I wasn't gonna post this tonight or even think it, but sometimes life hits you smack in the face. I have never failed at anything in my life, but my life. You want a passionately written scene, I'm your girl. If you're looking for a crotchet pattern for that new blanket you're making, they point to me. You get the point.
Well now that ain't exactly true because everything was either you excelled or you didn't do it. And to understand anything about how well this was ground in to our young minds, I grew up completely sheltered in Christian school. I played in the band and sang in the choir. I was good enough if I played or sang in a group of five. But I'm no soloist. I'm not bitter.
So now, in my house you either excelled at something or you quit. If you weren't the best at something you tried it was better to give up than be called a failure. Anything was better than a failure. I found that I wasn't really competition worthy when it came to sports or music. One thing I'm great at is influencing a crowd. I'm never directly involved. It becomes an idea that forms in thier brain almost like magic. Then, sit back and let mob rule ensue.
I tried out to be a cheerleader. I was a great asset, solid base, pretty, but nothing that would take away from the captains. Good catch and release. I passed physically. There was an issue with me not smiling a lot, the colors of the clothes I wear. They spent 3/4 of a year in those outfits. What did it matter what I wore when I wasn't in that outfit or that I smiled in one and was stoic in the other.
They cut me. Turns out that they were this major bunch of sluts in high school. Sucks to be them. I could have given a few pointers. Move past.. So turns out private lessons are available everywhere especially when thier girls practice.
I have a natural talent as it is of pleasing well, anyone I wish really, really well. What I'm good at isn't legal as a profession. It's what I enjoy and what I'm best at, but you can't make a living like that in "today's" America.
And today I was in a great mood until the guy I'm considering pulls some shit. He asks me who is priority number one. He says it's me. Then he gets tricky with his wording. He makes an observation that I'm more of a slave than a service sub. He's astute. Then asks me if I would like to call or FaceTime. Gets very upset when I tell him I cannot.
My mother lives with me. She just broke 4 ribs, and I'm her round the clock care. Most days I don't leave the house. She's almost always with me. For this he calls me a failure. It couldn't be that it took all my nerve just to text him, now he's gonna throw a fit if I don't talk wanna talk right away. Do you understand how big it is to have my number?
How dare you call me a failure because I'm not ready. You were the one that said I was priority one. Priority one isn't ready!
