I am a marked woman and no, I am not just talking about my tattoos.
Since K started school I had been keeping a pretty low profile in my personal life, in my community life and even at K’s school. The stress of her adjustment was too much for me… I didn’t want to throw myself into a situation where I was vulnerable. I didn’t want to talk about how my kid wasn’t adjusting. I didn’t want to hear other parents say it will get better. I just wanted to bury my head in my life and let it be okay in time… no pesky talking or advice…
And it worked out, K likes school again and all is right with the world… so I poked my head out of my shell to look around and damn it if I didn’t screw myself in the process.
I am a marked woman. I am an artsy woman. I am a woman who loves to make things with her hands, loves to help her community and loves to be left alone. I also love to do anything I can to make this world a better place for my child and the children of others…
But pretty much I sit on my ass and write (not this blog, other stuff) and make meals and art and fun for my family, I read and read to, I cook and I play, I don’t clean as much as I should and I try to get the outside world to leave me alone.
If I could I would be a shut in, but I don’t think I could get the gal who waxes my brows to come here and do it and that’s a deal killer.
So I go about my life and occasionally I raise my hand and volunteer for something… Then it gets put on the back burner, shelved, is off the table for a while and I am off the hook.
This week the entire world surrounding CamiKaos is calling in their volunteer markers. People who know I am “creative” are asking for help with posters and ads, people who long ago asked for some help with a community project are suddenly ready for that help, people who months ago had asked for neighborhood help that I willingly offered in exchange for being off the hook as the VP are ready for me now.
And then there is the stuff I willingly volunteered for… not stuff I was asked to do and couldn’t help saying yes, the stuff I raised my hand for and yelled “OHH OHH Pick me, I am a glutton for punishment, I enjoy it, I want it, I need it!!!”
My plate is full… and you would think that between school and community when your plate is so full there is not even room for some of that AWESOME potato salad people would back off and stop asking… but it seems once you say once yes, you are marked for life.
You would also think the snide comments and snark I dish out would make people think I am a prickly pear and get them to go away.
So from now on I will be making a clear effort to say
“FUCK YOU “
“I DON’T KNOW YOU”
“THIS IS NOT THE DROID YOU’RE LOOKING FOR”
“pleeeassssse *sob* stop *sob* asking me…”
Oh, and I will be dying my hair blond, wearing turtlenecks and lots of pastel, that should throw them off my scent for a while.