Confessions of an Underachiever
  • Confessions
  • Testing Pinterest
  • About Me

Blabbermouth

7/31/2013

 
On a Sunday afternoon in the golden age of the 1970s, the teenage me went to my boyfriend’s home for dinner. I don’t remember if it was Christmas time or my birthday or what, but after dinner we were chatting and watching TV and a commercial came on for the popular perfume, Charlie. In front of his parents, he asked if I liked it. With my normal diplomacy I made a vomit sound and said that it smelled like kerosene. (I bet you can see where this is going.) Minutes later I opened my gift from his parents--a bottle of Charlie. I made a quick mental note to someday take revenge on him* for this trap and did my best to amend my statement by saying that on my friend it smelled like kerosene, but she wore way too much of it, and that on me I was sure I’d like it. There! I put some on! See, I do like it! Whaddya know?!

I’m not sure if this makes that story better or worse, but I’m pretty sure it was a re-gift. His mother was a teacher and I was occasionally the recipient of some of her teacher gift overflow. In case you think that makes the story weirder, I have been known to pull over and pick trash from the side of the road, so I’m ok with re-gifting. Usually.

So anyway, this past Sunday I was sitting in church and the worship leader was reading Psalm 139, which says in part, “God . . . I’m an open book to you; even from a distance, you know what I’m thinking . . . You know everything I’m going to say before I start the first sentence.”

Awww, nice! I almost did a coffee spit-take. God knew I was going to say the Charlie thing and just let me? Years later he knew I was about to laugh while scolding my Jr. High daughter because she started to cry and had so much mascara running down her face she looked like Mini Tammy Faye Bakker? (You had to be there. It was funny. I was trying to lighten the moment. She’s still mad.) He couldn’t have stopped me before I said in a job interview that I lacked compassion? (Fine, the mascara thing bears that out but it was a JOB interview, for crying out loud.) Come on, God, I thought we were friends! We talk!

What was he thinking when he gave riffraff like us free will? If that’s not a gift I’ve abused I don’t know what is. Maybe it’s like this--maybe he knows what we’re about to say and smacks himself on the forehead or pounds his head on his desk, but since we get to call our own shots the stupid/angry/weak/hurtful thing gets said. And he hopes that we will come to our senses and ask for his help next time.

Maybe I need to talk less and listen more. And wait. Maybe I’ll try that and see if I can keep my foot out of my mouth for a couple days.

*I believe I got my revenge by marrying the guy. He’s been paying ever since.


The Dirtiest Word

7/23/2013

 
Some memories are like quick snapshots, and one of my childhood snapshots is of a neighbor girl breathlessly sharing a story in which someone said “the dirtiest word.” I don’t remember anything else about the conversation, but I still hear "...the dirtiest word!!!" and—what do the kids call it, LQTM—laugh quietly to myself. 

I can guess what word she meant, but I have my own dirtiest word: Should.

I should be a better mother.
I should be a better wife.
I should be a better Christian.
I should get this laundry put away.
I should get out there and walk, because 
    1) I should lose weight
    2) I should get my cholesterol down, and 
    3) I should get in shape because if I get my cholesterol down I could live to be 100 and I don’t want to spend those last 20 years in a nursing home. 
Speaking of which, I should put more money away for retirement and quit acting like the future will never get here.
I should plan ahead and get dinner in the crock pot by 1:00.
I should make better eye contact.
I should quit worrying.
I should quit shopping so much.
I should quit over-thinking.
I should quit eating sugar.
OH I should give the dogs their heartworm pill! I’ll be right back . . . 

So I’m trying to avoid using that “S” word on myself and others. Like other dirty words, it sets a tone and has an impact I don’t want to live with. (I should use better grammar. I think “with” is a preposition. Somebody help me out here.)  What makes it a dirty word is that I could add “I’m such a loser” after each of those shoulds. Should reeks of false guilt. And when I use it on someone else it’s like I’m so overflowing with shouldness that I can’t get my whole list done and I want you to do some of it. Even a good should, “Oh, that picture’s so cute you should frame it!” carries an implied burden. 

Even worse--should doesn’t get anything done. It’s just a weapon of half-hearted destruction. Picture it: You’re sitting on the couch, enjoying some Cheetos and Pepsi at 10 a.m., and you think, “I should get off this couch, swap these Cheetos for carrot sticks, and put in a load of
laundry.” Do you move? Nope. Maybe you’ll get up during the next commercial, but hello, you’re not going to just walk out before the reveal after investing 45 minutes in Kitchen Crashers! So quit shoulding yourself and either get up and get to work, or stay and enjoy your Cheetos and the kitchen you’ll never have, because really, who gives a should how you spend your morning?

To steal shamelessly from Yoda, do or do not. There is no should. Have a great day. And watch your language.


 

    ​Linda Stone

    I've always loved to read. I just wish it burned calories.


    Picture

    Follow @the_underachiever on Instagram

    ​​Archives

    January 2019
    December 2017
    October 2017
    April 2017
    March 2017
    September 2016
    May 2016
    February 2016
    November 2015
    May 2015
    April 2015
    March 2015
    November 2014
    June 2014
    March 2014
    November 2013
    August 2013
    July 2013
    June 2013

    Categories

    All
    Anxiety
    Dogs
    Life
    Marriage
    Middle Age
    Motherhood
    Parenting
    Self Doubt

    RSS Feed

Powered by Create your own unique website with customizable templates.