I’ve realized I’m jealous.  Not in the sense of I’m jealous of skinny people or I’m jealous when it comes to relationships.  I’ve realized I’m jealous over a few strange things.

I’m jealous of the Amish.  We recently visited the one-room home of an Amish woman who does some crafting.  I took in the surroundings with awe.  Gas stove. Canning supplies.  Single bed in the corner with a gorgeous handmade quilt. Organized bins for her bead work.  No TV.  No pictures.  No clutter.  No outlets.  I left there deep in thought and jealous.  Jealous of the simplicity, jealous of the lack of clutter, jealous of not having to put gas in a vehicle.  Now, I’m not going to go and attempt to join the Amish or even live like the Amish because I think it would be very difficult to move backward……especially when I write a blog.  It would be pretty hard to send you all a hand written letter with a story in it every few days (weeks lately), you each may get one every year or two.

I started watching a reality show about a family living in Alaska, like the Amish, I’m jealous of their simple life…..except the outhouse, I’m not really jealous of that aspect of it.  I guess you can’t have one without the other though.  I’d have to talk someone into digging the outhouse hole REALLY deep.

I’m jealous of chubby people who wear things that people think they shouldn’t.  I believe these people are comfortable and think they look good.  You know who I’m talking about…..those with the swimsuit two sizes too small or the ones with their ass crack hanging out because if they pull up the jeans to where they should be then they would have to buy a bigger size.  I’m chubby, I try not to wear things I shouldn’t but I’ve realized what happens is that I end up with tan lines I don’t want or like or I actually look bigger than I am because I’ve purchased something that’s actually too big for me.  This my friends I can work on; however, if you see me in a swimsuit two sizes too small or my butt crack peering out the back of my jeans like the Grand Canyon then know that I’ve turned to drinking or drugs because on a sane and sober day I would not do that…..even if someone told me I looked good.

I’m jealous of people who know how to do something cute with their hair.  You know the ones, give them a couple of pencils, two bobby pins and some toothpicks and they look like they’re red carpet ready.  I myself have two hair dos, down and up.  Up is in a pony tail or a clip, either way it’s just up.  It doesn’t look super cute with messy bulges or sleek and sexy, it looks like a pony tail, even if I spend 15 minutes on it, it still looks like I just crawled out of bed and didn’t give a crap what I look like.  Now, I rarely spend 15 minutes on my hair so maybe I should start doing that consistently and maybe I should buy some things like a comb for teasing, some goop of some sort and possibly a brush that I could use while blow drying it.  Instead I’m using a pick (yes I said a pick, leave me be, the 80’s has not called and asked for that back yet), no goop and no brush while blow drying.

I’m jealous of people who have no problem asking for help.  I’m getting better in this area but even when I do ask for help it eats at me because I hate doing it.  It’s so silly I know, I have no problem dishing out help but I sure have an issue asking for it.  If I were keeping score there would be lots of people who owe me ‘help’ but the scorecard wouldn’t matter because I’d never pull it out and use it.  This will always be a work in progress for me.

I’m jealous of people who can tolerate jackasses.  I try my hardest to be respectful to everyone, even if they’ve displayed jackassy behavior in the past but once I’m done with them, I’m done with them.  Then I get so frustrated that it eats away at me, as if I can actually do something about it.  My head knows that those people will never change, that’s just who they are, my heart thinks I could/can do something to make them see the error of their ways.  Yes, I know……..I can’t do anything about those people, stop yelling at me.  I recently sat at a business dinner with one of these people and I’ve pretty much stated to my coworkers that never seeing him again would be too soon for me.  The others just blew him off but now even the mention of his name sends me into a small tantrum.  I’m going to have to seek therapy for this one I think.

I’m jealous of people who just don’t care.   I care too much most times.  I care about people’s businesses, their families, their jobs, their well-being.  If they don’t care, why should I?  I lose sleep over the dumbest crap, not only my dumb crap, other people’s dumb crap.

Well, I’ve realized my list of things to talk to my therapist about has grown so I’m going to quit now.  I can already see my therapist bill rising like the national deficit.


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