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Understanding the Guilt Complex

My yoga instructor talked about guilt the other day. Interestingly, she attributed it to the Western world. I don’t know if they don’t have guilt in other countries, but she was right; we put ourselves through a lot of guilt for no reason.

I thought it would be fun to share our Guilt Lists and then (virtually) tear them up. Here’s mine.

  • Guilt about not writing enough on all my blogs
  • Guilt about not going to yoga as often as I like
  • Guilt about gaining a few pounds
  • Guilt about being impatient with Max
  • Guilt about drinking too much
  • Guilt about not being the kind of parent who volunteers at school
  • Guilt about not dusting
  • Guilt about not scrubbing the tub
  • Guilt about not taking Max to play outside often enough

Looking at this list I see that none of it is earth-shattering. I think we as women experience more guilt than men. What do you think? And for what? It’s just another stressor in our lives.

So here and now I’m making a proclamation that we will deliberately work harder to NOT feel so guilty. The dishes can wait. We won’t blow up if we don’t exercise all week (or month). That hamburger will not go straight to our thighs.

Life is meant to be enjoyed. Let’s start doing that.

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How to Be Happy for a Friend When You’re Not

I’m a good friend, or at least I like to think I am. I try to change my feelings with the tides of my friends feelings. If it’s I hate him; he’s a jerk, I concur. Once it’s he’s the best thing that ever happened to me, I also concur.

But unfortunately, I also have opinions. Strong ones. Most of the time they don’t get in the way. I love my friends and know that they make the right decisions, and I usually agree with them wholeheartedly.

But there’s this friend. Who’s been dating a crazy woman (I should say girl) for years. Seriously. Crazy. Like snakes in her head. She’s caused enough drama in his (and our) life to have her own reality tv series. And he left her. And moved far away. And all his friends cheered.

Til he moved back. And his Facebook status said Engaged.

I want to get over the fact that she’s falsely accused me of having relations with this friend. That she’s done things to him you simply don’t do in a relationship. That she’s butted in our business with this friend. That she is pure evil. I want to congratulate him and say “I wish you the best” and mean it.

But I can’t. I just can’t.

What do you do when you simply can’t muster up the enthusiasm to be happy for a friend?

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We Was Robbed

What a day. When I got back from my wonderful walk in Balboa Park, I ran upstairs to change. I noticed the trunk at the foot of the bed was open, but didn’t think about it. When I got in the closet, I saw my jewelry box on the floor. Empty. I called my husband to ask if he’d been rifling through our things. Negative.

By now, my heart is pounding and I’m headed out the nearest door. It was the back door. A glass panel had been broken. Full panic mode. I called the police and sat outside. The neighborhood gardener came by and looked around inside to make sure no one was there. No one was.

I became paralyzed with the fear that they’d taken the laptops. Of course they would take the laptops, right? Their thieves, so they would take the valuables. My entire existence at Egg Marketing is on 2 computers. Without them, I’m finished.

They didn’t take a single computer.

At first glance, it seemed they took a handful of useless jewelry (try hocking that, a##holes) and an empty purse. But wait, what’s that big blank spot on the dresser in my office?

Where my camera used to be.

My beloved Nikon that I have been telling myself I didn’t deserve buying for years. The one I saved up and so proudly bought not three months ago. Gone.

Upon further investigation, they also took my Flip camera (just as I decided to get back into vlogging) and the point and shoot we gave Max.

Bitches.

(Sorry Mom, there may be some ugly words in this post). And by “bitches,” I mean it. Turns out several of my neighbors saw two women in a white truck outside my house. They thought it was weird THAT ONE WAS WALKING OUT OF MY BACKYARD WITH A CAMERA BAG but shrugged it off. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

They described the women and the truck but didn’t take down the license plate. So we’re sunk. I have no hope of my stuff coming back.

At first I was stunned. In shock. But now I’m fucking mad. Fuck! (sorry Mom). It’s such an invasion of privacy to have your stuff rifled through and the single most personal item I own taken. It hurts my heart.

And the hub said they had to be watching us and our patterns. Because the entire thing happened within 10 minutes of me leaving.

Of all the houses in all the world, they had to rob ours. :(

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