Ball of Confusion

...that's what my world is today... hey, hey....

Thanks, Love&Rockets, for a song I always hated but that now is tormenting, haunting, and plaguing me, playing loudly inbetween my ears over and over, all day long.

The thing is, I'm a fundamentally happy gal.  Annoyingly chipper most of the time, screamingly optimistic behind a thin and somewhat giggly veneer of irony and sarcasm.  The glass is always 100% full.  Sweet. Nice. Laughs and smiles a lot.  Direct.  Honest.  Easy to talk to.  Etc.

Breaking news:  I'm a spoiled brat.

I am so used to getting what I want, sans effort, sailing along, that I really have no idea how to decide what I want or develop strategies to get it.  I'm a generalist with a sharp mind, charm, and even better luck.  I rarely know exactly the answer but I always know who to ask to get it... so I do.  And people usually tell me.  That's my strategy.  And man, am I lucky.  I have great acquaintances and the most awesome of friends: wonderful, kind, brilliant, selfless, successful people who want to help and sincerely want the best for me.  So I consult.  Surely someone will tell me what to do; I will implement their advice, et voila!  Happiness ensues, The End.

Here's the rub, boys and girls:  The more advice I get, the more confused and upset I get.  And the more confused and upset I get, the more I consult... until the inevitable breakdown when I completely shut down. 

We've all been there, even the most positive and social among us.  The shutdown comes along when all avenues seem to lead to oblivion, and you want to stop the madness.   And right now, I just want to stop talking about it.  But I can't. Because if I do, then I cannot effect change.  And inertia is not an option.

Catch 22, thy name is K.

Annoying, isn't it?  Annoying to experience and consume your thoughts and lose sleep over and wail to your long-suffering peeps about.  Annoying to deal with your friend who is in the throes of it because your friend feels bad about bothering you about it so doesn't want to talk about it but talks about it constantly and even when she doesn't she's so distracted and looks so sad, on the precipice of tears, that all the other friends gather around to talk about how to deal with it because they love the friend and want them to be happy and want her back.  It could be about anything. Love, family, friends, career, finances, housing options, kids, pets, choice of tile for the bathroom.  It's a soap opera without the flattering lighting and daytime eveningwear.

So, what's an eternal optimist with a hefty guilt complex overtaken only by a searing sense of self-confidence to do in these situations?

She reminds herself of how f#^%&*ing fortunate she is.  She sends a love letter to her friends.  A promise to suck it up and get 'er done.  A letter of gratitude for their patience and total lack of eye rolling and Moonstruck-style face-slapping.  And a promise: to always have their backs, no matter what, no matter when, no matter how.  A solid-as-a-rock, capital-P, Promise.  No judgment, ever.  No  questions asked.  No explanations expected or needed, ever.   And a sincere, bottom-of-the-heart thanks for their support and love and advice.  Because no matter what, they will all succeed, to astronaut-esque levels.  In this life, and in any Hereafter there may or may not be.

We already have, because we have each other.  And at the end of the day, my wonderful, brilliant and beautiful friends, you ground me, and you give me wings.  I thought of that today, when thinking of the One Who Has My Heart (and thanks to The Friends for that, too... for the intro, the encouragement, the calmness in the face of panic, the sanity and the reason and the encouragement and the judgment-free zone, and the shared happiness).... but this is true of True Friendship.  For me, it is my Girls who are my collective Red Bull.  T'will ever be thus.  Je t'aime, pas mal follement, mesdames.

Moi