But if you cast stones at me, I will have to warn you that I prefer you aim at my heart. Because bruises from stones heal. But words and the way you treat me are not healed easily and sometimes the scars of emotional things although you can't see them, heal a lot more slowly and are more damaging.
My crime as of late has been that I had met with a particular person. This person I did ignore the signs and warnings. I feel like such a fool for ignoring those. Dear readers, when someone you meet is off, and you feel it, run away. don't stick around thinking that things will be better. No one knows your needs more than you. And never trust anyone that after knowing you for five minutes thinks they know you more than you. It is not true.
And so I began to work for this person. My relationship with this person just after 4 days of working for her got from working for person to just weird. Controlling and micromanaging every aspect of my day. Then when I refused to do things that person felt like I had to do, tantrums would ensue. Tantrums became in persons mind that they were justified. They were not. Things said to me as I look back that were of isolation (that is the beginnings of abuse) This person acted like he or she was caring, I worked for person for 6 weeks and I have to say I feel the effects of PTSS.
I have never seen such abuse in my life. I am now back to looking aggressively for a new job. And I am feeling like I am being sorely criticized. But I will get through this my readers, because I can not fail. And I want to put my cowgirl boots on, and strap on the chaps, and get back on the bucking bronco. Why? Because that is howo my Grandpa Jensen would have wanted me to do. And because I need to get my beloved husband here.
Quoting Barbara Streisand:::
Don't tell me not to live,
Just sit and putter,
Life's candy and the sun's
A ball of butter.
Don't bring around a cloud
To rain on my parade.
Don't tell me not to fly--
I've simply got to.
If someone takes a spill,
It's me and not you.
Who told you you're allowed
To rain on my parade!
I'll march my band out,
I'll beat my drum,
And if I'm fanned out,
Your turn at bat, sir.
At least I didn't fake it.
Hat, sir, I guess I didn't make it!
But whether I'm the rose
Of sheer perfection,
Or freckle on the nose
Of life's complexion,
The cinder or the shiny apple of its eye,
I gotta fly once,
I gotta try once,
Only can die once, right, sir?
Ooh, life is juicy,
Juicy, and you'll see
I'm gonna have my bite, sir!
Get ready for me, love,
'Cause I'm a "comer,"
I simply gotta march,
My heart's a drummer.
Don't bring around a cloud
To rain on my parade!
I'm gonna live and live now,
Get what I want--I know how,
One roll for the whole shebang,
One throw, that bell will go clang,
Eye on the target--and wham--
One shot, one gun shot, and BAM!
Hey, Mister Arnstein, here I am!
I'll march my band out,
I will beat my drum,
And if I'm fanned out,
Your turn at bat, sir,
At least I didn't fake it.
Hat, sir, I guess I didn't make it.
Get ready for me, love,
'Cause I'm a "comer,"
I simply gotta march,
My heart's a drummer.
Nobody, no, nobody
Is gonna rain on my parade!
Until next time, my dearest readers. And maybe then I will have something more to say
Take care. Eat Ice Cream. And Stay Beautiful
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