Tag: Musings

Same Stuff Different Day

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I’m still nursing. People come in and sit around fidgeting while they wait for their issues to be diagnosed. Sometimes, when appropriate I make them laugh. I relate to them. I let them know that this isn’t anything that any of us really want to deal with.

In my head, as all nurses do, I diagnose them: rheumatoid arthritis, liver problems, diabetes. I don’t say anything even when they begin to share their ailments because we all take the vow not to diagnose people. No matter how much training we have we aren’t skilled enough to diagnose people.

It’s the same. I’m not a doctor. I’m not a mechanic. I don’t tell them that I think that their brakes are bad or that what they’re describing sounds like their power steering pump is going out.

I use my training to  let trained people do what they are trained to do and when they give me the go ahead I break the bad news. I sit next to people or I stand behind the counter, depending on what the customer needs. I try to break it to them easily, gently. No one wants to hear that their compressor, the heart of the ac system isn’t working. No one wants to hear that because they didn’t come in for their regularly scheduled check ups a simple thing has gotten out of control and they now need a new rotor, transmission, engine.

I’m still nursing. I left nursing but I am still nursing. Still taking care of people.

How You Learn To Hate Yourself or When I Realized That My Lips Were Big

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So I just posted a selfie on IG and when I looked at it I realized how large my lips were. Funny thing: I have never thought that my lips were large. I’ve never paid them any attention except to apply some Chapstick. If you know me you know lipstick is such a rare occasion that I don’t even own any.

Anyways, I never thought of how large my lips were until there was this huge racist uproar on MAC Cosmetics IG. And even then I didn’t say anything. I guess I just sort of absorbed it.

That selfie made me think of all of the parts of my body that I’ve thought were too much. And when exactly that happened, like my breasts… They became too large when it was cooler to have smaller perky breasts. Anything larger than a hand full was too much. That’s what the media has shown us for so long. Until getting larger boobs became a thing. Even then the media loves those perky fake ones over us heavy full breasted girls.

I know I know you’re like Adrien what are you talking about but this is how women especially black women begin to internalize hatred for aspects of themselves. I don’t hate my lips but now I know that they’re large. *shrugs* Now I know they match my Michael Jackson Nose.

Also,  I keep seeing my “social media friends” mention how they are so over the talk about racism and this and that and why don’t black people get over things that happened in the past.

Sidebar: Acknowledge your privilege. You can turn it off.

But the reason we can’t just get over it, whatever IT is, is because the past is today. It’s because being a black woman in America means that at any given moment a portion of your body can become unacceptable, too much, and ugly while it is lauded and applauded after someone else purchases it.

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Adrien’s Adventures in Home Ownership 07.18.15

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I did it!!!!

Last Thursday I achieved one of the things that a large number of Americans want to achieve: I purchased my first home. It’s been a very interesting process. I’ve had what seems like millions of conversations with various home owners and none of those conversations prepared me for this journey. It has been surreal.

Today was moving day. I can’t even count the amount of times that I have moved over the years but moving into your forever home has a vastly different feel than the feelings of moving into a new apartment. I woke up at five am and begin flitting through the house excitedly while I waited for my movers to arrive.

Moving day taught me a few things:

No matter how much you prepare you will forget something.

– Usually one of the most important things on your list. In my case it was the power drill which I really needed to drill the legs onto my new couches and toilet bowl cleanser.

There are some amazing people in this world.

– The College Hunks who moved my junk actually took the time to help my son assemble our mailbox before rushing off until their next appointment. My electrician helped DJ assemble the couches after discovering that we didn’t have a drill. He moved the power cord for the stove so that he could push the stove back making it flush with the wall. He also made the stove level after discovering that the Sear’s delivery men basically dropped the items off, did the bare minimum, and high tailed it out of here.

Some people are only looking to do the bare minimum.

– I  had two deliveries from Sears today, a mattress for the master bedroom, and a refrigerator and stove. Both times the delivery guys came in, placed my items down as quickly as possible, and jetted out after getting quick signatures. What they don’t know is I had planned to tip all of them. They didn’t get the gratuity because they didn’t deserve it but also because I barely had time to ask questions before they ran away. Maybe they had busy schedules. Maybe they wanted to get home to their families. Either way a few extra minutes would’ve equaled  a few extra dollars in their pockets.

Those dollars ended up with the most deserving person though: My electrician. I forgot to mention that he straightened my doorknob (unscrewed the knob and made it level) because it was slightly off-center and “Getting on my last nerve. You may not notice it but I do.” There are definitely angels on this earth.

FLEAS: I have found at least six fleas in this house. I know they didn’t come from the new furniture. We noticed a few before the deliveries started arriving and kind of brushed it off but after everything was situated and we sat down to eat we noticed a few more. We don’t have carpets, or animals, and we didn’t have any at the other house. I also didn’t notice them during any of my walk throughs, during the inspection, or any of the other times that I have been to this house. I have no idea where they came from but I do know that I can’t call the office and request pest control. I am officially maintenance, security, pest control, the manager, and all other duties that arise.

*CHALLENGE ACCEPTED*

Lastly I was reminded that if you don’t freak out at the first sign of trouble you can think clearly and the Universe will provide for you as it always does. I needed to be at both houses today on three different occasions and between pushing the car to the speed limit, awesome repair and installation people, and great timing I managed to meet every delivery person, be here long enough for every installation, and manage the movers at both houses. Most of these things were happening at two places simultaneously.

*Cues I am a God*

Stay tuned, I’m tired and I feel like I’m rambling but I plan to keep you guys updated on this home ownership journey.

Special Thanks to College Hunks Hauling Junk, Wayne the electrician, and Verizon for the superb patience and way above and beyond service. And to Kelly Parks of Keller Realty for the gift card that helped me purchase my stove and refrigerator.

Also to my neighbor slash homey/lover/friend Mo for coming through with the flea bombs. Something tells me where there are six there are more.

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My plant Alice. I named her after my great grandmother. Keep your ancestors close. They help ground you.

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College Hunks do more than just haul junk.

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How many people does it take to put together a mailbox? At least five.

Wayne the electrician.

Wayne the electrician.

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New fridge and stove from Sears Outlet.

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DJ would you like to use a drill?

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Delivery equals bringing items to your home and plopping them down as quickly as possible. -Note to self ask what that delivery fee covers.

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Wayne The Great

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These Hunks were awesome!

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DJ unloading the car.

A Change of Shift

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It is pretty much a guarantee that as we age those who were caregivers will trade places with those who were formerly in their care. The child becomes the “parent” is a phrase that I’ve heard frequently throughout my nursing career. I’ve actually uttered it on more than one occasion while trying to help someone cope with the change of roles between they and their parents. Of course I knew that my day would eventually come but no matter how much you think about a thing you’re never fully ready when it happens.

My grandmother means more to me than most people in life. She has been so much to me throughout my life. My confidante, parent, role model, best friend, doctor, masseuse and the list goes on. The one person who I can tell anything without worrying about feeling any kind of judgement. My mother had me at an early age so in a sense I grow up alongside her calling both my grandmother and my mother; mom.

So the text that I received a few  weeks ago stating that mommy was having health issues caused my heart to stutter. Flashed me back to a memory of my cousins and I arguing over who loved her more. “If she died I would throw myself in the casket with her.” I vowed causing my cousins to yell at me for ever suggesting that she would ever die. In our young minds she would be around and healthy forever.

She’s so strong and up into a couple of weeks ago she was running around CT better than people twenty years her junior. Taking trains and taxis to the casino whenever the whim suited her. Traveling from state to state as if there were no barriers. Never needing any assistive device or any assistance from anyone. Now that has changed and I had been notified via text. Via text…

Even after I talked to my grandmother and she assured me that she was ok. “They’re always exaggerating. You ain’t got to worry about me baby.” Was how she phrased it laughing and downplaying the situation as my aunt continued to text message me about walkers and colonoscopies. The nurse in me needed to assess the situation with my own eyes.

Two flights later I was in her home wearing both the eyes of her daughter and the eyes of her nurse and while it was oh so easy to tell other people’s parents to get rid of their cat or their car, there are not many things more daunting than trying to decide how to tell your own mom that she needs to get rid of her throw rugs. That the table that she keeps lifting her walker over is unsafe as is the cellphone cord that she has stretched across the walkway to her bathroom. Or that yes, you do think that she needs one of those I’ve fallen and I can’t get up things.

I spent an entire twenty-four hours cringing every time she went to the restroom trying to find a way to broach the subject before I mentioned the placement of the table. Of course she lifted up the walker to display for me how light it was. It was not a problem and she would be “OK Baby.”

I don’t like conflict so when she went to the bathroom to get dressed for church I moved the table, plugged her cellphone charger up behind her bed and placed it on her nightstand, then I spent twenty minutes on Amazon ordering all of the things I had discovered she was low on during my assessment; toilet paper, paper towels, ivory spring bar soap, and her beloved beef ravioli.

I thanked God when she came out of the bathroom and laughed “I was going to ask you to put that table over there.” she said before sitting on the bed to finish getting dressed for church. I hope she meant to ask me to replenish her supply of Chef Boy A Dee as well. Either way I embrace the challenge of encouraging her to enjoy her autonomy while moving things out of her way for her own good.

I don’t however, embrace the fact that she may need a hip replacement for pain. I don’t believe that this is something that she has recently been struggling with. Lastly, I don’t know how I’m supposed to live in FL while she’s in CT where I can’t consistently see her with my own eyes.

Formal Notice

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Formal Notice

I’m willing to move my ribs to the side for you.
Pluck open my back and give you pieces of my spine so that you can stand up straighter.
Invite you to have the pick of the draw when choosing my shoulders.

Choose wisely.

I want you to be properly prepared as you carry the weight of the world. You’ve been doing it alone for so long and two heads are better than one.

Three shoulders are better than two.

I would give you my heart but I need it. Couldn’t give you pieces of me so unequivocally without it. But I’ll give you a kidney,
sliver of my liver,
part of my lungs,
I would give you my tongue if only I knew you would use it to just speak up.

Why don’t you ever just speak up?

Why don’t I just speak up?
There’s an old saying advising people to do unto others as you’d have them do to you.

But what if you’ve given others your Milky Way and half of your stars out of the goodness of your heart and they can barely part with a kind word?

What then?

What do I do when I’ve shown you that I’m willing to give you more than half of all of me and I realize that you can’t be bothered to do the same?

What then?
What if I changed.
Gave to the world an exact replica of whatever it is that the world has given to me?

Dear World,

I taught you how to treat me. Accepted your bullshit even though I was allergic to it. Even though I knew it for exactly what it was.
But things have got to change. I can not continue to dry out my oceans to fill your river beds when you wouldn’t offer me a cold drink if it required too much work. Consider this my formal notice that the old ways are done.
And when you start to notice don’t be surprised.

Remember,
you already done been told.

I Deserved That and Chances Are You Did Too. Lets Be For Real.

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Whenever I do something that causes me grief or discomfort I forgive myself and move on from the situation by saying “I deserved that”. I don’t do this as a way to come down on  myself or even as a way of excusing myself, but as a way of acknowledging to the Universe and myself that yes I put that out there and I understand why I received it back.

My most common misdeeds are: Not speaking up for myself or against something because I don’t like conflict. Not charging my phone when it is screaming that it needs to be charged. Being so inside my head that I don’t pay attention to what I’m doing and fall, bump into a wall, or even drop something. I’m also famous for knowing when someone is going to screw me and finding some reason why they won’t; only to get screwed in the end.

I could go on and on with examples but I’ll give you a big and a small.

My cellphone lives in my hand probably a good 8 hours out of the day. I do absolutely everything on it from reading to banking. So it’s no big surprise that my battery is frequently screaming out that it’s getting ready to die. I am also a horrible cell phone charger. My phone can be at five percent and I will be listening to an audiobook, texting my best friend, emailing a potential wedding vendor, and playing the Sims simultaneously while watching the battery percentage decrease before my eyes. Will I plug that phone in though? No because that would be the proper thing to do and I’m destined to not be proper in the most inopportune times. So it dies. Of course I can’t get mad. I just acknowledge that “I deserved that” and plug it in while shaking my head it myself.

I have an associate who did me a favor a few years ago by putting my vehicle in her name. I have always paid it and the insurance on time. Most of the time overpaying because I wanted it out of her name as soon as possible. She is horrendous with paying her own bills. I have known this for at least six years. She is also horrible with breaking leases and honoring her promise to pay. Eventually this caught up with her and she needed a place to say. Of course I feel like I owe her something and I just know that if I rent her an apartment in my name she is going to pay the bills on time and she’s not going to break the lease. NOT. Not only does she break the lease and make a promise to pay, but she doesn’t even tell me that she’s done this until after I’ve paid the car off. 1. I DESERVED THAT. 2. I will not allow her to ruin my credit by not honoring the promise to pay in my name.

You have to get to a point where you acknowledge foibles and take responsibility for the grief that they cause. Chances are if your boss is always breathing down your neck about your project being completed you may have been late with projects or caused them to question your timeliness with assignment completion in the past. Or if your children’s father sucks and he had previous kids before yours you probably ignored how much he sucked to those kids. Or if a friend or employee screwed you, you probably had previous knowledge of how they screwed other people.

Einstein says that the definition of insanity is to keep doing the same thing over and over while expecting a different result. All of these instances remind me of this. SO don’t be insane. Or at least acknowledge that “You deserve that.” Even if that’s a hard pill to swallow.

Books Over Beerpong… Beer Pong… Whatever

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Books over BeerPong. I’m the girl sitting in a corner at a party reading her book. Occasionally lowering it to respond to some inane question or to throw my two cents in to some random topic that I may or may not care about. Or to scope the scene. One must always be aware of their surroundings. Particularly if there is beer involved.

Should I be engaging with the people surrounding me? Many would say yes, me… I don’t really know. If my only reason for engaging is because others expect it or demand it of me then what’s the purpose. In that instance my participation isn’t genuine.

The older I get the more I want to be authentically me. The more I want to be around people who accept and understand the Authentic me.

I will no longer feel bad about being who I am. I will no longer surround myself with those who make me feel bad for being authentically me.

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