fair / unfair / c'est la vie

c'est la vie.  isn't that what they say when life hands you troubles?  

such is life.  life isn't fair.

we learned that in kindergarten.  someone takes your sandwich.  someone tears up your drawing.  someone makes fun of you when you fall down and skin your knee.

and no one does anything about it.

such is life.  life isn't fair.

i've had a run of bad luck, or just a run of "life."  some good things have happened.  some bad things have happened.  a lot of bad things.

is it fair that i have a part time manager who lies on her time sheet; who gets paid for upwards of 15 - 20 minutes of work when she wasn't there yet?  how does she do it?  when she opens, she is there at the last minute.  2 minutes before the store opens.  when the next manager doing the close shift comes in, she claims she didn't get clocked in and would we do it.  i've called more than once, 20 minutes before, 15, 10, and finally 3 minutes before and she doesn't answer.  or she has called me a few minutes after open asking for computer help opening the store.  by the time the doors are open, those registers should be open.  the other part time manager asked me if i was suspicious.  we both just nodded our heads in agreement.  she's cheating.  nothing we can do about it without causing a HUGE deal over it.  very political stuff involved with her and who this girl is dating.

is this fair?  no.

i was deathly afraid of my mother and father all my growing up years.  

is this fair?  no, but my childhood could have been worse.  much worse.  

i was afraid of my first husband.  is this fair?  no.  but they don't have "and they lived happily ever after" in the marriage vows.  and vows, for some people, mean nothing.

i retreat sometimes to my mind.  i go to a place in my mind where i create an environment that makes me calm and at peace.

like the photo below.  i could lay there and listen to the water, the gulls, feel the breeze, and relax.

 is it fair that i had bought my clutch for my old car and called around only to get horrible men tell me horrible things like, "let me talk to your man."  or "lady, this is the best price around so if you want it, book it, otherwise stop wasting my time."  to "drop off the car, i'll take a look at it and let you know. Enterprise can pick you up.  they have great weekly deals.  we'll get to your car when we get to it."  

rudeness.  lots of rudeness.  lots of terrible customer service from ads of places that say, "100% customer satisfaction."  is this fair?  no.  is it done every day?  yes.

the badness i wrote about was about my dogs.  my beautiful little dogs.  my friends.

the lady downstairs complained.  she's almost 90 and she likes to sleep before she goes to bed.  when i work at night, sometimes, my dogs will bark.  they are afraid of the dark and they look outside waiting for me and will see a cat, or a person walking their dog, or hear a noise and it will scare them.  and, mostly Carmen Sophia, will bark for a bit.  it scared me so bad.  i cannot lose them.  i cannot afford to move.  even if i moved, it could be from the frying pan into the fire.  

spiral down.  i spiraled down into an abyss that was hard to get up from.

 only darkness in front of me.  my little dogs.  

i panicked.  i went into a full-fledged hyperventilating panic attack.  how could i fix this?  what could i do to save my dogs?  i put their thunder shirts on them before i left.  i kept the tv on and all the lights on.  i blocked the sliding glass window and the small window in the bedroom.  and i gave them benadryl to make them calm.  so far it has worked.

but to make sure i also ordered a dog silencer machine that puts out a sound that humans can't hear but dogs can when they bark.  it is an annoyance to them and trains them not to nuisance bark.  i feel a little bit better about it.  but i still carry the scars of the panic and i still carry the worry that it will all change back and someone will try to take my dogs away again.

i'm scarred.   was it fair?  no, but then it isn't fair that the little old lady downstairs had her sleep interrupted by two scared little scotties. 

i sometimes wonder how i can continue to live like this; live so very scared all the time.  i never really rest unless i force myself to go to that place in my mind where i know i would be happy.

it would be a stone house beside the ocean.  my two little dogs and i would be safe.  no one would/could threaten us.  i go there and design my home in my mind.  i plan the gardens.  i put up photos and lay quilts on the sofas and beds.  there are alcoves for reading and resting.  there is a warm, cozy kitchen to make small meals in.  my dogs and i would be safe.

safe is all i want.  safe with no one trying to change my life, make me give up things, take from me.

funny thing, in my dreams, i don't have any friends.  i am alone with my dogs.

but i am back with him.  or he is back with me.

and there is no fair or not fair.  there is just home.

but it's all a dream and i know it.

i need my dreams.  i need that safe place to go to where things go right.  i need my "home" and my dogs right with me.  i need the ocean and the coming Fall and Winter where we stayed close to home and took care of each other.   fire in the wood stove.  stew cooking.  mulled cider in a cup.  books to read on the sofa where we piled together.  all of us.  man.  woman.  and two little dogs.

happened once.  never to happen again.  c'est la vie.

but life cannot take the memories from me nor can it take my dreams.

if i can still shut out the world and dream, make up my fantasies, then i still have the strength to get up and fight against the bad things that happen that make me say,

"son of a bitch!  what the f***!  what more do you effing want from me!?"

and yes,

"c'est la vie."