“And I don’t need your sympathy, there’s nothin’ in this world for me”

I posted this on Facebook this morning because I’m just in a mood. I wish I could truly vent and just get it all out there and off my chest, but unfortunately, my blog is public enough I cannot do that. And in a way, I hate it. Days like today, I want to scream “Eff it, I’m gonna say what I want, damn the consequences!” However, there is enough self-preservation-instinct in me that I dare not reveal all–At least not to the internets.

I’ve been told before that because I’m rather reserved, I sometimes come across as arrogant, snobbish, or somewhat of a bitch. I don’t consider myself shy–I’m just one of those people who doesn’t speak unless she has something to say. I don’t do well with small talk or mindless chit-chat, unless I know you well-enough. But beneath my quiet exterior lies a person. A person with real, raw feelings, that sometimes get hurt, and while I might try to present a tough exterior and try to pretend that certain things don’t bother me, sometimes I can’t hide it. Sometimes things cut me to the quick, especially when I feel like I’ve been blindsided or when I’m doing something like busting my ass or trying to do something nice, just because. It’s insults and snide comments (among other things) that sometimes make me want to tell the bambino not to bother being a nice person. Nice people get stepped on, screwed over and stabbed in the back. If you want to get anywhere in life, learn to manipulate, and look out for #1 only. Actually, the bambino right now is such a sweet, caring little boy that I wish he never had to learn such horrid life lessons. I’m only half-joking when I tell people I wish I could lock him in a bubble until he’s 50. As an example of how awesome he is, after I got home from work, he and Jay popped out to the store for a few things. He picked out these for me:

He knows how I like to chew gum, and he got me the Dalmatian because he’s got a stuffed one which cheers him up when he’s sad. He thought I could use one too. I’m putting it on my desk at work.

And normally, when I’m in this kind of mood, I’d be stuffing my face into a bag of chips or something, just to dull the emotional pain. That’s one thing I discovered the last time I did Weight Watchers. I don’t know when I started doing it, but I eat my feelings. And I don’t exercise like I should, but the bigger issue is that I do emotionally eat, and that’s never good. What I should do is go back to cleaning, which is how I used to vent my frustrations. And in a way, I sort of did that tonight–I cleaned up the kitchen, while waiting on dinner to finish cooking (and my guys to come back home).

Chicken Tortilla Soup. It was simple to throw together when I came home on my lunch break–I just tossed everything (1 lb. of chicken breasts, 2 cans of diced tomatoes, one with green chiles, some cumin, salt, pepper and half a cup of chicken broth) except the tortilla strips and cheese into the crock pot, turned it on low, then walked away. Beautiful.

And filling. I did also work out some aggression while shredding the chicken. It reminded me a little of the tortilla soup from Max & Erma’s. Not quite as spicy, and without crispy tortilla strips, but there was something about it that reminded me of Max & Erma’s and my friend Annette. We’d occasionally go out to eat there and we’d get the tortilla soup, I’d get a bacon cheeseburger and cheese fries with bacon, no scallions, while Annette would get a buffalo chicken sandwich (I think). Ah, the good ol’ days, when my metabolism could handle a meal like that without my ass expanding!

But now that I’ve gotten that off my chest, I am relaxing with some Baileys on the Rocks and Are You Being Served? Hopefully tomorrow is a better day, and I am a little less bitter and cynical.

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7 Replies to ““And I don’t need your sympathy, there’s nothin’ in this world for me””

  1. I could have written so much of your post. I’m the reserved type, too. I think it serves me well enough at work, where it’s interpreted as “calm and steady,” but socially I’m a mess. When I was younger people just thought I was a snob. Now that I’m older and work harder to make small talk, I just feel obnoxious and worry that everyone else thinks I am, too. Yes, being yourself and being nice sometimes… often… just earns you a kick in the ass, but the alternative is no good, either.

    (And I wish I could elaborate on that on my own blog, and I just want a cookie instead…)

    Don’t let ’em drag you down.

    PS That Dalmatian gift is incredibly sweet. Good job with that one, mama!

    • I burst into tears when my son gave me the dog–He hugged me & said “Why are you crying Mama?” I told him how proud I was of him for picking out something so thoughtful and sweet for me. If nothing else is right in my life, I am a good mother, and I have a good son. I think it’s funny that I’m a little more outgoing at work, just because of the nature of my job–I guess maybe because I’m being paid to be all chipper and chirpy or something. I want a cookie too, now that you mention it. :)

  2. I’d like to give you a hug even though I think neither of us is the hugging type. :) I often get mistaken for being a snob or standoffish. Growing up we needed to express ourselves quickly & efficiently or you’d move on to the next person. Words & thoughts are at a premium.

    The soup looks good. I ate that Max & Erma soup alot while pregnant with Dane.

    • Thanks. :) Yeah, I know people thought I was stuck-up, even in college. Brevity is key with me…One thing that drives me batty is people who ramble on & on without ever getting to the point! Unless you’re 80 years old, just spit it out (old people get a pass, though…If you’re lucky enough to be old, you’ve earned the right to be as rambling or cranky as you want!)!!!

      I wish I could re-create the Max & Erma’s soup…Maybe if I added some spicier chiles or something, and somehow got the cheese to melt through the soup…And used crispy tortilla strips instead of just regular corn tortillas. One of these days I’ll work on that!

  3. You can’t be grumpy when look at your little dalmation Chica. I always kept little things you & Kendra gave me, and still do. They make a bad day go away, and make you realize what’s really important. That bad day will be gone, but that smile given to you by your child always stays with you……

    • Geez, thanks for making me cry, Mom! And yeah, I know…This too shall pass. The comment in question came from a very insecure person, so I really shouldn’t let it bother me. I just need to wallow a bit.

  4. Pingback: “I’ve been knocked down, beat down, black & blue…” | Tramplingrose

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