Therapy...oh, therapy

Just a short entry to wrap up my day at work.

Yesterday was a total a-ha moment for me. I realized how many things in my life were affected by my perfectionist attitude. For those of you who know me – stop laughing. No, seriously. Not perfectionist like “everything has to be perfect” but perfectionist as in “I have to control everything.” When I was on my own, it was great because I controlled everything. But now, I have a husband and child and I can’t control them, right? I realized that if I am not in control of things, I can get very uncomfortable. For example, traffic. I have a horrible problem with road rage. Why? Because I can’t control how other people drive. Another example, timelines. I would do things following my timeline, but it makes me crazy if people aren’t following my timeline and working at my speed. There are a ton more examples but they are way too detailed to get into now. All I can say is that because of the dysfunctional way that I was raised, being the oldest, having way too much responsibility than I should have at an early age, I think that controlling things is normal.

I'm rambling. I can't control it. :)

On my mind

I’ve got a few things going through my mind today. And…no, it’s not overloading my brain.

First, I am contemplating my career. I’m not going to go into anything specific but I am taking steps to keep my options open. Sometimes, I get really frustrated, bored, irritated with my current position. I know everyone does, but is it really worth it? I spend most of my day at work and there is no reason why it should be a negative aspect of my life, right? Sometimes, I imagine that I have invented the perfect thing (whatever that is) and I just sit home and collect the royalties from it. I’m not lazy. I have an incredible work ethic. I just get so tired of the red tape and political crap that goes along with my job. I had more freedom in kindergarten.

Secondly, I think that I put too much pressure on myself, which causes so many other problems. I think that I try to be the perfect mother, wife, person – and that is just not possible. Except, I can’t get my brain to understand that. I am always thinking ahead – what needs to be done, etc. So, by the time the day is over I am mentally exhausted and nothing really gets done. I am a champion at making lists and then not following through with them.

My typical Sunday is making a grocery list, going to the grocery store, and then internally freaking out because it is already 12:00 and the day is half over. Logically, I know that the day isn’t half over but inside I am in panic mode. Stupid, isn’t it? Of course, this panic carries over and then I am freaking out my husband and child and the day really is wasted. Everyone gets wrapped up in my panic and then it’s back to work again.

Another thing that is on my mind is my dog. I love that old, trailer park dog. He just drives me insane. He is like a canine vacuum cleaner. He is losing his hearing but he can hear bags, utensils, or food from miles away. I feel guilty because I don’t feel like I can give him the attention that he needs because I am wrapped up in all of these other things.

I guess I just need to reprioritize and get my act together. No one is perfect and who the hell am I trying to impress?

Dude looks like a ...

Since I’m not having that great of a day at work today, I thought I would clue you in on the other two porn downloader/principal stories. Story number two made my mother laugh so hard she cried. She knew porn/principal and she hated him. She enjoyed hearing that he was busted.

Story number two:
Porn Principal was/is a very tall man. He is one of those tall men that are more leg than body. One day, he came into school (when he was my 8th grade teacher) and wore light pink pants. I have to admit, they were hideous – especially for a man. Anyway, the guy who sat in front of me turned around and said, “He looks like a tampon.”

Thank you and goodnight!

Story number three:
Since you have already been introduced to Porn Principal’s fashion sense, you can imagine some of the outfits we were graced with. I guess one day he had enough of us snickering behind his back and he decided to teach us a lesson. He called my name and asked me to step out in the hall for a few minutes. So, I stood out in the hall by myself for about 5-10 minutes until he asked me to come back into the classroom. When I did, everyone was laughing and pointing at me. I looked at him and asked what was going on. He proceeded to explain how hurtful it is for people to laugh at another, especially when the person being laughed at doesn’t know what is going on. His example would have made a lot more sense if we weren’t wearing uniforms.

Here’s a little extra story.
My brother went to the same Catholic school that I did. He’s five years younger than I am. At our school, there was a statue of the Virgin Mary (Our school was St. Mary’s) with her hands outstretched. My brother, who was seven at the time, felt the statue’s hands and thought they were cold and so he put his mittens on the statue’s hands. Porn Principal felt that this was disrespectful and wanted to suspend my brother for this act. After a confrontation with my mother, who dragged one of the parish priests into the fray, my brother escaped with a detention.

Busted!

A good friend of mine emailed me to tell me about our old 7th grade teacher/later to be principal (from a Catholic school) who was busted for subscribing to child porn. Neither one of us were that surprised.

I had nothing against this man. He never did anything when I was in school to make me think he was some kind of predator or anything. I do have three memories of him that stick out in my mind. I’ll only go into one now. It’s kind of long.

The first one is a good memory. I was in 8th grade. There was a statewide or countywide contest that involved testing in different areas that he wanted our school to compete in. One of the categories was current events. He chose me and another person to compete in that area for our school. The other person was a boy who had a crush on me at one time, asked me if he could kiss me during The Outsiders, I laughed and said, “No.” So, I would stay after school with crush-guy and read Time magazine and Newsweek and the two major New Jersey newspapers. I was (and still am) a newshound. I would watch every newscast when I got up in the morning, at 6:00 pm, and at 11:00 pm (in case there were new developments since 6:00). I thought I was ready!

So, the day of the competition, all of the kids from our school who were competing piled into different cars with different moms and went to some other school (I can’t remember where) to take our tests. Standardized test environment with proctors and scantron! I was in heaven! I finished in no time, checked and rechecked and flipped my booklet over to indicate I was done. There were a few things that I wasn’t sure of and so I didn’t feel as confident as I did before the test. But I knew a lot of the answers. After the allotted time was up and the proctors collected the tests, we all went to the gym and sat in the bleachers to await the results. I can’t remember how many categories there were. I know I just zoned out for awhile because my category was going to be near the end. A few people from our school were getting honorable mention and so our mood was kind of low. Not that honorable mention is bad, but we wanted to win. I kept asking the crush-guy how he thought he did. He would still talk to me even though I really humiliated him. For a 13 year-old, rejection is a pretty big deal. Anyway, we would compare answers that we could remember and second-guess what we had turned in.

Finally, they got to our category. They go backwards from honorable mention to first place to build up the drama. Crush-guy got honorable mention! Crap! That means I’m next! But…they didn’t call my name. Third place. Not me. Second place. No. So, I’m thinking that they lost my scantron, or forgot to call out my name during the honorable mentions. Then, they called my name – first place! I won! I beat crush-guy and every other 8th grader in the competition! I went to the middle of the gym to accept my wood and bronze plaque, pose for pictures and then made my way back to the bleachers. It was a very proud moment for me and I remember that the principal (my old 7th grade teacher/principal/busted porn downloader) was so happy for me. It was really nice.

When I think of that memory it’s kind of hard for me to imagine him in a dark room, downloading hardcore child porn. Can’t argue the facts, though.