Hard as fuck

I've never hidden the fact that I'm an emotional person. I don't just wear my heart on my sleeve, it's in every fibre of my body, plastered across my face, and my clothes are cut from its cloth. It's fair to say I emote my way through life.

If I were to hear someone talk about me, perhaps my eulogy (you'll be leaving the service - likely non-denominational although I am a Catholic - to Green Day, so I hope you have the Time of Your Life), I'd hope to hear from someone that I'd achieved my wish of being a kind and considerate person to others, strangers as well as friends.

You see, even though I don't have that much, I'm willing to share what I have. It may be my advice or a shoulder to cry on, it could be a last-minute favour or a place of refuge, but I am always generous with my time, friendship, love and support.

I readily admit, I don't just befriend or acquaint, I adopt. That's not to say I'll suffocate you - but expect me to be interested in you and your life, and welcome you into mine. It's how I do things. 

I have been told I'm too emotional for business, but I beg to differ. I'm straight-up and honest, I'm probably too outspoken for my own good, but I am not malicious or unkind. If you piss me off, you can expect to know about it, but I don't do political games, I don't do cliques and I don't take a crap in my friends' laps.

Regrettably, not everyone in this world is the same. There have been so many people I’ve invested in, welcomed into my life, my family and even my home. Not all, but plenty have abused my trust, my friendship and my hospitality. They've taken advantage of me, slighted me, forgotten me, hurt me - some intentionally - I've been put down and let down and expected to stay down.

But still I rise. 

You see, although I don't forget, I forgive many things. There are some people that have pushed me too far and know it; others have yet to learn they crossed the line, but they will; and there are a few who get another chance. To the outsider, the non-emotional ying to my yang, it might appear I'm a bit of an idiot going back for more. But, unlike the Keane song, one day I won't bend and break, I'll simply snap. 

You see, I'm a kind and gentle soul and pretty easy going too but please don’t confuse that with thinking I’m soft. I’m actually hard as fuck.




Comments

Post a Comment

Thanks for ranting!

Popular posts from this blog

Full rubber jacket

Contraception has, thankfully, changed over the centuries. The women of previous generations had a choice when it came to contraception. They could opt for the unpredictable method of withdrawal, AKA the rhythm method. This had undocumented side effects which included palpitations, sweating and general nausea lasting for up to four weeks. Or perhaps the more Puritan among them preferred abstention. Despite fewer pregnancies compared with the withdrawal method, this alternative remedy was known to result in localised frustration. Condoms have been around for centuries. King Minus of Crete apparently used one, or rather his wife did - he'd been told his semen contained "scorpions and serpents" that killed his mistresses and using a condom protected his wife from his killer seed. Sounds like venereal disease to me. Far from the discreet foil wrapped latex versions available today, the prototypical prophylactics were made of fish bladders and animal guts. Co
Read more

Mummy makes a point

I'm not a material girl in this material world. Aside from the fact that I'm past 40 and therefore can only be referred to as a girl by my grandmother's generation, I'm not one for fancy trappings. Yes, I like Ted Baker, but I also wear Primarche . I love M&S food but I also shop at Aldi (pronounced Al-di, not All-di). My point is that I enjoy the finer things in life, but don't need them. On the matter of finer things, karma is up there. I'm desperately resisting the aching urge to say "I told you so" to a number of people. So to maintain some dignity I'm going to blog in generalist terms, in the hope that it's as cathartic as my writing usually is.  I've got a fiendish friend sitting on my shoulder. There used to be a slight nick, not quite big enough to be a chip but definitely some shallow damage, but that's healed and now the devil's taken up residence. Every once in a while, he'll lean across and whisper in my ea
Read more

Mummy goes back to school

Next week, it's all change in our house. Again. OH begins a new, dream role (more on that story later) and the Mini-RMs finally go back to school. Not that I'm looking forward to it or anything. I've done this back to school stuff before, in varying degrees of ineptitude, so this year I was adamant I would take full advantage of the unique factor for 2018 - namely that I work from home and therefore have more spare time thanks to a minute commute and downtime when I want it - and make like a boy scout... be prepared. Let's be honest, that preparedness is shot to shit.  I started so well, but perhaps peaked a little too early. There was a short period where we got loads done. I was a powerhouse of organisation - in the run up to the Maldives I smashed work, blitzed life admin, micro-packed an extraordinary number of clothes in two suitcases (our friends took four, one of which was full of shoes) and left the house in a state that can only be described as
Read more