My lie down is not of the glamorous beach variety…
Although…I do own this great floppy beach hat. Never worn it though. Not once.
No, I’m just tired. Tired of winter during month 1. Tired of depression, tired of rejection, tired of waking up to the same Groundhog Day over and over.
I’m tired of that feeling in the pit of my stomach. Tired of feeling my family doesn’t appreciate me. Tired of having little to no relationship with extended family. It feels empty.
I’m tired of Kathie Lee and Hoda. I should change the channel, but I’m tired of Rachael Ray. Kathie Lee just told us to “accept things in life”. Good natured wisdom from the rich, famous, and successful. Shut up, Kathie Lee. I’m tired of you.
I’m tired of the John Travolta thing. Adele Dazeem has had her 15 minutes. It is currently Wednesday. Let It Go.
I’m tired of menopause and it just started.
I’m tired of the Facebook places I’m not going to, things I’m not doing, life I’m not living, achievements I’m not achieving. I know we are mostly treated to the good stuff over the less than stellar. But enough of the humble brags already. I’m happy for everyone who goes to Barbados, climbs Mt. Everest for Breast Cancer Awareness and wins the Nobel Peace Prize for literature while making it with Johnny Depp on a private beach. You’re all fabulous! But let’s be honest about the fact that y’all want to impress the hell outta everybody. We all have a burning desire to be important, to know important people, to be a pulsing, vibrant, relevant part of society. I get it. Me too. But I’m kinda Larry David about it. I’d rather cancel my golf date so the guy in the wheel chair next to me doesn’t feel bad he can’t go golfing. I’m weird.
I’m tired of how people put each other on pedestals. We’re all human. Some of us have been fortunate enough to have their talents recognized. Some haven’t. But we all eat, sleep and shit. Government officials like the President of the United States are truly important for obvious reasons, but why do we put ourselves in the position of worshipping and kissing up to others? Why is importance so important in our society? Let’s celebrate the ordinary people just living their lives, for a change and stop condescendingly referring to them/us as “real people” as if the achievers were super human. I’m tired of that. Why are we so afraid of not being famous for 15 minutes? If you have the answer, please tell me, because I’d like to know for myself.
I know. The pedestal is all about association with the successful and positioning ourselves to be where the anointed ones are eventually. I’m tired of that. Aren’t you? Wouldn’t it be great if we all treated each other as though we were all important? Because we are. We all have talents and characteristics that are of value that make us worthy. That way, if we do value someone who is more successful than we are, everyone knows it comes from a genuine place and not of trying to better ourselves. The whole hero worship, quest for importance thing will continue, but I can dream, can’t I?
I’m a realist who’s spent my entire adult life pursuing artistic endeavors: theater, music, photography, writing, with varied levels of success. What I’ve gleaned from my experiences is that it’s never easy and nothing worth doing is, but realistically, it is a combination of who you know, hard work, luck, and being in the right place at the right time.
So, as lovely and inspirational as an Oscar speech from a young first time movie star/Oscar winner is, “whoever you are, wherever you come from…dreams really can come true!”, remember that those speeches come from the 1% of those with a success story. Those who went to Yale Drama School, and were lucky enough to beat out 1,000 other talented candidates because they met very specific criteria. The Disney version of “dreams can come true…it can happen to you” is lovely, but let’s be honest with ourselves. I know that sounds cynical. Because it is cynical. And I know the actor who was nominated for a Best Supporting Actor Oscar at this year’s Academy Awards was a cab driver before he was plucked from obscurity. So I guess I need to do some research on the stats of how often that happens vs. the former scenario. But I think we know the answer.
Oh, you’ll call me cranky, call me cynical, call me sour grapes. But you’ll never call me late for lunch. Instead, just think about it for a minute. I’d like to turn the sour grapes into a fine wine rather than a fine whine.
But right now I’m tired. And I just wanna lie down.Photo by mrsraggle / CC BY