In doing something to my page, I deleted the previous blog post. Oh well, it wasn’t that good anyway. This post will probably be no better.
The week is catching up with me big time and I’m tired.
I was happy, until some douchebag rained on my parade. Despite being bombarded by customers today, I tried to keep a smile on my face, to keep things moving, to look at it as a positive. Business is job security.
So this crabby man comes up and places an order. I’m all smiles and he’s not really playing along. That’s fine. I make nice and run his order through. Not a minute later, my coworker comes up to me and says the crabby man said I was probably using drugs…because I was happy.
“No, I do not use drugs. I happen to do my job well.” Did the guy hear me? I don’t know and I, quite frankly dont give two shits. I will not have someone degrade my value by insinuating in any way shape or form I am happy because “well, she must be on something.”
Was the crabby man joking? Do I look like I give a shit? -.-
No, I don’t.
If I’m not all cheery – I let the weight of work and baby and writing and life in general slow me down: I’m a depressed, emo, a cloud of a person. I’m bad.
If I’m cheery – Optimistic about life and possibilities, leading by example, making the most of my time, enjoying myself and working with my coworkers: I’m a crackhead!
I am proud to say that I am a drug free individual. I have lived a drug free life and I am also keeping a dry home (no alcohol). This is my personal choice and I happen to enjoy my life this way. Are you surprised? Well, if you are: SHAME ON YOU!
I think it’s a damn shame when someone is actually trying to be positive and someone has to shit on them just because they are unhappy in their world. I hate your face and I hope you go home to your miserable little house and you sit next to your miserable little wife and you waste away in your miserable little life. Meanwhile, I’m going to make the most of it.
And FYI: I don’t care who you are – referring to someone who annoys me by their race followed by some adjectives does not help me. In fact, I don’t like it. In two days, I have two different people refer to someone as “that grouchy white guy,” or “you know the type, uppity white dude.”
I don’t care about color. If you are annoying, it’s your soul, your mind, your wicked little heart that annoys me. Or maybe we just caught eachother on a bad day. But at no point do I ever look at someone and think…”white = annoying.”
It’s like people look at my brown skin and assume that there’s this secret code: insult a white person and I’ll relate. No I wont. Because I’m not prejudice. Pride in my own does not mean I have to degrade another.
And my final FYI: I AM PUERTO RICAN. I know it’s hard here in the midwest. I’m not pale so I must be Black or Mexican. I know it’s hard to understand the concept that there are 21 Spanish speaking countries on this earth and so many different races that fall under the tan category but seriously – it’s annoying to answer. Strangers do it, so do friends. Yes, this is my real hair. No I do not relax it. Yes, I can cook. No, my mothers name is not Maria or Yolanda. I was born in NYC and I am a legal citizen. Now that we’ve got this covered…
I now return you to your regularly scheduled program, already in progress.