Almostgotit.com

Today I went and got my hair done.  You know, that thing I swore I’d never do, ten years ago?  When I decided to be the only woman left in my city with undyed hair?

Well, Forget THAT!  

So anyway, for the rest of the day I get to go around smelling beautifully of coconut and bananas, with accents of ammonia, which is just one of those little ways I remind myself I’m special.

Much sweeter, though, is the support of my friends.  Which also, by the way, costs a  heck of a lot less than my hair appointment did.   :)

Emily brought me a gorgeous present today and also paid me a most wonderful compliment about my employability (which she called “advice”).  My own husband spent a fair amount of time yesterday ignoring his other important email so he could answer mine instead.  (He said, re the toad people, that he’s got my back.  And I said he can have other sides of me too if he wants, just for that!)

And then this lovely note (which I use with permission) arrived from one of those serendipitous people who appear in one’s life sometimes and make more difference than they know:

Dear Almost,

I read your posting on turning down the IT job – and decided to offer a private reply/encouragement.

The choices one is faced with as a working/would-be-working mom are so tough!  Through my 20+ years of parenting, I have – in turn – been at home (multiple times), started a business (multiple times), been an independent contractor (multiple times), been a part-time employee (multiple times) and worked full-time (multiple times).  Navigating through each step involved hard decisions, trying to take into account where I was, where my spouse was and where our kids were at that particular stage and doing the best I could by everyone.  Some choices I would repeat, others not – but that’s the benefit of hindsight.

It sounds like you followed your instincts and made the best choice – so hopefully you can move past the toads and vinegar faced ladies (and any second guessing of your own) and look ahead to the next opportunity.  It can be so tempting to sell ourselves short just to get everybody off our back – but not worth it in the longer haul, as we have so much to contribute!

Hang in there!

I will, and thanks to all y’all. 

———-

Related Posts:
How (not) to interview for a job (the story begins)
Confusion Cookies (the story continues)
Nope (the story concludes)

These are just so exactly perfect.

• As I let go of my feelings of guilt, I am in touch with my inner sociopath.
• I have the power to channel my imagination into ever-soaring levels of suspicion and paranoia.
• I assume full responsibility for my actions, except the ones that are someone else’s fault.
• I no longer need to punish, deceive, or compromise myself, unless I want to stay employed.
• In some cultures what I do would be considered normal.
• Having control over myself is almost as good as having control over others.
• My intuition nearly makes up for my lack of self-judgment.
• I honor my personality flaws for without them I would have no personality at all. Joan of Arc heard voices, too.
• I am grateful that I am not as judgmental as all those censorious, self-righteous people around me.
• I need not suffer in silence while I can still moan, whimper and complain.
• As I learn the innermost secrets of people around me, they reward me in many ways to keep me quiet.
• When someone hurts me, I know that forgiveness is cheaper than a lawsuit, but not nearly as gratifying.
• The first step is to say nice things about myself. The second,to do nice things for myself. The third, to find someone to buy me nice things.
• As I learn to trust the universe, I no longer need to carry a gun.
• All of me is beautiful, even the ugly, stupid and disgusting parts.
• I am at one with my duality.
• Blessed are the flexible, for they can tie themselves into knots.
• Only a lack of imagination saves me from immobilizing myself with imaginary fears.
• I will strive to live each day as if it were my 50th birthday.
• I honor and express all facets of my being, regardless of state and local laws.
• Today I will gladly share my experience and advice, for there are no sweeter words than “I told you so!”
• False hope is better than no hope at all.
• A good scapegoat is almost as good as a solution.
• Just for today, I will not sit in my living room all day in my underwear. Instead, I will move my computer into the bedroom.
• Who can I blame for my problems? Just give me a minute…. I’ll find someone.
• Why should I waste my time reliving the past when I can spend it worrying about the future?
• The complete lack of evidence is the surest sign that the conspiracy is working.
• I am learning that criticism is not nearly as effective as sabotage.
• Becoming aware of my character defects leads me naturally to the next step of blaming my parents.
• To have a successful relationship, I must learn to make it look like I’m giving as much as I’m getting.
• I am willing to make the mistakes if someone else is willing to learn from them.
• Before I criticize a man, I walk a mile in his shoes. That way, if he gets angry, he’s a mile away and barefoot.

Posted several places online, including here.  No attribution given.  Please let me know if you know the original source!

A few weeks ago the Washington Post convinced Joshua Bell, one of the world’s greatest violinists, to play unannounced in a Washington subway station. Bell played for nearly an hour on his $3.5 million Stradivarius. More than a thousand people passed him by, with only one man stopping to listen — for three minutes, total.  Interestingly, every single child who passed DID try to stop, but in every case was hurried along by a harried and embarrassed adult. 

Altogether, a little over thirty-two dollars was dropped into the violin case of one of the world’s greatest musicians. 

(Thanks for sharing, Chris!)

The hardest things you’ll ever have to contend with are your own interior critics: They are powerful and noisy, not to mention irrepressible. Anne Lamott calls them her “vinegar-faced ladies;” a friend of mine (who, I should add, NEVER swears) calls them the “FCC”, or “Fucking Critical Committee.” Julia Cameron calls her inner critic “Nigel.” My mother’s voices, when she contemplates putting her paintings in a community exhibit, tell her she’s “showing off.”

My beloved step-aunt-in-law (yes, I really have one of those) calls them her “thugs on a bus.”

You know them perfectly well, don’t you? We all do, these voices that tell us we’re not good enough: the ones that demand, especially if we are women, that we “sit down and shut up.”

I think they are deadly, too, spoken by a thing or things that might even be in league with those immortal terrors that Madeleine L’Engel calls the Echthroi: the shrieking naughts (as in zeroes, or nothings): black holes who want to unname and X the entire cosmos. I call them my “Toad People.”

Most times I try something brave and new (and always when I’m writing,) no matter how freely my hand is moving or how well the work is going, they are always there, cursing in my ears, banging dissonant cymbals in the background, picketing with rude and obscene signs in front of my desk. They perch on the end of my pen and jeer at me. They poke their bony figures in my eyes and jab them at my words even as I’m forming them on the page. “Bad, bad, BAD!” they screech.

While these characters have always been there, recently they’ve been particularly raucous. I think I’ve been making them nervous, carrying on despite their scolding as I never have before. My toad people are well-established after years of residency – apparently, they even have a dental plan and an 80-year mortgage. They seem perfectly confident that they can weather whatever current flight I’m taking, and I must admit I find their confidence deeply disturbing. They have very strong, hairy arms, and seem to believe that if they keep pulling on me hard enough and long enough, I’ll eventually come crashing back down. I worry, sometimes, that they be right!

But then again, here I am, still showing up at the page and still writing. And here is my friend, still looking for a job. There’s my friend recovering from divorce who’s just been accepted as a Ph.D candidate; there’s my mother who’s going to show her paintings anyway. We are all so afraid, and we are all so beautiful. Look at us, though, take a really good look, because here we are. We will not be “X’d”. We keep showing up… not only because it is our God-given right, but because showing up is our God-given obligation.

So: suck a lemon, vinegar ladies. Go jump in a dirty old lake, Nigel. **Note to all toads:** this meeting is adjourned.

Addendum: When I wrote this, I had no idea I had been scooped. Sort of. But it’s an interesting thought that perhaps we’ve both somehow intuited the same archetype: http://www.locksley.com/humor/toad.htm