BA Is Effing Crazy | Heir to Blair

Can we talk?

13 Dec posted by heirtoblair

Just…pull up a comfy chair & a cup of coffee, okay?

I’m in that place of whirling chaos & craving a quiet day where the clock seems to move at a slower pace. Where I can sew an advent calendar with warm coffee in my mug, or watch a movie with my boys, or maybe bake cookies from scratch. Where I’m not sitting in traffic almost three hours per day, wondering how I will fit all my work in, trying to remember if I bought the right cream-of-soup for dinner. I try to remember to be in the moment, to find specific parts of my day where I let my mind clear & I am deliberate in my thoughts – I chose the shower, which is odd to most people, but it’s where I feel the tension fall & I can block out calendars & deadlines & Excel spreadsheets. On weekends, I find myself sitting at the table tapping out emails to my boss while Harrison sits to my left, elbows-deep in PlayDough.

It’s a weird work-life balance that always feels close to tipping clean over.

I try to train my thoughts, when I am thisclose to snapping at my long commute, but then I work to discipline myself to be thankful for the job to be leaving every night & the warm home to return to. I am luckier than most.

When I’m stressed over a spreadsheet with over 200 entries & codes to enter, I remember that my boss gave me a shot only one month in & named me Project Associate to a huge partnership. The flattery in it is both exciting & intimidating. I want so badly to please them all.

I laugh at all the confessions in my post about aching hips & smelly feet & “ombre” hair & how motherhood makes us all feel kinda lumpy both inside & out.

I wonder what I will write next & worry my words will fall stale & ~~my words~~ my heart will become irrelevant. I try to focus on the keyboard in front of me, but I worry that I will never know the secret knock to the cool kids club. (is there a secret knock?)

I try to figure out a way to squeeze in the gym or a run or a stretch, but I’m not sure how to create an extra in my day without sacrificing something that can’t be sacrificed at this point. Maybe some day, but not right now.

Most of the time, I feel like this:

scream1 bw Can we talk?

Only very, very oddly happy.

25 Comments
Filed Under: All about BA, BA is effing crazy, BA's a nerd, Fears, Finding Balance

Why you should never take me too seriously, no matter what I write.

29 Nov posted by heirtoblair

This morning, I rushed through the slogging cold rain into our building, paying no mind to my wet heels or the marble floor, clicking towards the elevators & hoping the traffic didn’t keep me from beating my boss into the office.

I’m still in that weird “please like me!” stage where I hope to beat him in every day.

I rounded the corner, dodged a column, & WHAM! faceplanted. I’m still shocked that I did not
a) break my ankle
b) blow out my knee
c) break my wrist
d) all of the above.

But the first thought through my mind was, “HOLY SHIT, I just ate marble in front of at least ten of my new colleagues.” & I was thrown back thirteen years when I fell UP the steps of the high school building in front of the popular seniors. So I did what any ~~normal~~ ~~sane~~ drama queen would do. I moaned & rolled onto my back, clutching my ankle. One lady offered her concern, but I sheepishly got up & limped to the elevator, where everyone avoided eye contact for the next four stories.

This is where I should wax poetic about how my pride is bruised but honestly? My ankle hurts worse.

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Filed Under: BA is effing crazy, BA's a nerd, FAIL, Life in General, Random

Chicka-chicka-boom-boom, how will you meet your doom-doom?

20 Nov posted by heirtoblair

IMG 0230 1024x682 Chicka chicka boom boom, how will you meet your doom doom?

I’m usually against burning books, but if someone could sneak into Harry’s room & torch this one, I’d be much obliged.

I’d probably even make you cookies.

See, I can’t hide it or give it away without an insane amount of guilt. So I’m going to need someone else to blame Chicka’s doom upon.

30 Comments
Filed Under: BA is effing crazy, Harry in General, My kid hates me, Never Have I Ever, Outsourcing Parenting Skills, Toddlers eat your brains, Unpopular opinions

The catch-all for all of me.

16 Nov posted by heirtoblair

I enjoy sharing the stories of our life & pictures of Tuck licking peanut butter off Harrison’s hands & how I cannot locate the touch-up paint can. (Probably because I didn’t write down where I left it last.)

I challenge myself on days when I sit in front of photo editing software & try to find my own style.

I adore the days where I pull out the camera & make silly faces & crack jokes & imagine my mother’s face when she reads a post laced with profanity.

I love that some days, I put pen to paper & let my heart sink deep & the words flow without editing.

My entire life, I have wrestled a wild, exuberant side with a quiet artistic shyness that I never seem to balance well. Like the days when I have the world under my thumb but walk into the break room & cower because I cannot say “hello” to the girls laughing over their lunch. At almost thirty, I am beginning to accept this about myself. Accept that my moods & writing change & that it’s best when I just go with it. That’s when it comes from the heart – the days of laughter & hilarity, the days of closing my eyes & letting words feel like poetry.

& I let this blog catch it all.

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Filed Under: Adult Club, All about BA, BA is effing crazy, BA's a nerd, Fears, Finding Balance, Things that aren't perfect despite my best efforts, Unpopular opinions

Let’s talk about toilets.

8 Nov posted by heirtoblair

At my old job, we had two stalls to a bathroom that had at least an inch between each section so there was no guessing who was using the facilities at any given moment. Not to mention the emergency pull cords for the elderly clients & for six years, I sat in fear that somehow I would spaz out & slip & pull the cord, meaning security would catch me with my tights around my ankles.

I know. I think too much.

& there was this one bathroom sort of “designated” for the more advanced graduation of potty training, if you know what I mean.

If you don’t, I’m talking about poop.

If a client was in the stall next to me, it was all gravy because once you hit eighty, I think your main goal in life is to a) have another meal & b) eventually poop it out. I’m not being cheeky, it’s just that the older generation takes their fiber very seriously & if you think I’m being rude, just ask them. But if a coworker was there? I would silently try to lift my feet so my tell-tale red flats weren’t visible from the sink & pray the person wouldn’t stop to primp. Which they would. & I’m all silently jeering them for tucking in their shirt & putting on a new layer of chapstick when DON’T YOU KNOW THAT CHILDREN ARE STARVING ACROSS THE OCEAN & I AM USING THE RESTROOM?

So I am happy to report that at my new office, the bathrooms are spacious & lovely & each stall is really like it’s own little “room,” where shoes are not visible.

& more importantly than poop, it means that nobody can laugh while watching my cracked-out chicken wiggle dance back into my shapewear.

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Filed Under: All about BA, BA is effing crazy, BA's a nerd, FAIL, nablopomo, Potential for Doocing, Things that aren't perfect despite my best efforts