It is a fairly well documented fact that sometimes I can be a bit of a control freak. Popular definition may give you the impression that my “control freakishness” means I have crazy-psycho reactions if even the teensiest detail is not My Way. Not so much. I also do not turn into a crazy Lifezilla type if faced with something I don’t want to do. Nothing like that (I hope). The Harriet version of “control freak” is more along the lines of “I freak out when I feel like I have no control,” with said “freak out” being something along the lines of absolute despair with a side of living in a perfect graveyard of buried hopes. I really really REALLY don’t like feeling like I’m being tossed around my Life and there’s nothing I can do about it. On second thought, perhaps this doesn’t make me a control freak, perhaps this just makes me normal…?
I feel like I am finally on the tail end of
months YEARS of being tossed around, I’ve got a few weeks of craziness left and then I have a solid stretch of what should be no big plans and a general calmness at work.
Should be. And so help me, Karma & Murphy, if you throw a wrench in that dream simply because I vocalized it I will destroy you.
I’m sick of being tossed around. My freak controller has taken a serious beating of late and I am worn out. I’m tired of not knowing what is going to happen next, of not even having a vague idea. I have repeatedly thought that my life would be a fantastic soap-opera, what with the relationship drama, the crazy family situations, the “Past,” the events that border on completely bizarre…those three kids I didn’t know were mine…wait. No. Scratch that last one. That’s not a thing. (I promise, NOT a thing.) I just…I need a vacation from all of this crazy. I need Life to slow down a little bit so I can recenter and find my groove again. I need to give my battered controller a break so she can recoup and re-prioritize.
And then, after I have fully recovered, THEN we can go back to the crazy soap opera stuff, mmmkay?
As far as this My-Life-As-A-TV-Show thing goes, I want a better script! I want a new director with a brand new artistic direction! I want a new wardrobe lady! I want softer lighting and a team of airbrushers! I want better snacks! I need better snacks! I want a mini-series in an exotic location; Belize or Iceland or Myanmar. (And no cheating and using Manitoba as Iceland. I want the Real Deal.) I want more air-time with Mr. Blue Eyes! I need more time with him, just us, figuring “us” out in peace and serenity.
If I was the lead actress in that show I would sooo be lounging in my own (air conditioned!) trailer sipping Diet Dr. Pepper and rolling my eyes with my assistant (oooh! I get an assistant!) and rambling on about how “I can’t work under these conditions”, and “artistic differences” and blah blah blah.
…Do I sound like a freak yet? Maybe a little? Ok, as long as we’re on the same page. In fact, if only to emphasize how serious I am here I think a scathing letter is in order:
Please stop with the crazy. Really. This has been going on for
months years and it’s enough already. Besides, it’s The Holidays–summer totally counts as “holidays”–can you at least stop sucking for The Holidays? Or forever? Kthxbye.
…Ummm, so “scathing” may have been a bit of an overstatement; I’m exhausted and not quite cranky enough for “scathing.” Hopefully, Life will still get the message.