(originally written around 10:30am today. a couple of things have already changed, so i'll update accordingly within the post using italics.)
i've been mulling over privilege during the past few days or so. i don't have much of it, as a black woman in this current society, but i do have a bit. i've been fighting a cold since last week and i was able to stay home twice - once as an official sick day, and the other by my choosing to work from home - so i could try to get my life together. totally failed at that, as evidenced by the bronchitis diagnosis i received yesterday, but at least i was able to try. i was also able to go to an immediate care clinic near home to get checked out because this coughing is obnoxious and i'm losing at least an hour of sleep a night because of it, which i really can't afford because my sleep pattern is already trash. given that the house of representatives is considering yet another attempt to repeal the aca as i type this (GODDAMMIT, HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES! WHAT THE FUCK?), being able to use my employer-provided insurance and not having to worry about paying hundreds or thousands of dollars out of pocket is a blessing. that same insurance covered all but $12 or so of the medicine i was prescribed for this stupid cough (can you tell i'm beyond over this? ugh).
the whole insurance thing has been on my mind because it's almost been a whole entire year since i had surgery. i know - i can barely believe it myself. it feels like just yesterday when i was having all of the anxiety about the surgery and staying in the hospital overnight (not gonna lie, typing that just now made me shudder, so you know the phobia is real and just typing it again some 11 hours later still creeps me out, btw), but here we are.
i am, of course, incredibly grateful to have access to quality health care, both of the physical and mental varieties, without having to worry too much about how i'm going to pay for it. i'm also thankful for having sick time that allowed me to stay home and recuperate last year after surgery, and that same sick time came in handy this time last week when i realized that yes, i needed to stay home and attempt to rest. who knew i'd end up having 6 nosebleeds on friday, or that i'd lose my voice for 3-4 days, or that i'd come down with a migraine late sunday/early monday after i'd already taken a benadryl for the night and couldn't take a migraine pill and then had all of the migraine-induced nausea, or that this annoying cough would become the bane of my fucking existence? seriously. only i would end up with bronchitis (and a possible sinus infection! woo!) after what appeared to be a regular cold.
i'm also grateful to quasi-landlord, who, after returning home from her louisiana vacation last night, took one look at me and made me a mug of mint tea, even though i'm quite honestly sick of drinking tea and am ready to take a break from hot toddy time. she also brought back pralines and caramels for me, which was awesome because i'd meant to ask her about possible praline souvenirs, but i was too busy having laryngitis and attempting to have a social life because i'd already paid for tickets to things and therefore staying home all weekend was not an option. you should've seen my face last night when quasi-landlord broke out that box of pralines for me. actually, no, you shouldn't have. my cheeks are still kinda blotchy from the migraine-induced nausea, plus my nose is in full rudolph mode, and my hair has basically taken the week off from even pretending to be cooperative when i try to style it. dead sexy, let me tell you.
i'm going to a talk/networking thing at work later this afternoon. i still have a strong aversion to formal networking, mind you, but the talk is being given by one of the highest ranking black women at the firm. i'm still not feeling 100%, but i felt like this was important enough to drag myself into the office. i think that sometimes, it's helpful to see what's possible, even if it's not something i actually want for myself. bonus if #blackgirlmagic is involved somehow. (so glad i sucked it up and went. she said some things that i needed to hear and i swear the universe just knows sometimes.)
i kinda feel like a fraud, though. i was trying to figure out what to wear to work today and even this button-down shirt and these pants scream "trying too hard" to me, despite the fact that it's an outfit i've worn countless times before. i obviously want to be a bit more presentable than usual since i'm going to this shindig, but...i don't know. y'know how sometimes you see folks in full business attire and they just project this sense of "yes, i am a major player in whatever business this is" and you just want to sit in the corner and nurse your drink until it's socially acceptable for you to sneak out without saying anything to anyone? no? just me? dammit.
yes, i know i have lots to offer professionally - i've been working for more than 20 years and i know enough to know that there's so much more that i don't know - but sometimes it still feels as if i have nothing to contribute. not because i don't like my job, because i do actually enjoy what i do most days even if some of the folks i work with drive me up the fucking wall, but because i feel as if i'm not supposed to be (t)here. like i snuck in somehow and at any moment, my cover will be blown and i'll be marched out.
given the thoroughness of the background check that was performed before this job was officially offered to me, there's little to no chance of that actually happening in real life, but it still bugs me. y'all know me. i rarely if ever play myself small. i think i've been referring to myself as queeneulalia or queen of the universe or some permutation thereof since college, so clearly i'm about that "let's dream big!" life.
and yet.
i told myself when i took this job that i would at least try to go to some of these networking events even though i'd much rather be doing hoodrat things with my friends, and if i didn't know or recognize anyone at the event, that i would stay for at least one drink or 15 minutes into the networking part of things. yes, i know the whole point of networking is to make new connections and all that shit, but fuck that. a bitch doesn't really like people like that on most days and i could be at the bar or on my way home or reading a book or eating tacos or whatever instead of sipping questionable red wine and possibly nibbling on cheese and crackers or crudites and making small talk or outwardly feigning interest in whatever's being discussed while trying to figure out how soon i can get back down to my desk to pack up and call it a day. i'm already doing the math in my head - if the networking part starts at 5, i can maybe call it a day at 5:20 at the latest, assuming that i'm able to grab a drink right at 5 or shortly thereafter, and assuming i don't run into anyone i know or feel the need to stay longer. i am also keeping in mind that a coughing fit may strike at any time, despite my meds, and therefore i may have to unfortunately excuse myself when the talk concludes. (i totally left after the talk concluded. i wound up sitting next to another black woman who works on the same floor as i do, so we both agreed that going back to our desks and wrapping things up was the better use of our time. she did introduce me to someone that she knew, though, so i did actually meet one new person. that totally counts. 😀)
yes, i'm serious. yes, i know it's not really that serious in the whole scheme of things but yes, it is that serious to me. don't knock the coping mechanism until you've tried it...and even then, you shouldn't knock it. just because it doesn't suit you doesn't mean that it won't be great for someone else. 💜
