Tomfoolery of the feminine kind

Illness and injury have beaten me down all week long. To be more graphic and honest, I experienced one of the worst menstrual cycles I have had in years on top of a recurring back injury. I've been applying heat and ice packs at the same time. Plus, I scavenged my medicine cabinet for any muscle relaxers from previous injuries. God was good to me when I found some expired pills that I had to take, and they proved heavenly. My body probably cannot completely figure out which way is up with all these treatments.

At one point, nausea, lightheadness, and dizziness hit me all at one sad time during the workday. My body temperature started to rise, too. The first aid cabinet upstairs only had bandages, ointments, and alcohol swabs but no thermometers or other tools to help me out. So, to save myself from further injury aggravation that could make me cuss, I get on the elevator to go back to my area one floor below, and that's when the fun really began.

The doors closed, and I couldn't look at myself in the brassy doors. I just laid my head on the wall for what seemed like an eternity in a moving sauna greased with molasses. I swear my body was nearly on fire by the time the doors opened. Two of my male colleagues just stared at me as I exited the elevator fanning myself with my hand and rushing to the ladies' room. The cold water couldn't come out of the faucet fast enough as I started splashing my face with liquid lusciousness. The wet spots on my blouse never mattered one bit as my body thankfully started cooling down. I had to wet some paper towels to take with me because I couldn't risk spontaneous combustion before I returned to me desk.




When I barely made it back to my desk without fainting, my inner slacker immediately thought, "What da hayle? I gotta get outta here! I'm sick!" Then, another cool coworker saw me and asked if I was okay.

I'm positive I had a pathetic look on my pale face as I replied, "Noooo. I'm super hot for no good damn reason."

She quickly replies, "Maybe you're having a private summer."

Then, my face had to read, "Bulls--t". Private summer as in menopausal hot flash? No. Way. I quietly advised, "That can't be right. I'm on my cycle right now having the worst cramps ever. Hot flashes are only for old ladies that forgot who Aunt Flo is."

My co-worker, who is a couple of years under me but pretty mature, coolly and easily schools me that hot flashes can happen during a cycle for non-menopausal women. What the hell? That's news to me. Mama never talked to me about that, and I don't recall that being a subject during high school health class or even a daytime talk show. Ever. This is some hogwash joke my co-worker's trying to play on me. But a few minute later, a second co-worker tells me the same exact madness about hot flashes during a cycle.

This newsflash just shattered my little world. The situation felt bad enough when I realized one of life's secrets had just finally been revealed to me. My perspective worsened when I recognized that my maturing early thirties body had betrayed me once again. I already deal with acne breakouts from time to time. Hot flashes, too? Hot flashes. For me? For real? Damn.

Thankfully, I survived my internal betrayal and the urges to take the rest of the day off. But can I trust my body again after this? Are there more jokes and trickery for me to endure? Well, if there are more shenanigans ahead, I'll make the wise choice to endure them since this body is the only one God blessed me with, kinks and all. I'll just be sure to keep sipping ice water.

I swear this isn't whining....

It's been an unfortunate while since I've posted, but I've been in the midst of so many things. Like anyone with ears and/or eyes already knows, I earned my CDL. That has become one of my greatest accomplishments to date. However, coming across a great opportunity to use it has not been so easy to come by. Honestly, I'm not being picky and refusing job offers. This economy is so hard that there's drivers with years of experience still looking for work, so it's kinda hard for a newbie to compete against experienced drivers.

On top of that, my husband and I have entered the adult world of house shopping. It's not a euphemism for anything kinky. We're seriously house hunting. Interestingly, I am actually completely on board with this despite my fears that my credit wasn't good enough for a loan and my husband's desire to live in...Decatur. *semi-shudder*

Don't get me wrong or call me a snob. Any person raised on the Southside of Atlanta will easily tell you that Decatur seems more like a different world than another part of Atlanta just 30 minutes away. The difference has always been monumental to a kid like me who likes the laidback feel of College Park compared to the crowded hustle and bustle of the Eastside. But our journey into homebuying has shown me that a nice side of Decatur really does exist. (Trust that I did not look anywhere near Memorial Drive because I cannot shake that stigma for anything.) Plus, there's seems to be an energy in that city. A Hustler's Spirit that extends beyond slanging drugs to reach towards legal dreams of entrepreneurship, moving up the corporate ladder. A Go Get 'Em edge that you cannot ignore and have to acknowledge and respect or be suffocated by. So, whenever we buy, our residence will very likely be in Decatur after all, and we will be infected with that energy.

So, houseshopping, jobhunting, and still growing into my role as a wife and a Christian have consumed my life. Some things that hold a dear place in my heart have temporarily taken a backseat until I can step into the next phase of my life. I refuse to sever any ties because I will return.


But there are three things that have an unbearable hold on me and continue to hold me back. Working at the current job that will not lead to a viable career; knowing that my writing skills take a complete backseat to everything else; and my weight issues. If anyone pays attention to my FaceBook status updates, I'm frequently drowning in a sea of sub-mediocrity. The most rampant offenders remind of those fish and creatures that can only be found with special deep-sea diving equipment, so they have no business being out of water...except to make my whole department so drained that we can only return home each day and just regroup, rest, and return the next day for more tidal waves of tomfoolery.



I feel so spent after each workday that I don't blog or write anything or make any efforts towards self-improvement. Well, except my water aerobics days. But I need more than just those three days to get past this weight that's holding me back. The part that fascinates me is I know what I need to do in terms of eating right and exercising more frequently. It just happens to be difficult to get up the motivation and gumption to do it all because of how deflating and depressing my current work situation is. Sometimes, I feel like there's a smooth silky rope around my neck that feels comfortable at first, but then there's an anchor on the other end of the rope that keeps me in that sea of idiocy.

Despite all of the seeming pessimism, my hopes and dreams of moving forward remain. Eventually, I'll get to move forward, but I don't intend to wait too long. Everything will improve with time, so I'm not completely deflated. My hope-filled heart will keep beating, and my dreams will become reality soon enough. I just hope I won't have to wait very long.

Speaking of being uplifted, I found the original "I Am the Black Gold of the Sun" by the psychedelic soul group Rotary Connection which included the incomparable, unforgettable songstress Minnie Ripperton.

Get uplifted, people. Check out the Nuyorican Soul cover from 1997, too.

ROTARY CONNECTION-"I AM THE BLACK GOLD OF THE SUN" (1971)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4DR_NMtBEj4



Nuyorican Soul - I Am The Black Gold Of The Sun (4 Hero Remix) song starts at 0:38
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iIzqQOs_IrI