been a conspiracy to NOT let me have little (and sometimes big) things that I want and/or need.
I've been trying very hard lately to be positive, to have a new attitude.  To NOT sink into the old quagmire of depression and anxiety.  I've been tapping, meditating, counting my (many, many) blessings.  I've been trying to focus my attention and energy (what there is of it, lol!) onto the things I want.
I don't think those things are selfish or outlandish.  For the most part, they're doable.  But it feels like I keep running into roadblocks and brick walls, and have been doing for as long as I can remember.  Some are small, some seem insurmountable.
So if the universe has this wonderful grand plan for me, as, I keep hearing, it does for us all, WHAT IS IT?!?!?!?! I'm so tired of games and puzzles and having to figure everything out on my own.  I could use some help.  If, in fact, I've been on the wrong path for 45 years, then WHAT is the correct one?  HOW MANY TIMES do I have to ask for guidance? Is there even one path I'm meant to be on? Or is it all just vast emptiness out there, and we have to muddle along on our own?
Am I just doomed to wake up at 4 AM every so often, panicked and teary, begging for help when none is forthcoming?

I know now just how deep my feelings of insecurity, guilt, and unworthiness run.  I understand that, according to some schools of thought, the fact that I have never truly believed I deserve good things has meant that I focus on the negative, and that's what the universe has given me.  I'm still not sure if I believe that or not.  But I know I'm tired of all that worry and guilt and the waiting for the other shoe to drop.  It's exhausting!
And, yes, I also know I'm a product of my upbringing, and that the lessons we learn in childhood are incredibly hard to let go of.  So when you grow up hearing "What makes YOU so special?  Why should YOU succeed where so many others have failed?  Why do YOU deserve happiness/success/good fortune?" You take it in and it becomes a big part pf your psyche.
And even when you do succeed, there is guilt, because you are proving them all wrong. Those people who loved and raised you and truly did the best they could.  They were, after all, products of their own upbringing, and honestly thought they were protecting you from being hurt.    They believed, and they taught you to believe, that if you don't expect too much, you won't suffer disappointment, and sometimes you'll be pleasantly surprised.  That that's the best you can hope for.

They were wrong, of course.  But they didn't know that.  And neither did I, for a very long time.
But I know better now, so I think it's time for things to start going my way a little bit more.

Do I have Lyme disease?  Probably not, but I'd like to know for sure.  How about skin cancer? These are questions that I need (and deserve) answers to, and would like to get those answers without having to jump through a million hoops.
Again.

So I'm putting it out there: I need answers.  Sooner rather than later, preferably.

And I'd like all those hoops to go away.  I'm tired.  I don't want to jump through them all anymore.

I want the good things.  Not the expensive, materialistic stuff, just the Good Stuff.

I believe I have earned them, and that I deserve them.