How I cope with working with the public and much, much more
I manage 185 properties in addition to doing financial consulting, credit repair, and real estate. I also write a blog and write for Medium. When I’m not working, I have a husband, four children, two step-children, two dogs, two birds, and a turtle to take care of.
Needless to say, my life is a huge stress ball minus squeezing satisfaction. The constant effort to manage my stress is the only reason that I am felony free.
I often get asked how I handle my chaotic life. It is always stressful, never boring, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. However, I would do all kinds of shady things for just one night alone in a hotel room. Until that happens, I have to find peace and de-stress where I can.
I don’t know what I did in my past life, but whatever it was had to have been really bad. I have had the worst luck, being accident-prone, have awkward tendencies, and stay moderately to extremely annoyed on a very consistent basis since the day I was born.
It started upon my delivery unto this earth and has lasted up into this very point of my life. This point in which I am sitting on my front porch writing while my 14-year-old tries to annoy me non-stop, as usual, by screeching like a car alarm.
My husband is inside and completely incapacitated on the couch watching tv in a comatose-like state. Although I know otherwise, he looks like he has never even heard of the word stress. I would give almost anything to have that kind of peace of mind for just five minutes.
My Oasis
That sounds fancy, but it’s just my damn bathroom. Every night, I take a hot bubble bath with a glass or seven of wine. I am in heaven until I leave. I try to ignore the children sitting outside my door, but I can still hear them.
It is still an amazing time to relax and practice mindful breathing. I have to be very careful not to fall asleep. I just know I’ll die in some stupid way like this or trip over a Cheeto.
My Friends
I am absolutely blessed to have a huge tribe of friends. I have most of these friends for twenty or more years. When life gets to be too much for me, I take a day off and become a kid again with my friends. We like to do stupid, silly things the same as we did 20 years ago. Laughter is a big part of my life and one of the main reasons that I am still sane. It is most definitely a coping mechanism for me. I do consider it to be the best medicine.
I cannot overemphasize how important it is to have good friends no matter your age or circumstance. If you don’t have any, make some. E-mail me, I’ll be glad to be your friend. I love learning about other people.
Animals
My animals remind me constantly that there is loyalty and innocence left in this world. However minimal it may be, is beside the point. There’s absolutely nothing that I could do to offend them that they would not forgive me for, even fake throwing a ball. Which I would not do as I am not a monster.
I have spent my whole life looking for a love of this nature. At this point, I think the only thing close to the love of an animal is the love of a mother. There is nothing that those little #### *’s could do that would make me love them any less.
Mosaics
The latest of the many hobbies I have tried over my life is mosaic art and I am surprised to say that I love it. I am considering sticking with it. As I am a novice, I am not the best at it yet. But I plan to be, as I always do. It is relaxing and creative outlet for me. And it’s really hard to make a bad looking mosaic.
Reading
I have been an avid reader my whole life. I started reading at the young age of four and have not taken a break from it since. I like every genre and it is by far my favorite thing to do to relax, much to the annoyance of my husband. He would rather that I watch television with him than do anything else. Explaining the allure of reading to a non-reader is all but impossible.
Writing
Writing is more than a hobby to me. It’s cathartic and I feel like it helps me more than therapy ever did. I write things that are funny to me and aren’t for many others. I write about the hard moments and good ones. Some, actually most, of the items I write will never see the light of day. Which is, most likely, a good thing for everyone.
Music
I have more Spotify playlists than bras. I have a playlist for every mood and I listen to all genres. Well, except for classical. I don’t think there is enough social training in the world for that. Music can take me from almost any mood and transform me to a completely new one within minutes. I can go from being a thug to a western star to singing old school rock within minutes on any of my playlists. It’s one of many reasons that my kids find me uncool.
So, there you have it. Those are the real things I do, minus the binge drinking of course, at home to help deal with some of my stress. Is a felony assault charge attractive to me after half an hour of verbal abuse? I won’t lie. Yes, it is. But, I just grin and bear it.
I also like to keep a decent attitude when allowable by my tenants, husband or kids. But sometimes, that is just impossible, so I throw on some loud music, say a few motivational cuss words to myself, and carry on with my life. Then, I do it all again the next day.
Yellow mustard or Dijon? I think you know the answer to that question
Success is a stalker. He eases up behind you without any notice if you’re not paying attention. And you won’t be paying attention because, to gain success, you’ll be hard at work.
Sometimes, we are so hard at work we don’t notice the signs of success starting to surround us. I am here to bring awareness to those signs as they show up, as subtle as they may be.
Money
The first sign of success will be that you have money in your account instead of zero or negative. You may even have CASH in your wallet. This is often the most blatant sign and is usually pretty clear. But I am not immune to the fact that some of my readers are not very smart. I’m doing what I can to spell out even this very big, blatant sign of success for you.
Sugar
Shortly after starting to succeed, you will notice a change in your sugar. Suddenly, loose sugar just doesn’t cut it anymore. You will only take your sugar in cubes. This does make baking hard, I won’t lie. You might even find yourself shopping for a crystal bowl to store your cubes
Taste Buds
You will no longer taste things the same once you experience success. Yellow mustard won’t cut it anymore. You will have to have a Dijon blend. You sure as hell won’t eat catfish anymore. It will only be a bland white fish. Your water will have to be sparkling. You will find a ding-dong, either kind, at the gas station, disgusting.
You will actually get offended when people offer you the condiments of the peasants. Try to keep that reigned in. Nobody likes an asshole, successful or not.
Pronunciation
I’m sure by now you’ve already guessed that when you become successful you will start pronouncing things differently. The first thing is you will call a vase a vaz. You will sound classy as f**k.
A potato will be pronounced a potah-toe.
Target will be Tarjay.
Don’t fight it. You’ll only end up looking foolish.
Clothing
You will always look like you are going sailing. It doesn’t matter where you live or what you are actually going to do. It will always look like you are going sailing.
I hope these tips help you as much as they have not helped me. Since, I’m not successful. Obviously.
Sometimes, we just don’t have any good answers for our children, especially when death is concerned. Sometimes, we just cannot make the pain go away. I had to fight myself against issuing generic platitudes to my grieving son because no answers were sufficient for the questions that he had when he lost his best friend suddenly.
Don’t be dismayed by good-byes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again, after moments or lifetimes, is certain for those who are friends.
Richard Bach
I have four kids and two stepchildren that are the center of my universe. My youngest son, and third child, has suffered a tremendous loss at only the tender age of 13. His best friend and sidekick died. For the sake of his family’s privacy, I will call this young man Daryl in this article. Daryl will be remembered by more than his family. My son is going to make sure of that.
Daryl was a bright thirteen year old boy that liked to play video games online and basketball outside of my house with the local neighborhood boys. My son, Nolan bonded with him quickly over their mutual love for Kobe Bryant, dark humor, video games, and attitudes.
Daryl had fought and overcome cancer three times in his short little life. He had most recently gotten the stats to indicate he was beating it again.
You never heard him complain, but he had a life filled with pain. He would be missing in action during the worst parts, but continually stayed in contact with my son via online messaging. My son was not one to talk about it. Like many boys are apt to be when it comes to emotions, he dealt with it in his own way and still does.
When COVID came around, Daryl was confined to his room. His immune system was already battered so his parents weren’t taking any chances by not issuing a strict quarantine. They spent the summer playing video games online and plaguing each other with dark jokes and pranks. They were showing their love as boys will.
School
Three days before school was to be let back in session, Daryl’s mom went to wake him and found that he had passed away in his bed. Though he was beating the cancer, he had passed away from a sudden aneurism.
Nolan found out later on that day and came to tell me right away. They had played on the X-box the night before and he seemed fine, my son told me in shock.
As grief tends to do, it had a delayed reaction on Nolan. He would forget for a moment and then he would go to text him and remember. He would get online and remember.
I believe the grief took a toll on his immune system because within days he was fighting a huge swollen gland from a sudden bout of mono and strep throat. Days after getting on antibiotics, he developed a mono rash. He ended up missing the first two weeks back to school.
I didn’t realize how deep the friendship had gone until I took him to school on his first day. Signing him in, the office staff all gathered around and hugged him and told him how sorry they were. It seemed that the boys were something of a duo at the school.
Art
A few weeks later, I came home from work and went to greet all of the kids, which is my routine when I come in the door. After I greet the animals, of course.
I found Nolan in his room thumbing through a journal. He told me that for art class they all had to keep an art journal with drawings, thoughts, and the such. He said that after class the art teacher had given Daryl’s art journal to him.
Without me even telling him, he told me that he wanted to make a copy for himself and carry the original to Daryl’s mother. The image of the young boy’s self painted image in the journal made tears well up in my own eyes. Not to mention the fact that my teenager, famous for no empathy towards anyone but himself within our household, was showing empathy towards Daryl’s family.
I took the journal to work and made the copy. It was filled with what you would expect from a thirteen year old boy being forced to journal, but I knew the gift would be a priceless artifact given to a grieving mother. Another link to a love like no other.
This will not be the last time my son experiences a tragedy. I am proud of the way he has handled this loss and the way he continues to keep Daryl’s memory alive by talking about him. All too often, people try and drown pain away by ignoring it. Only by dealing with our emotions will we ever truly heal from any heartbreak or pain.
There is no explanation for a life cut that short. I won’t lie and say it’s part of a plan I’m not privy to. The only thing I can say for sure is that where he went has to be so much better than what he went through here during his short, pain filled existence.
Hold your loved ones tight. We never know when a moment will be the last.
I know this was a depressing article so if you would like to laugh now, here is a link to my latest Medium article about being a Golddigger!
As I am going through some health/mental issues, I have been surprised with how much art has helped me.
I have never been very good at it, but it can be learned just as any other skill. for the time being, I am just using art to cope with all the changes in my life.
A chickenMosaic heart made for my friend Digital artDigital Art from Author
I have every faith that I will be OK, but when I get nervous I will continue to use this as an outlet. I also welcome any other suggestions!
The older I get, the more confused I get. What the f@@k is happening? Is the world going to shit? Or am I old enough now to start to notice what has always been visible to everyone else?
I get confused by the hatred that is generated by adults. I get confused by violence and hate and racism and misogyny. I get confused and angry about animal abuse and elder abuse and child abuse. But, I think these are things we all get confused and angry about. We all should anyways.
This article is about some other things I have been confused about recently. These things probably aren’t what most of you normal people even think about. I just assumed normal people thought about cream of wheat and Jeopardy. And the weather, obviously.
But, if I have pondered about these odd things, I know at least one other person has as well. I can’t be the only one noticing these things. If I’m not though, why is nobody talking about this?
Juja Han Via Unsplash
Foot fetishes: What in the ever loving f&@k?
What happened during these peoples formative years to make them turn out like this? At what point did they decide a foot was a sexualized object? Beyond that, do they fantasize about marrying a foot? Do they want to date the foot? Or is it just another thing to assault with a penis?
And what part of the foot is it that is sexy? The hammertoes with the toe jam. Or the crusty ass heels. I am just saying that I have seen some nasty feet and I have no desire to ever get sexual with a foot.
Do they want a clean foot? Or do they want one that smells like feet? How does one make love to a foot? No, I don’t want to look and watch a video. I want someone to tell me. I’ll be less traumatized that way.
Where did roly polys go?
When I was a kid they were everywhere, chilling with their pals the earthworms. Why is nobody talking about this? They are both GONE.
Please bring back the roly poly.
My roly poly was the only pet I had for the first 11 years of my life. Besides the pet rock, but I don’t count that anymore.
I think he probably died every day and my mom just got me a new one from out in the yard. Because he was always on the counter only at 4 o’clock until my bedtime.
Did I really not have any pet? Was that the most genius get my kid a pet move in the history of parenting? I don’t wanna know if that was a different Roly Poly every day. Because I loved one roly-poly whose name was Ronald.
And yes, I named him after the greatest leader this country has ever seen. The clown that runs McDonald’s.
Reagan was the greatest President
I really named my Ronald after the greatest president of all time, Ronald Reagan. I don’t normally like to talk about politics, but I am completely flabbergasted that we have elected this person to run our country.
I think we all can agree that it worked out once having a movie star as a president but, after this latest debacle, I think we should make a rule that anybody in the entertainment industry cannot be president.
Unsplash
What happened to long distance and collect calling?
I miss calling people collect. It would be cool if we were notified when we did something that it would be the last time we would ever do it. I didn’t know the last time I played outside it would be the last time.
I didn’t know the last time my son got in bed to watch a movie with me it would be the last time. I didn’t know when I talked to my father it would be the last time.
I’m gonna need somebody to start giving us some warning.
I definitely would have ran some charges up if I had known the last time I was making a collect call. I would’ve made it count.
Why is it good to keep your enemies closer than your friends?
Wouldn’t you get them confused? I don’t want my friends and my enemies all willy-nilly together. They would just all blend together eventually.
I like to keep my enemies strictly over there with the assholes. By over there I mean in a corner or a ditch. Just kidding. I’m a super nice person.
Photo by Claudio Swartz via Unsplash
Why would you want in one hand and shit in the other and see which one fills up faster?
My mom used to say this all the time and I still don’t understand what in the hell it means.
Why would you shit in one hand and see if it filled up faster if you wanted in the other hand? That doesn’t even make any sense.
However, my mama is not the type of mama you can argue with or even ask what something means. All of that is considered backtalk and is punishable by an ass whooping.
So if I asked for something and she didn’t wanna give it to me she would just tell me that saying that made no sense at all.
I vowed I would never do that to my kids. That was the first of many lies I would tell myself.
Kylie’s Rants 