Inadequacy And Regret

Inadequacy doesn't even sound like a real word, right? Say it ten times slowly and you'll see what I mean.

But it's real, alright, real, live and in color, seated at the right hand of my life, just toddling about with it's buddy regret as if it belonged here.

It's there at work, when I'm hanging with friends, when I'm in The Heights getting my hair done- it just keeps following me around like a sick puppy.

It was especially present on Career Day this past Saturday.

I hate to ruin my rep as a hard ass and admit this, but, I felt like a total loser and failure standing in front of those kids. All my life I've always told myself, "NO REGRETS" and thought I was living by that motto happily until I stood in that classroom next to someone who was 5 years my junior and living my dream (well, sorta). It was like I was on Nickelodeon, and someone dropped a big old bucket of green regret on my head, plus I'd forgotten to wear pants or study for the test and I didn't bring any number 2 pencils and we were on the roof and I was about to fall off the ledge. Plus I was pregnant. All of my fears and nightmares rolled into one.

Now, I'm a pretty good bullshit artist, so I don't think it showed during the presentation, but on the inside I was all sorts of green... she had the cool magazine job that allowed her face time with celebs and comp tickets to movie and music festivals all over the world. Plus she had a fancy title. I felt so relieved when another Class of '93 alum showed up and I was able to run off and ditch her to catch up with him instead of making small talk with her; my feelings of inadequacy were just oozing out of my pores!

And it was soooo stupid of me because you know what? I don't give a rats ass about celebrity news, and if I had to work at one of those nosy, gossip weeklies I really wouldn't be happy. I know my real dream is to win that Pulitzer for literature, get my PhD and be the head honcho at my own media empire, specializing in cultural entertainment. Not that, "What is Britney wearing" stuff but rather a "You must see this new exhibit at MoMA" or "This new indie film/artist blew me away" stuff.

But I still let it get to me. And while I'm owning the fact that it was all in my head (thanks, Jack) I'm just, I don't know, PISSED that I let these emotions runneth over. Like, HELLO, McFLY?!?! I'm the SHIT, right?? What's with the fucking pity party?

So I called Jack and we talked it out and I thought I was better. THEN I had to pass up an opportunity to go to Spain for a week in June because Ks graduation falls right smack in the middle of the trip. THEN I had to skip out on a recent event because I had to go home and cook. And I don't want to be one of those people that blames their kids or anything because, hey, nobody told me to let that fool hit it raw, right? But those thoughts pop up on their own... the what ifs.

What if I'd taken my studies seriously. What if I'd broken up with my ex as planned and had an abortion. What if I'd studied abroad in Italy. Or moved to Santo Domingo to live. So many evil thoughts that I want no part of, and one stupid little Career Day brings it all up. That's what I get for not taking it, or my life for that matter, seriously.

WOO LAWD I need me some Ani right about now...



OKAY.

Enough of this pity party sappy bullshit.

I can't go wasting these opposable thumbs wiping away tears from feelings of inadequacy and regret... me got some bold moves to make, yuh know.

*smooches...surrounding myself with art and life and words*
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Spring is right around the corner and I hardly have time for a bout of depression.