Wednesday, February 14, 2018

I suck.

Everyone knows I’m a little crazy.


Or a lot.


Pick one and move on.


I’m too aggressive, I have zero filter, I swear too much, I’m too demanding, I blow through deadlines and promised due dates like they’re yellow lights and I’ve gained thirty pounds of what my coach Jay says is likely me just ‘getting high on my own supply’.


I’ve been making a lot of cookies, okay?! 


Fuck.


Anyway. Deadlines.


They suck. I suck. And together, we suck harder than a Hoover that needs a revolve and a dirty floor.


Whatever.


I’d be late to my own fucking funeral.


Part of this is that despite being an uncontrollable raging bitch, I can’t seem to tell people to fuck off. I hate asking for shit and I despise saying no.


So when it was “let’s do something for _____” I’m always FUCK YEAH LET’S DO THIS! 


and then it’s “would you be able to come to ____ for ______ during _________?” and I do the whole FUCK YEAH LET’S DO THIS! thing again.


The problem here isn’t that the world is full of cool shit I’d like to do but rather that it’s full of really awesome stuff I can’t say no to. “Wanna be part of _________?” FUCK YEAH LET’S DO THIS!


And then I blow through deadlines and don’t respond to emails because I’m actually eating cookies in bed while snuggling my cats and getting a massage from someone named Aiden while completely blowing everything off.. I’m literally doing this right now.


I missed a spin workout with someone I love and adore tonight because I was napping in the sunshine after a lunch of mimosas. (There was no mimosas or sunshine or lunch today. I was actually working. And it sucked.) But I got the mail.


... Still haven’t replied to those emails yet. 


I have a lot of personal character flaws. I get it. But the thing is... I do get it. I know I suck. In fact, I’m probably harder on myself than most folks understand or can comprehend, and if you think I’m a dick on the internet, you should hear what I say to me.


I’m hyper critical. I look to closely at things. I care too much. I want to help. I have a massive heart and a critical brain that’s melting out of my ears and I forgot a lot of shit.


Hell, I’m balls-deep in a cookie E-book that was literally due to a paying audience exactly a month ago to benefit kids' bike charities and I’m writing this tripe instead of working on it because my brain is numb and so is my ass and there is very little in the world of quantum mechanics that sucks as much as writing a bunch of goddamn recipes. But I love it. I care about it. And I’ll go back to it in the morning. Or afternoon. Or... whatever. Don’t judge me.


But if you’re reading this, go ahead and give yourself a little bit of love today. Just extend some fucking compassion to you. If you need a bit of tequila to do it, fine. If you need a lot of tequila to do it, even better. Take a deep breath, eat a donut and tell yourself that you’ll get to it in the morning. 


Then again, don’t take my advice because I’m terrible.