The art of saying no...
It's so hard to turn down a social invitation that you've replied "maybe" to. It shouldn't be! And it's probably not a big deal to anyone else, but I just spent 30 minutes of my Friday night stressing out over a response of "it's all good" to my text saying we weren't going to make it this evening. The quick response back, the fact that there's no exclamation point, etc, etc; I be stressin'.
I have a tummy ache, I want to chill on the couch, and really, I'm not that important! So what's with the guilt of saying no? I know it's ridiculous, I mean, I'm glad I'm not there holding my farts in and shyly, awkwardly making small talk to people I sort of know, while trying to suck in my gut so no one secretly thinks about how much weight I've gained {must be all those cupcakes I ate after dog manners class}.
I'm going to curl up in my special snowflake blankie and watch tv with the hubs, Fridays are for Five-O. What I should be thinking is that I'm thankful for understanding friends, and the fact that I'm strong enough to make a choice for myself.
Edited to add: I stressed through the night about this, only to receive a friendly text from the hostess the next day. The weight off my shoulders was lifted!!! But I should never have put that weight there in the first place. Something to try for another day...
Monday, May 30, 2016
Monday, May 23, 2016
Post 3
Now that I know there's this big socially awkward THING out there I realize that I can recount things from childhood all the way up to yesterday that make me cringe a little inside. And I've just had my eyes opened up that this is not normal. Who was to know that not everyone gets home from a social event and re-hashes all of their conversations, cray.
Also, have you seen the meme's out there?! Love love love. It almost makes the crippling embarrassment worth it because of how funny the retrospect is... almost.
Let's dig into the vault for another awkward moment...
When C and I adopted little B (the pup) he was the cutest little terror, albeit so much of a terror that I almost didn't notice his cuteness. He fucked shit up, every damn day. We finally decided to enroll him is some dog manners classes, which were insanely hard for me to get the courage to go to. I stressed the.whole.time we were at those damn classes and obviously stressed C out through osmosis.
Unfortunately C was away at work for the middle two classes. I considered not showing up but coming home to that sweet little pup and a house full of wrecked stuff and tooth holes in all of my cardigans was enough to push me to class, promising myself a cupcake or 4 on the way home.
We learned all sorts of awesome training methods and I can proudly say a year and a half later it super paid off. I can also say that my stomach still clenches when we drive by the building where class was held. I digress...
We were learning a sequence of commands for the pups to follow, going in the order of "sit" "yes" "watch me" "yes" "touch" "yes" followed by a treat for their efforts. But B was the youngest one there, and really wanted to play, and I was frustrated and waaaay out of my comfort zone and, well, me. So as we were going through the commands and I was trying to be patient and keep his attention, I kept mixing the commands up and saying "touch me".
So in front of all these other people, who I hope to gosh were minding their own damn business and focusing on their own dogs, I was commanding TOUCH ME to B. After about 15 mins I heard what I was saying, but spent another 30 at least trying to train myself out of it, and another few days at home.
We had all sorts of other adventures at these classes, such as the day that B pissed all over my boots in front of everyone, a fuck you of sorts for leash training I suppose.
But I have to say, I love the little guy so much that I was able to put aside my huge anxieties and attended all of those classes and give it my all. I walked him and gave commands in front of the whole class, and my voice may have shook (it did in my head) but I persevered and I'll be damned if we didn't graduate. Got a little certificate and everything.
The little dude is just as cute these days, and only half the devil at almost two years old that he was at 6 months. He fills my heart and he calms my anxieties. He forces me to get out of the house and to talk to people. He also does an awesome sit, watch me, touch sequence.
Also, have you seen the meme's out there?! Love love love. It almost makes the crippling embarrassment worth it because of how funny the retrospect is... almost.
Let's dig into the vault for another awkward moment...
When C and I adopted little B (the pup) he was the cutest little terror, albeit so much of a terror that I almost didn't notice his cuteness. He fucked shit up, every damn day. We finally decided to enroll him is some dog manners classes, which were insanely hard for me to get the courage to go to. I stressed the.whole.time we were at those damn classes and obviously stressed C out through osmosis.
Unfortunately C was away at work for the middle two classes. I considered not showing up but coming home to that sweet little pup and a house full of wrecked stuff and tooth holes in all of my cardigans was enough to push me to class, promising myself a cupcake or 4 on the way home.
We learned all sorts of awesome training methods and I can proudly say a year and a half later it super paid off. I can also say that my stomach still clenches when we drive by the building where class was held. I digress...
We were learning a sequence of commands for the pups to follow, going in the order of "sit" "yes" "watch me" "yes" "touch" "yes" followed by a treat for their efforts. But B was the youngest one there, and really wanted to play, and I was frustrated and waaaay out of my comfort zone and, well, me. So as we were going through the commands and I was trying to be patient and keep his attention, I kept mixing the commands up and saying "touch me".
So in front of all these other people, who I hope to gosh were minding their own damn business and focusing on their own dogs, I was commanding TOUCH ME to B. After about 15 mins I heard what I was saying, but spent another 30 at least trying to train myself out of it, and another few days at home.
We had all sorts of other adventures at these classes, such as the day that B pissed all over my boots in front of everyone, a fuck you of sorts for leash training I suppose.
But I have to say, I love the little guy so much that I was able to put aside my huge anxieties and attended all of those classes and give it my all. I walked him and gave commands in front of the whole class, and my voice may have shook (it did in my head) but I persevered and I'll be damned if we didn't graduate. Got a little certificate and everything.
The little dude is just as cute these days, and only half the devil at almost two years old that he was at 6 months. He fills my heart and he calms my anxieties. He forces me to get out of the house and to talk to people. He also does an awesome sit, watch me, touch sequence.
Monday, May 16, 2016
Post 2
That time G shit on the floor...
G shits on the floor a lot. She's a 16 year old bichon cocker spaniel and old age has kicked in when it comes to matters of the bathroom. I don't mind. She's the one of two childhood dogs I have left in my life and her sweet snuggles and years of dedication far outweigh a little time spent sanitizing the floor.
My parents recently went on a trip to Whistler and I happily offered to take G for the week. C and I have a dog of our own (B), a sweet energetic young thang that reminds G of how old she is. To give her a break from the rumbles and tumbles of puppy-hood, I brought her along to work with me. Super! Everyone thought she was the darn cutest (she is super cute). She charmed everyone and we were having a great time hanging at the office.
I was keeping a close eye out for any incidentals, but hourly strolls outside seemed to alleviate the threat of an indoor accident... until it didn't.
We've had some new construction going on at the office and I was pleased that a nice guy I graduated with got the job. I considered him a cool kid of sorts, and still feel a little honored if he speaks to me. This is dumb, but it's a part of my social awkwardness! He was waiting to get a word in with my boss so we were chatting in the office, he paid G some nice attention, we caught up on life a little, etc. I was thinking to myself, "look at you go, having a normal conversation and not breaking out in a sweat hardly at all, keep up the good work, friend!!", he was mid-sentence telling me that his wife is pregnant and their baby is due in a month when my eyes are drawn to the big pile of poo that he is standing in and casually, unbeknownst to him, spreading around on the office floor. My mind went blank. So so blank.
I'm not sure if he noticed my sudden awkward silence but he ended off his sentence and headed back out to work, tired of waiting for boss-man, while I watched a poo trail follow him on out the door. G and I shared a FUCK look before I grabbed some toilet paper, bleach cleaner, and a Swiffer Wet Jet that I found stashed in the bathroom. We were mostly in the clear when my boss got off the phone. As he headed out back to talk to the victim of G's poo attack he kindly asked, "oh no, did she pee?".
"Yeah, shoot." I replied as I inconspicuously tossed a bag full of TP and shit into the bathroom garbage...
I went over this situation about 10 million times in my head and almost cried (embarrassment? regret for how I handled it?) before I realized how fucking hilarious it was. I'm still torn between feeling brutally humiliated and piss-my-pants laughing at the situation. Also, I am now aware of what a huge jerk I am for not saying anything. Welcome to social anxiety, yo.
G shits on the floor a lot. She's a 16 year old bichon cocker spaniel and old age has kicked in when it comes to matters of the bathroom. I don't mind. She's the one of two childhood dogs I have left in my life and her sweet snuggles and years of dedication far outweigh a little time spent sanitizing the floor.
My parents recently went on a trip to Whistler and I happily offered to take G for the week. C and I have a dog of our own (B), a sweet energetic young thang that reminds G of how old she is. To give her a break from the rumbles and tumbles of puppy-hood, I brought her along to work with me. Super! Everyone thought she was the darn cutest (she is super cute). She charmed everyone and we were having a great time hanging at the office.
I was keeping a close eye out for any incidentals, but hourly strolls outside seemed to alleviate the threat of an indoor accident... until it didn't.
We've had some new construction going on at the office and I was pleased that a nice guy I graduated with got the job. I considered him a cool kid of sorts, and still feel a little honored if he speaks to me. This is dumb, but it's a part of my social awkwardness! He was waiting to get a word in with my boss so we were chatting in the office, he paid G some nice attention, we caught up on life a little, etc. I was thinking to myself, "look at you go, having a normal conversation and not breaking out in a sweat hardly at all, keep up the good work, friend!!", he was mid-sentence telling me that his wife is pregnant and their baby is due in a month when my eyes are drawn to the big pile of poo that he is standing in and casually, unbeknownst to him, spreading around on the office floor. My mind went blank. So so blank.
I'm not sure if he noticed my sudden awkward silence but he ended off his sentence and headed back out to work, tired of waiting for boss-man, while I watched a poo trail follow him on out the door. G and I shared a FUCK look before I grabbed some toilet paper, bleach cleaner, and a Swiffer Wet Jet that I found stashed in the bathroom. We were mostly in the clear when my boss got off the phone. As he headed out back to talk to the victim of G's poo attack he kindly asked, "oh no, did she pee?".
"Yeah, shoot." I replied as I inconspicuously tossed a bag full of TP and shit into the bathroom garbage...
I went over this situation about 10 million times in my head and almost cried (embarrassment? regret for how I handled it?) before I realized how fucking hilarious it was. I'm still torn between feeling brutally humiliated and piss-my-pants laughing at the situation. Also, I am now aware of what a huge jerk I am for not saying anything. Welcome to social anxiety, yo.
Friday, May 13, 2016
Post 1
Social anxiety is a fickle thing. I didn't even know it was a thing until my therapist put a name to my awkward description of it. I immediately went home and googled the shit out of it, and I'll be damned if I haven't been hampered by it f.o.r. a.g.e.s... possibly f.o.r.e.v.e.r???
Welcome to the messy moments in a life that looks pretty tidy from the outside.
Welcome to the messy moments in a life that looks pretty tidy from the outside.
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