Questions of a Political Nature

So a woman has broken the marble ceiling. Go Nancy! I guess. I mean I think it’s awesome that she has risen to a point where no other has thus far in our nation’s history. It’s always cool to be the first person to do anything. Especially on the hill, to be a woman, voted to the highest seat in the Senate by her peers. That rocks!

But once we get past the inspiration of newness, what next? I mean, what sort of leader will she be? Will she feel continually that she has to prove she has the same size balls as her cohorts or will she relax into her position and allow the merits that got her to this post to truly shine? Will she lead or will she threaten? Will she be empowered or just a figurehead?

Those are the questions we should all be asking I think. Not just of ourselves, but of her. Directly. No more sound bytes. No more pictures (especially not with Doug Lamborn!). Let’s make her start talking about what she was elected to do, her job.

Swept Under the Rug

I am being swept under the rug and forgotten about. And let me tell you how crappy that feels. I want to cry and throw things at the same time. I want to scream and curl up into a little ball and disappear.

I know I shouldn’t care. This job was one of the most toxic, draining and dead end ordeals I’ve ever been a part of. I was never appreciated. I was never trusted. I was never engaged. I was always taken for granted. I was always questioned. I was always overlooked.

But the board chair just sent out an email to the readership about the annual meeting. He mentioned in one sentence that the board had decided to eliminate my position. In the next “very exciting” sentence he announced that one of the board members had agreed to step in as the interim Director. That was a very definite swipe of the broom across my forehead. It hurt. A lot.

I know I shouldn’t care. But I do. This is my integrity they are seriously fucking with here. I made the conscious decision to stick with this organization even after I knew it would be fruitless. I stayed because I thought I could make a difference and help the organization rise to be a functional and impactful member of our community. I drug them kicking and screaming into at least the mid-90’s as I couldn’t get them to come any further.

And what do I do now? When I see these people around town? Do I look them in the eye and tell them good luck and wish them well? Do I take them out back and kick their ridiculously stupid asses back to where they came from? Do I ignore them completely? How do I function without this affecting me? How do I not take this personally?

I’m angry. I’m sad. And no one around me gets that. Everyone thinks I should be doing cartwheels and jumping jacks over rainbow covered daisies to finally be free from this job. Right now, I’m not. Right now I’m angry and I’m sad and I’m lost.

Maybe that’s where I should be. Lost. Then that will force me to keep moving and force me to find my way. Force me to keep getting up every day and being creative and engaging my life. Thank god I have a 3-year old that won’t let me get away with anything less.

New Year's Reflections

Here I sit on New Year’s Day 2007. And I’m retrospective, as is to be expected I suppose. I just got laid off, five days before Christmas. And I’m feeling really conflicted about it. Part of me is really angry and hurt that the organization I gave almost 18 months of my life to has essentially swept me under the rug and forgotten about me. Part of me is really grateful as now maybe I won’t have headaches everyday and I can reinvest in my kids, I’ve been missing them a lot lately.

And so I find myself, once again, at some sort of crossroads. I could get my resume up to date and start applying for jobs again. Probably wouldn’t take too much time to find one. But I don’t really want to. What I really want to do is start applying to grad schools to start an MFA in writing. What I really want to do is go to play dates with my friends so that our children can play and I can be with like-minded women. What I really want to do is revise my life so that it’s healthier and more positive. What I really want to do is the absolute opposite to what will make me feel safe and secure and make sure that my family is financially safe and secure.

So I’m asking myself, which is more important. Having that financial safety or my family having a wife and mother who is sane and present and happy? Of course the resounding answer is the latter, but I’ve not quite figured out how to explain that to our mortgage company.

For months everyone around me has been telling me to just trust and take a leap of faith. That the universe will take care of me and that I will always be exactly where I am supposed to be. And it appears that since I couldn’t make myself take that leap, the universe went ahead and shoved me off the cliff. Because here I am, putting one foot in front of the other hoping that here is still something solid under my feet with every step.

There’s a bit of freedom in that not knowing. But I think it could turn quickly into a dangerous type of freedom. The “I don’t care about anything anymore” kind of dangerous. I’m predisposed to that kind of danger I’ve learned. So I have to keep moving, I have to keep doing something. So here I am. Writing on New Year’s Day to keep myself moving. To keep the freedom positive and active.

So here I am.