I am the woman who impatiently mutters, “Hurry the fuck up.” to a slow poke crawling below the speed limit. I am also the woman who almost always instantly realizes that I’m actually frustrated, because I’m running late to wherever it is I’m trying to be on time for, because I suck at time management. I can blame my poor time management skills on a plethora of different reasons. ADHD/OCD/anxiety type symptoms, single mommying two toddlers, sleep deprivation, physical pain, emotional stresses, blahdy-dee fucking blah. They’re all just glorified excuses. I don’t get to bed on time, wake up feeling semi-refreshed, and then lay in bed ignoring reality to play on Facebook to purposely be late for work. That’s stupid, and trust me when I say that right now, I’m incredibly hyper aware of leaving on time every morning, even if that means someone’s hair doesn’t get brushed or another toddler has to be insulted by the fact that mommy grabbed applesauce and not a granola bar for the car ride into town.
Perspective. I don’t want someone to believe my lack of time management skills means my job isn’t incredibly important to me. I need to re-earn their respect in that specific area. I’m genuinely working on it.
I’m 32 years old, and I’m still learning.
My heart still breaks, and then is glued, sometimes poorly taped, back together on an almost daily basis.
I’m mesmerized by owls that fly almost directly into my car. I find magic in authentic conversations. When someone smiles at me, and their entire body language screams that they are tuned into me and my needs, my mind goes into a fury of mixed signals wanting to smile in joy, sigh in relief, hug it out, jump up and down in excitement, and cry because someone sees. me. I debate with myself on a multitude of yes, no, maybe so’s, and then push forward to offer a sincere hug or a simple, “Hello, my name is Miranda.” served with a half smile and a genuine want to meet someone where they are. Sometimes, keeping eye contact is incredibly hard for me when I’m living in my head. If I’ve recently made a mistake or am vigilantly fighting the anxiety demons in my head, I don’t want to look at anyone. I feel like they can read my failures a mile away. Other times, I’m on fire and seek to see all of everyone. I notice the way other people walk, talk, and bullshit. Some people are great story tellers. They live to tell stories, but more often than not, it’s other people’s stories. It’s a way to get the lime light off of the intimacy that truly pierces their own souls.
Apathy can sting so much harsher than any criticism ever could. They’re fighting their own demons…
I feel like every person I come into contact with is basically different versions of me. Head Centered Randa vs Fire Randa. I don’t mean that selfishly, like I know that I have no idea about the struggles of a physically disabled person or your curly haired, sweet natured mama who grew up down the road. I mean it in the sense that I’m incredibly empathic, and even though I get pissed off or upset like everyone everywhere, I can normally (although not always in the moment) put myself in their metaphorical shoes to view the world from their vantage point.
I realized 6 hours too late that I forgot to do something for a customer. Then it clicked into place that I received a 10% tip because of my own doing. I recognized the awkward facial expression exchange at the table, but I had no idea what was going on, because my customer’s request had slipped my mind. I learned a lesson. In efficiency. And in time management. To slow down and pay attention to detail in the moment.
The same could be said for the puzzle that is our lives. You could be in my metaphorical shoes. Please don’t forget the blinging socks. Anyway, me…longing for intimate connections everywhere, uninterested with small talk, striving to do better, finding happiness in joy, in simplicity, and even acknowledging a little sadness, because it feels like life is somehow always missing that crucial spark that a life partner could possibly bring.
Would you get all of that by glancing my way? If I were in my head, and you were in a hurry, your thought process would probably be, “Oh, Miranda’s in a mood. Stay away from her.”. So basically, we’d both still be in our heads, needs left unmet.
I have friends with terminal illnesses fighting. to. live.
I have friends who look normal to the untrained eye, who long. to. die.
I have married friends who worry about their partner’s fidelity.
I have friends who are married who openly engage outside of their partner’s comfort zones.
I have friends living with invisible illnesses.
I have friends who live life blissfully unaware of life outside their privilege filled upbringing.
Have you ever tried to shove a puzzle piece into place not realizing at first that it didn’t actually fit? That’s life. We all have our place, but sometimes we try really hard to blend into color schemes that don’t quite match. You can turn the piece around, or keep it in your hand for safe keeping. Truthfully, often, the confusion needs to be put aside. Pieces interlock accordingly, not always chronologically or even logically. Mystical sea creatures found only within the clouds and the canvas the volcano’s fiery depths portray are different views of the very same scene.