As I was making my coffee this morning, I had a random flashback to a moment in time that I will never forget — the moment that my daughter’s principal told me “it’s never too early to start thinking about group homes for her in the future.”
At the time, she was only in fourth grade, and I was being told by someone that basically she had no hope of living on her own when she was an adult.
It’s a memory that comes to me often, at the most random times like a bad dream.
It was one of the worst moments of my life, to hear those words so early on in my daughter’s life.
I have had terrible, horrible, no good very bad luck with bosses for my entire life.
I’ve had bosses who have harassed me, bosses who have shamed me, bosses who have gone out of their way to personally make my life miserable… and I just don’t think I can take that anymore.
When I left the workforce to try my hand at freelance designing and writing back in the fall of 2016, I made a promise to myself that I intend to keep:
I will no longer eat shit from assholes.
I will no longer tolerate bad bosses in my life, and I’m afraid that is going to make it hard to be happy in any job I take because you never know going into things what kind of boss you are really going to get.
My entire family, except for my sister who counts her calories and goes to the gym 3–4 times a week, is overweight.
Yes, even my thirteen-year-old daughter is overweight for her height and age and I take on almost all of the responsibility for that, for not making sure she’s always eating the healthiest foods or getting enough exercise.
It is my job as her parent to make sure she grows up healthy, and besides our family’s thunder thigh fat genes, I often look at her and think that it’s my fault she’s overweight, and that’s totally fine with me…
Because she’s not old enough to believe that it’s her own fault.