I need to start listening to my own advice

Sunday, February 13, 2011

I awake to my alarm at 6 a.m. I was supposed to volunteer for the Health Fair that Children At Risk was putting on for the community at PlazAmerica Mall, formerly known as Sharpstown Mall. I feel my head ringing, piercing pain shooting through my temples. Of course I have a migraine. That is so typical. I hadn’t been able to sleep most of the night, finally falling asleep at 4 a.m. My back muscles screamed in pain as I stood up and stretched. Sleeping on an air mattress is really taking a toll on my body. With each footstep shuffled, I felt King Kong stomping, crushing my skull. Oh hell no! I tell myself. I am not going to volunteer at any Health Fair if I’m not healthy myself. And then talk to people all day and charm my future employer and co-workers during what would be an informal interview? Absolutely not. PlazAmerica Mall was 46 minutes away according to my iPhone map app. I gave my word and after volunteering, I would be a shoe-in for the position. I felt guilty. I rarely bail on promises that I make. It’s just not in my character. If I say I am going to do something, I do it.

Fuck it, I tell myself. My resume speaks for itself. Bob was a creep and if he thought I oozed sexual energy during my interview, what would he be saying for the course of my employment with them? He was a sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen. I was more than qualified for the position. Fuck it, I convince myself. Bob can kiss my sexy ass.

I hear Mom in the kitchen. I tell her of my migraine and she tells me to go back to sleep with her. I slept below four blankets, blocking any possible sunshine from seeping into my blanket fortress. I awake every two hours until Gabby calls me to ask if I will be joining her, my mom and Grandma at her house to hang out. We were supposed to celebrate Gabby’s birthday but with her mom, Titi Sandy, in Peru for the weekend, we decided to just hang out together instead.

I get dressed and head to Grandma’s house. We eat arroz con gandules and pollo guisado. I tell Grandma about what Bob had said about me. I was still irked.

She said, firstly, it’s true. Sexiness seeps through your pores, nena. You couldn’t change it if you tried. If you looked up the definition of sexy in the dictionary, your name and picture would be beside it. You could wear a paper sack that reached up to your neck and you would still be sexy. Not only that, women would ask you where you bought it and want it for themselves. Secondly, eso es un piropo. It’s a compliment, she said. Embrace it.

I tell her I’m bothered because I want to be recognized for my hard work and experience not my looks but she continues to tell me that it was a compliment. Forget it, I think.

Gabby and I are bored because Mom and Grandma are in their own conversation about what is going on with my mom’s co-workers at HP. We decided to go to the dollar theater and watch Due Date.

I haven’t heard from her all day. I’m happy. I’m glad she understood that I didn’t want to talk to her right now. The last thing I wanted was to be reminded of any semblance of love I ever had for her. I miss her. Not as much as I thought I would, but I did miss her a little. I still loved her but nowhere near the way I had loved her before. I knew that I would never love the same again.

This was the second time she had broken my heart. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. I should have expected this. I should have seen this coming. But as they say, love is blind. I was too blind to see what was directly in front of me, laying in bed with me night after night. I always tell people, what starts in chaos ends in chaos. I need to start listening to my own advice.