Talk Like You're The Ish

So, Jay and I were conversing on the eloquent art of collecting large balances from a big company.

He's the brilliant mind with the talk. So he, joking around, rolls off the tongue with this smooth operator ass talk off. I mean, it was perfect. He showed no hesitation, no shame, no stuttering. His voice was strong, convincing. He could care less if the person paid the debt and you could hear it...made me wanna go get my checkbook.

And I'm sitting there listening to him, trying to decide whether I should grab a pen and paper and take notes or just be jealous as shit that he can talk like that and I can't.

Teach me to talk like that, I begged him.

"Talk like you're the shit," he says, and leaves it at that.

I couldn't talk like I was the shit if I literally was a pile of feces.

My biggest problem is that I never took the time to develop confidence...I'd always thought that if I weren't the highest form of modest, I would come off as arrogant. In doing so, I think I've wandered to the most extreme end of the modesty spectrum and become rather comfortable with not having that face that point in my life.

And now, I have to. My job requires it, my living situation requires it, my responsibilities require it. I need to learn to have my own voice and not be afraid to share it.

So what should I do? I mean, should I stand in front of the mirror every day and just tell myself I'm the shit until I start to believe it? Should I find a mantra and post it on my desk to look at on every call to remind myself that I'm in control?

Not gonna lie...for about a week, I did feel like I was the shit. I was popping big payments left and right, and I was feeling great. Then something happened and BOOM...the confidence was gone. I never found it back.

So guess what...if it takes chanting a mantra between each call, I'll do it. If it takes waking up 5 minutes early so I can give myself a proper mirror pep talk before starting my day, so be it. If while I'm bored I gotta write down my frustrations to keep them out of mind so I can stay focused, then I'll write away. Put my phone away during work. Do nothing but focus on doing what I need to do to get what I need.

I'm not going to go in there tomorrow with my chest all puffed out, thinking I'll get paid on my first call. It doesn't work that way.

But it IS about time to get in, kick ass, and take names later.

Let's do this.

A Prayer

Dear God:

I haven't prayed in a while, I know. It's got nothing to do with a lack in faith in you and everything to do with me wanting to be an independent spirit and make it on my own.

But I can't do it. Something's truly wrong. I wake up nauseous almost every morning, and I'm not pregnant. Staying up past 10 is an accomplishment, and once I'm sleep I'm OUT. I don't eat, I'm always worried, and reportedly I talk in my sleep now too.

I'm sure my afflictions are my emotions breaking through to a physical medium, where they may actually be acknowledged. I start crying out of nowhere, and honestly if you asked me why I was crying I wouldn't be able to tell you. I get angry at the snap of a finger at the smallest things...to the point of almost cursing out unsuspecting jewellers or almost jumping out the car to destroy a UPS truck that cut us off (true story).

Could stress really be the driving force behind all of this? Or is there something more serious?

I don't want to wake up crying anymore. I don't want to continually pass out at 8 at night anymore. I don't want to snap at Jay anymore, I don't wanna wake up to find out I've called him something truly derogatory in my sleep (I'm so sorry, by the way). I don't want to wake up asking "Can I quit today?". I don't want to go into work knowing that I may be suspended today, or knowing that the end of this month could be the end of my employment just because I've been threatened with the pink slip twice already.

Yes, God, the solutions are easy. Keep your head up. Find a new job. Don't complain about it. Talk to your managers, talk to their managers, talk to HR, talk to somebody. Keep a positive attitude. I've been listening, I swear I have. But as logical as I like to think I am, I also know that I'm an emotion-driven creature, and that if I stifle or try to falsely confront my emotions, eventually they're going to affect me in other ways...like physically.

So first, I pray that you give everyone around me the patience to deal with me...especially Jay. He gets the brunt end of my frustration, depression, and anger and it's not fair.

I'm so confused, God. I don't lead a bad life. I have a wonderful fiancee, my own apartment, and a job where truthfully if I didn't feel so stressed I'd probably have the potential to do really well. I've got a great set of best friends, and even though I haven't seen them in a while I still do care about each and every one of them. I'm finally getting the family support I've wanted for years and years. Why can't I just embrace that and be happy? Why am I continually depressed?

Please, just give me the strength to make it through this. Give me the confidence to not come out of each day beaten. I need to be able to stand on my own two feet and know that no matter what life throws at me, the only thing that can truly make me fall is myself.

Please and thank you, God.

Love,
Demiera

G.I.N.G.E.R.

So, last week on the fly (as all my somewhat stupid decisions tend to be) I decided I wanted to color my hair.

So to Ulta we go in search of the perfect box coloring kit. After some careful deliberation and help from a friendly associate, I buy the box that's supposed to make my hair look like a caramel delight and head home to start my makeover.

Of course, it didn't matter to me that I've never colored my whole hair before and the last time I tried putting any kind of chemicals in it ended in a big FAIL (that would have been my attempt to do semi-permanent highlights, which also ended up in a mess and a red bathroom but at least it didn't look too bad so I kept it).

Also not factored into my snap decision: the fact that I'd washed my hair that very day (big no-no) and that it's very difficult to see the back of my head with the mirror. Which meant I had to ask Jay to highlight the back of my hair for me.

After about 3 hours of sitting, dropping hair dye all over the bathroom, and some fussing back and forth, I rinsed out the final step of bleach to discover a huge chunk in the back of my head (and a little to the left) was almost completely blonde, while other random chunks and streaks were anywhere from a golden brown to the caramel they were supposed to be, and the front of my hair had some hints of red [because I completely disregarded the warning that said not to color over semi permanent highlights]. My hair literally blended in quite well with the surrounding autumn leaves.

As you can imagine, I was mortified. And I had to go to work the next morning with my hair all different shades of FUGLY.

So straight from my job went we to the hair salon down the street, to see what they could do with my now damaged strands. $60 later, I looked like this:


At least my streaks are now all even. I wasn't going for the redhead look but I guess it isn't all that bad....not that I'm going to do anything to change it any time soon. My poor hair was fried from that whole ordeal. I've finally gotten it back almost to how it used to be but you can tell it's no longer as healthy as it was before :(.

Speaking of hair...it's about time for me to start working on it for work today...

Picture Perfect

So...Charlie Murphy is DEFINITELY the star of the house now. He's not terribly photogenic. As a matter of fact, he normally swats at or tries to bite my phone whenever I try to take his picture.

This morning, though, I was sitting on the couch attempting to pull my boots on. Charlie Murphy, being the ever attention hungry little sweetheart he is, jumped right into my lap and looked at me with the "don't leave me, just stay here and pet me" face. And for the first time he let me snap a picture that truly shows how adorable he is all of the time.

And I swear if I didn't have to be at work, I would have stopped what I was doing to chill with him. Even now, as I sit on the couch with my feet propped up blogging, he's laying on the floor directly underneath my legs sleeping. Whenever I'm in the living room or kitchen, he's never far away, no matter what I'm doing.

So cute.

Sensing Some Paranormal Activity?

Finally...I can sit down and blog. It's 8 in the morning and I don't have to be at work until 11 so I'm sitting here with my mug of coffee, ready to unload everything that's been built up.

The night before last Jay and I went to a screening of the movie Paranormal Activity.

Dude.

That movie was fuckin awesome.

Jay, a huge scary movie skeptic, was even spooked. It's got a very Blair Witch Project feel with the whole documentary idea, but it's ten times scarier.

The trailer doesn't even do it justice. Had you seen the first trailer for it, you wouldn't think it was worth watching. For once, the trailer doesn't spoil the movie, let me tell you. And the audience reactions you're gonna see are not simulated. People actually walked out the movie not because it sucked, but because they were so terrified they couldn't stand to watch it.

I can't stress this enough: GO SEE IT.

Development on the job: basically, I didn't get moved into anything clerical.

In fact, they told me they can't keep me in a position I don't want to be in, and on the spot I needed to decide whether I wanted to stay or go.

WTF.

I chose to stay, only (and I do mean ONLY) because Jay asked me to, asked me to stick it out at least until I found another job. Because for once, money wasn't a good enough reason for me to stay at a job. For once, I'm ready to just pack my little cubicle of shit up, all of which would fit neatly into my purse, and chunk up the deuce. I'll worry about the money later.

And though Jay gracefully landed the AT&T gig, is passing training with flying colors, and is more than able to support me, I still want my own job and my own money. So I took his advice, and chose to wait it out.

On the managers' part, they did move me to the more productive side of the floor, so I'm surrounded by people who can help me get money. And I've been staying afloat, not necessarily doing the best, but I'm keeping my nose a centimeter above water level.

I'm thankful to have a job, and glad to have had this opportunity to find out that collections ISN'T for me. Now it's time to move on.

And last but not least, we have a new addition to the family: Charlie Murphy!

He's a 10 month old kitten. We had to drive over to Indiana to pick him up. He's the sweetest little thing, except at night when he decides to pounce on our feet as we're sleeping. And he's a spoiled BOLD little sucker too...will come right up to your carton of ice cream, stick his head inside, and commence eating like it's his.

I've told Jay we can't keep feeding him the table food though. His little digestive system can't handle all that. So we'll see how it goes.

Wow, it felt great getting all that off my chest. Now to get dressed for work :/...

Excuses, Excuses

I've determined that at this point, when I'm ready to purchase a car, I won't be able to buy a car. I'll need an SUV of some sort.

My revelation came to me as I was attempting to parallel park Jay's 2002 Pontiac Grand Am (nice ass car...I freakin love it!). Recently I've gotten better with the whole parallel thing, but before I was terrible at it in the car, needing to pull out and back in 4 or 5 times before I got it right and didn't hit the curb (or gently nudge another car). Of course, I politely nudged the car behind me and that's when I realized it:

I'm not used to accomodating for a trunk.

Sure, in range they had little Ford Tauruses to learn on, but I learned the street language of driving in my mom's Grand Caravan. Vans and SUVS don't have that extension, so you don't have to calculate your space. You can look through the back mirror and back up as far as you need to without any extra allowance.

Such is not the case in a car. And it throws me off, which is why I do terribly.

Meaning Operation Get-Me-The-Acura-MDX-I-Hinted-At-For-Christmas is now underway in full force...

I made a very important decision at my job. I went to my manager yesterday and requested that I be moved into a clerical position versus being a collector. I'll admit, I was terrified to ask because things are different now from when I got hired. The woman who hired me said that the company won't fire you if you're not a good fit for a particular position; as long as you're working they'll try to find a fit for you elsewhere in the company.

That was before management changed and all the old managers were either demoted or fired (or quit). So even though my new manager is pretty cool and seems like a good guy, I was scared my request would be grounds for my termination, even though it's brutally obvious to anyone who looks at my numbers that I shouldn't be in a collector position.

But I got a reaction quite different from what I expected. The manager actually stops what he's doing, looks at me, and goes "You're dead serious?"

Yes. I am SERIOUS AS A HEART ATTACK. Which I am going to end up having before I hit 21 if you don't move me into a calmer, less aggressive position.

Apparently, he and the general manager had been discussing getting another clerical employee anyway, due to backlog and the amount of duties the clerical positions have to do. So had I not mentioned it at all, they probably would have hired someone else or moved another collector into the spot.

On second thought...I really suck at collecting...So maybe I was the front runner anyway...hmmm...

The Never Ending Cycle

Come in. Assess the damage left from the morning, when you were too busy getting dressed to care about a mess. Step over the rejected clothing options on the floor, maybe wrappers from a granola bar you scarfed down as you got dressed. Sit on the couch and kick off your shoes. Leave them there, because you're happy to finally be sitting at home. You've been sitting at work all day too, but it's different from the comfort of your couch.

You don't turn the tv on automatically, because your work day flashes in your head and you have a moment of reflection. The silence is a blanket, comforting you. Today was just one of those days, a day others might deem successful but on the inside you were suffering. This isn't the job for you, or maybe it is but you haven't found your niche yet. It hurts because you're not used to this, and nobody understands why a bad day impacts you so much but you're not acquainted with failure, while now it feels like you flirt with it every day. You see your quota, and your goal is crawling up to it, but it never hits. The day it hits is never the day you get rewarded for it, either.

You sigh in exasperation. Do you stick it out? Do you look for a new job? The job search in itself is a job. And beyond that, do you want to give up so easily? Will you appear weak? Will your resume show consistency in holding a long term job, or will they count your search for the perfect job as a sign that you can't hold one?

What is it about your current job that you don't like? Is it the competition? Or the fact you're not doing as well as you'd like?

All at once, you come back to reality and realize you've been sitting in absolute silence for 5 minutes staring at the wall. You want to reflect more, but there's something criminal in spending too much time thinking about work at home so you flip through the channels, searching for some mindless sitcom to immerse yourself in. They're always so delightfully unrealistic, and they create the perfect escape from reality.

At some point, you decide to eat. And at 9:00pm, you fall asleep (despite all efforts to stay awake to watch the game/movie/tv show) and stay in bed until the next morning, when you wake up and still complain about being tired.

And the cycle begins again...

Time For Change

I've come to the executive decision that I need to change a couple of things in my life. Starting with this blog appearance. It's been with this blue deal for quite some time (I don't even remember when I did this) and I'm getting kind of tired of it. I want my blog to reflect that I am a writer, that I express myself through the use of words, and also to reflect my personality. This dark makes me depressed, doesn't really capture my attention.

And you know a blog needs a makeover if it doesn't capture the blogowner's attention anymore.

I also want to make writing more a part of my every day life, like it used to be. I've noticed with my job and living with someone, I haven't spent enough reflective time with myself, re-evaluating the decisions I make on a day-to-day basis and just pouring out those feelings and emotions I'm not comfortable expressing in any form other than writing.

To be completely honest, blogging became a chore, which is why I haven't done it. I forgot the true reason behind me starting this thing in the first place: as an outlet. A place where I can basically tell-all without restraint, a place where I don't need to hide or wear a mask to hide who I really am. Yes, most people use the Internet to become someone they're not...I'm using the Internet to find out who I really am.

I'm not going to hold myself to a blogging schedule...never have. Any writer, producer, or creative talent knows that inspiration comes when it's ready, not when you force it. My other blog, Cellulary Extraordinary (which I thought had some real potential when I started it) became a chore because I wanted to keep it updated every day. I forced myself to devote time to it. But when something comes from within, and you truly enjoy it, you don't force yourself to do it. You just do it.

I'm also going to start up writing my novel again, a dream I've literally held on to since about the 5th grade. I originally wanted to be one of the youngest authors to write a novel and got pretty damn close more than once too. But I always gave up. I threw 100+ page manuscripts away without a second thought. So as I've promised a long time ago, I'm going to start it up again. And I'm going to share passages with you. Critique them, read them, guide me, whatever.

And in addition to all of this, I plan on starting to write poems again.

Part of this is a result of me not being in school and not wanting to lose the knowledge I've got, at least until I start back again. I also realize that I'm becoming *slightly* dumbed down by all of the television I watch and video games I play and magazines I read. So on my next shopping trip, instead of buying shoes and clothes and hair stuff, I'm gonna buy some books. I need to start reading again.

The change sounds radical, but I'm excited...I need this. I need to get focused again on what I'm trying to do with myself and where I'm trying to go in life.

For now, though, I'm off to find new designs for the blog... :)

Thoughts...

There comes a time in every one's life when we have to stop and think about what it is that makes each one of us so special and different, and to become aware of what we have to offer to the human race.

I wanted to discover, in a sense, what I'm worth. Not in monetary or materialistic terms, but in spiritual terms. What is my contribution to society?

I don't want to be one of those people who realizes their dream too late. Sure, people will always say it's never too late to find your place, yadda yadda yadda. But there's nothing appealing to me about looking back 50 years from now shaking my head and wondering why I pissed away so many years. At the same time, you want to think that the whole point of life is the discovery of what you're here for, what major life objective were you put here to complete. Because life is full of that, right?

I mean, I look at what I'm doing now. I'm working full-time, living the life of a full-fledged adult...and I'm only 20! But I'm happy. A part of me sees the students around me, wishes to be one of them. I feel like every day I'm getting more and more immersed in television and radio and music and less and less based on books and literature. For that reason, I'm ready to return.

But it's hard to leave the freedom having a steady paycheck can afford. I'm nowhere near ready to go back to being just a full-time student, either.

More deliberation later...

I should be sleeping. Instead I lay in bed, fully clothed, contemplating. How am I supposed to sleep comfortably when things are going the way they are?

He lost his job, then his home. It's the story so many Americans tell these days. All that's left are memories of the days when money was not an issue and a bond stronger than unemployment or homelessness.

And though I try to stay strong for him, for myself, for US, I can't help but realize I hurt more each day. Adolescent acne has returned to my once clear face with a vengeance; my once even toned skin is blotchy and yellowed from malnourishment, because I won't eat if he isn't. My eyes are swollen and sore from days of sobbing, my lips swollen from wailing and screaming. But the countless tears do nothing but pave the way for more salty emissions streaming down my cheeks, endless waterfalls that can't and will not stop.

My eyelids are beginning to droop and my muscles hurt. So I will lock this pain in a lockbox that will keep it out of my way for the time being.0