Welcome to my little ol' blog. I'll be upfront about it: I don't blog very often any more. If you found your way here because you read my book "Trailer Life," have a gander! But it's easier to keep up with me on Instagram or on my Facebook page. I have this long, drawn out theory on why I'm a terrible blogger, but that is a story for another day. Enjoy the ramblings of my life from the last 8 years or so.

Saturday, April 20, 2013

Humble Pie

I have been served a good dose of humble pie. I ordered it, based on something I said several months ago. Let me tell you how humble pie tastes. It's salty. This is due in part to the tears that are shed. True remorse is so unpleasant...but at the same time kind of liberating. Although one weight has been placed on my shoulders, another one has been lifted. The new weight is lighter. I know the weight will get lighter with each bite I swallow of my humble pie. It also tastes bitter...very unpleasant.

You know, I don't wake up in the morning thinking, "How can I hurt someone I love today?" But it happened. And I felt wrong about it when it happened, but I thought it was so isolated that it wouldn't matter to anyone but me, and that I would have to live with the burden of knowing what I said. [Read: my mouth got the best of me.] But no, that's not always how it works. And today, oddly enough I am grateful for it. Because it is an excellent reminder of what is important. Because some things are important, even if you don't always realize just how much until those things are hurt or gone.

I will be okay. I will repent, I have apologized. I have confidence that I will get over this, that I will stop feeling so horrible in due time. I hope the someone I hurt (and this is just the one I know about. I am sure I have much apologizing to do in general... hello, hubby!) won't hurt for long, because that just seems inexcusable on my part. Am I hard on myself? I don't think so. I have high expectations, and I didn't meet them. Right now I feel like the best place for me to be is under a rock, hiding from everyone. I can't do that though. I'm claustrophobic and I might die. [Side note: I can be slightly humorous even when I feel miserable and I can barely see through the tears. You either laugh or cry through life, and my preference is to laugh. Now that I'm crying, the laughter (really, a small smile) wants to creep through.]

A small part of me is glad I screwed up. It is a good reminder of who I am...and I am not perfect. It just sucks that someone's feelings got hurt in the process.

I want to give myself a pep talk, saying clever things like, "The only direction to go from here is forward... and up."  "Live to a higher standard, dear, because you are better than that and you know it." And, my favorite, "Don't be a jerk."

Will do, self. Will do.

[If anyone besides myself reads this, I won't give details. So don't ask. Don't call. I don't want to discuss. And although I have shed tears today, and I am an ugly crier and do my best to never, ever cry, I have today. And, that's okay. Don't feel sorry for me. I'm not writing and asking for a pity party. You might see me smiling tonight, or tomorrow. Because life does go on, and I can live it while working on my troubles in the back of my head.]

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