For Women Who've Lived a Little, Learned a Little, and Laughed a Lot
January 5, 2016
I can not go to work today no matter how I need the pay.
My butt is big, I need a wig.
My eyes droop, I can not poop,
My toes are gnarly, got a gut like Chris Farley.
My teeth are lose (did I mention my caboose?)
My clothes don't fit, can't find my wit.
I cannot go to work today, someone might see this aged display.
I'm much too tired, probably should be fired.
Computer's down, my teeth look brown.
A.D.D. keeping me at odds, face book calls (it just thrawls),
My lungs just wheeze (some O2 please)
Boobs don't look fake, bones and joint just ache.
Can't move too fast (how long does this last?)
What's that you say...?
I can work at home and lay...down in my bed, prop up my head?
Well if that's the case, I can work at this place... Hiding this aged display makes it all OK. (For today).
I wrote this poem years ago while working for a popular couple who were the leaders of the North American region of a global community focused on spriritual growth.
Although I traveled to the office on a few occasions, I was able to work remote and spent most of the time out of the HQ office in my home office over 1000 miles away. For a group teaching love, self healing, and evolution, I honestly have never been as stressed, or as physically ill (including a bout with a little thing they called the Swine Flu), or felt as bad about myself as I did during the 18 months I was on their payroll.
Getting up and going to work each day was literally like walking into a lion's den (of judges) or heading back to a high school homeroom full of mean girls. (Literally - think Regina George or Gretchen Wiener from the Disney movie Mean Girls).
I quickly learned that the behaviors of my employers were more like that of direct the descendents of Satan than they were of any spiritual mastesr. Not kidding. I never knew, from hour to hour, if I was going to be treated as the hero or the zero.
It was a mind fuck. (yay lessons!) (heavy sarcasm implied).
Ne'r the quitter however, I hung in there, seeking the lessons and promised self growth...allthewhile being encouraged (or bullied) to drink the kool-aid.
It was only the day, however, that quite impulisvely, I crafted the poem above that I had a great awakening!
Don't get me wrong...as the poem implies, under any circumstances, aging isn't fun. However, when I saw by my own hand that that was how I felt about myself, I suddenly felt awake! WTF?
Thank God I saw it as a wake up call, and so not long after that, I resigned inspite of the fact that I needed the money to pay the bills.