On The Subject of My Potential...

First I have to say that adrenaline doesn't do for me any favors...I am not a junkie.  It's been almost an hour since Roger and myself were charged by an unattended pit bull and I'm still a herky jerk.  I saw the dog well across the parking lot and there were two guys near him...one asked if he was my dog and the next thing he was in full attack charge.  He covered well over a 100ft in a matter of seconds.  In hind sight I know what I was doing although I was completely functioning on instinct.  I was trying to get Roger back over to a pickup truck (I guess to put him in it) and get between him and the dog. It was NOT f-ing cool.  The guys came running but didn't know what to do since no one really wants to grab a fricking pit bull that's not theirs.  I got Roger separated enough to get him in the door of the condo and immediately the other dog started listening to me.  There was a spare leash in my car and I put it on him.  I walked until I saw someone and asked if she had any idea who he belonged to...it was hers.  She wasn't even calling for him??  Apparently she heard yelling and looked out.  The yelling was me...ME.  I don't yell...EVER.  But guess I did this morning.  I never really understood how the dog was out on his own.  I know there's a whole subculture of people who swear by those dogs but they unpredictable and scare the shit out of me.  I really never want to hurt an animal but I'm pretty sure I was willing to stomp one pit bull ass over my little guy. 

Over the past week I've impressed myself with my 'not the average girl' attempts and accomplishments.  I passed the motorcycle course and got my license.  I was far less than perfect but did manage to get through figure 8's and tight cone weaving and a whole lot of other stuff I wouldn't have thought myself capable of.  I also replaced my disposal all by my little self.  I'm talking wiring and plumbing and everything.  The plumber wanted $250 to do it.  Some days I kick a lot of ass.  I was high on self accomplishment when my mother called the other day and I was passing along my stories.  Somewhere when telling about the written test she says something along the lines of "well you've always been smart...I've known for a long time that you've never lived up to your potential...you could have made something of yourself."  In her defense I'm sure that was supposed to be a compliment.  I just shook my head.  It didn't even really bother me when she said it.  It has gotten an awful lot of head time since then I have to admit.  I know that bartending is not a parents dream job for their kid...but I do what I do by choice.  Recently she and a cousin were putting together a genealogy book and my little half a paragraph included that I had been married and what I use to do for a living and that I currently live at the beach.  I haven't always been what I am...I started off playing by the unwritten grown up rules.  I had a real job and was rather successful...and miserable. I gave a long almost 18 years to an industry and profession that left me flat on my face when the economy soured.  I stood up, regrouped and found something that I enjoy. I'm not sure if in my potential I was supposed to make the world a better place and more sunny for the masses?  I'm confused most I guess by what people consider success and living up to your potential.  I have never ridden a coat tail and have always been completely responsible for myself.  I never asked my parents for help...of any kind.  It pains me to ask anyone for help and I am more than reluctant to taking any that comes unsolicited.  I know that sometimes I'm a bit erratic from the outside...like when I make my b's and d's backwards and walk off before making up both sides of the bed and like yesterday when I threw away eggs  from a carton marked sell by June 10.  But I took the eggs out and recycled the carton. Sometimes I'm all over the place and I can tend to wear people out but it's tightly rolled up with handy and resourceful and loving and  maybe a little bad ass. For the most part I keep my shit in one sock.  And I'm proud of that whether she ever will be or not. 

I write for my sanity and possibly to entertain and with any luck to maybe inspire and cause people look at life a little differently. I chase happiness.  And I love with all I have.  It's more than I can say for most of those free white and over 21.  If I'm falling short of potential...then falling short doesn't feel so bad.