Tuesday, March 13

freedom....

...At last. This week, I have been unchained from domestic slavery, and from the strains of having to be good and meek and too accepting of people’s glacial treatment. So sod it! as the brits would say… First the yaya came back in one piece. How relieving to finally look at an empty laundry basket, smell the fresh sheets outdoors, and appreciate having the walls back to their spotless state again. Because I swear, tried as I might to move around like a bionic superwoman, with two jumpy kids, and a day job I can’t afford to stay away from, I was only indeed as superwoman of two minds as I could get. One mind wants to give way, and one mind wants to give up. So yaya business restored to its normal sway …equals a happy blogging mommy.

Well the other freedom I’m talking about is being able to survive the ice age in the 21st century. In retrospect, it’s all your own doing. You give yourself up for other people. You set aside your emotions, to house them in the center of it all. Their turbulence and their trouble is yours. You listen to their thoughts, you share your thoughts, but mostly you just listen. And understand. You give them the rein, to say what they want, to do what they want. You applaud when they most need encouragement. And you cry with them, when they most need sympathy. You were being a good sidekick. An efficient PA. A genius girlfriday.

And then they break your heart. Just like that. These people that you call Friends, or sometimes in a state of being capricious, Boss. And one day, they treat you so coldly and without the slightest regard, and you wonder where you failed them. You think, rather helplessly, had I not been a funny sidekick? Had I not been an obliging PA? Am I not good enough?

And it dawns on you, and you learn to accept. That you are not. Good enough. So, face it. Time to move on. Time to go out in the sunshine. Time to seek the warmth in the tropics. Time to burn yourself up and resurrect from the ashes. Time to lock it up. And let it rot in the cobwebs! To the bowels of the earth! And the deepest recesses of your cursed soul! With the scums of the universe! Sod it! Forever! La la la la…..
Being free takes a lot of pluck and a good dose of to-hell-with-them attitude. And I guess I cinched it. Today, I smile at the prospect of meeting up with my next emotional and domestic challenge. And I say..... to hell with it!



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