Friday Freestyles... The Jerk Edition

Good Friday Afternoon.

The weekend is nigh. I can almost reach out and touch it.

If only it was that simple.

My weekend starts in about 5 hours. And I can't wait.

Not that I have much of anything to do. I'm just looking forward to sleeping in. I've been going to bed around 1 or 2 in the morning. I'm not sure what's up with that. Poor Oscar-Tyrone can't even hang with those type of hours. I get a little jealous looking over to see him wound into a tight curl in his little bed, fast asleep. That should be me.

Sometimes I feel like a child: fighting sleep, because I'm so scared I'm going to miss something.

I'm not sure what I'm missing at 2 in the morning, though.

I know one thing: I'm feeling much better. I'm not sure why I was all nauseous. It could come down to me eating or drinking something crazy. I know I have a problem with pomegranet juice lately. Or it could come down to my meds. I'm not taking one right now because it is delaying my surgical wound from healing. I may be having a reaction to all that. I don't know. I just feel a little better. Now, I'm not out eating a plate of chittlins. (You know you feeling good if you can hold that down). For some reason, I eat a bunch of fruit during the day. The thought of anything much heavier than that scares me. This is bing cherry season right now, and for now, I'm a cherry eatin' chicken!

Kentucky. My sister Kentucky... sigh. She had a car accident a couple of weeks ago. Everything is fine, but she JUST paid her car off, so she was antsy about that. Anyway, this chick rear-ended her. And the chick had some bootleg insurance. It's legal and all, but the people are hard to work with. They're giving her the runaround. I'm glad her car runs, but the bumper is slightly out of place. I just don't want it to be totaled.

She needed some help the other day, and I was a bit beside myself because she didn't call me. She called her best friend, and it all worked out.

But she said some other words... "I thought about calling Mama..."

Ugh. I was driving down I-85, heading to work at the time. And this brought about one of our ongoing discussions. "Man, why you wanna call Mama, and she tripping still?"

This is my thing: They are still on the outs after this whole Grandma thing. Now, they have some quick general convos. Not sure what that's about. But they rarely talk. Why call her?

Kentucky has always had this thing about "keeping her options open."  If she's in need of help, she needs to be able to call folk. Now I understand that. Being the jerk that I tend to be, I don't have much of anyone to lean on when I need a helping hand. Luckily for me, a helping hand is rarely needed.

When I say "being the jerk I tend to be", I mean this: I don't consider myself a nice person. To some extent I am. I ain't gonna use you or throw you under the bus or nothing like that. I won't steal from you or hurt you in anyway. I won't be gossiping and backbiting. I don't manipulate or play silly mind games. That's just not me.

But here is what would make me nice, in my opinion: having the patience to deal with people, no matter how they treat me.

And I just can't do it. I'm really a jerk on that tip. I'll stop talking to janky folk. You treat me like trash, that's MY fault for letting you do it. That's on me. And I don't do well AT ALL with people who treat everybody around them all crazy. You treat your friends like trash, having them all exasperated and what-not... you're not gonna treat me any different.

My sister and I talk about this. She gets along with everybody, I don't. At least she tries. I don't.

I like my relationships genuine. Build me up. I build you up. Be a blessing to my life. I'm a blessing to your life. Don't bring unnecessary drama. And I don't bring the drama either.

Over a span of time can we each mutually answer the following question: have we been a physical, emotional, spiritual and mental asset to each other? Or have we been a hindrance to each other?

If the answer to that question goes in a negative direction, well... you know.

Did your life go downhill when I came on the scene? Did my life become a living hell when you showed up on the scene?

And my sister and I talked about this. Personally, I need to find some balance. I need to learn how to deal with folks I don't like. I can, and have. But I don't do well when it's ongoing, like on a permanent basis. I don't do well AT ALL. I am an expert at disappearing on folk. A well-seasoned expert. And that is something I don't particularly like about myself.

I like substance. The older I get, the more I want substance. My heart sings when we... me and you... interface well. When we can walk away from our interactions built up and not all dejected and exasperated.

Lord knows I know some exasperated folks. Goodness. People sho' nuff know how to put the people around through an emotional wringer. It is sad to see.

Oh well... just one of those ongoing conversations, I suppose. A complicated yet delicate one at that. My sister and I will continue to pontificate.

I don't know why she didn't think to call me with this car issue. I am itching to get away from work for any doggone reason. I could've rented a car for her and come on back to work. No big deal.

But I know she has to work things out for herself.  And I must do the same. I love that we each give each other the room to do so.

Oh well...just a little freestyle look into my heart of hearts on this Freestyle Friday.

That's what on my mind right now. That, and getting to a point of feeling a little better.

Song of the Day. I know I play this song at least once a day, either during my drive to work or my drive home. Michael Jackson "Heaven Can Wait".



Teddy Riley produced that song. I like when pop stars go back to their R&B roots.

That's all for today. I am tired. I want to get through this day and go home and enjoy my weekend. I don't plan on doing much. I may go to the library and do some writing. As long as it is QUIET. I don't do well with noise at all these days.

I hope you have a good weekend!

By design... and on purpose.