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.
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.