Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Sticks and Stones

It doesn't matter what other people think, right? Then why do I care so much? Why do I care what a random person says about me? Why is bugging the heck out of me that someone (that I wouldn't normally have even associated with for more than 20 seconds at a time) is most likely conversing with another random someone about the disorganized, bumbling, flaky-flake they believe me to be?

If I'm going to be 100% honest, I'll have to admit... because it's partly true. Despite the fact that I begged for help (3 times!) and tried to find someone else to take on the responsibility that I grudgingly agreed to do, the fact of the matter is that I DID say yes and I DIDN'T do a good job. And that? BUGS ME. It irritates me more than the snippy email I received. It irritates me more than the looks I will receive the next time I see them. Owning this problem does NOT sit well with me. In fact, it is giving me a rolling stomachache. And I own it. Oh yes. I own it...

Gah... I am ok when taking care of my own family. I can organize us. But to organize other people? NOT MY CUP OF TEA. Sigh... Lesson learned, I guess.
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