I have a re-occuring dream where I re-lose my job at Crowder, but this time the person doing the firing is an old venerated professor of mine who I adored.

I had a parent who told me everyday in every way - usually to my face - YOU ARE NOT GOOD ENOUGH.  YOU SUCK.  He never used the word suck, because he was eloquent and smart.  Very smart, I thought he was the smartest person the world and at all times I came up with bizarre ways to WIN him over.  It never worked.  I always sucked.  When I headlined at an art show - it was too much trouble for him to drive the 10 minutes to come to it.  I wouldn’t go to my own shows - what was the point? I would never win.  No one liked my work.  No one.

When I was a webmaster I had cards stuck to my wall, received flowers, chocolates, awards, and even a photo of me was pinned up in the main lobby explaining who I was and what an amazing kick ass job I did — and I bet people thought I was just the most arrogant person on the planet - pretty sure it was all the attention that made a few certain people pissed off enough they gave me the old heave ho instead of some time off to get well.  But you know, I didn’t feel it.  I felt kinda weird actually.  I wanted to share any sort of accolades - I felt so exposed and alone in that job.  I was never happy.

I thought maybe when I was published it would change for me.  It didn’t.  Maybe when I was beautiful or charming or finally learned to get along in this world — I WOULD WIN.

Now I dream every night about getting fired.  I dream of designers I used to know and I’m cleaning up after them and offering to park their new cars.  Even the people I knew who just were terrible designers win in my dreams - but not me. Why?

I don’t usually remember the accolades, the education - it doesn’t ever fill up the cup.  One lady told me, “when I grow up to be a designer - I want to be you.”  Damn - that’s pretty good hu?  Why can’t I remember that?

When I got to town I applied to a lot of jobs in Portland and never received one call.  For me that was concrete proof I don’t have what it takes in any area of expertise. Maybe it was that I lived two hours away from Portland - but I never think of things like that.

With my health a lot of people think I can shrug it off.  I’ve tried.  Really.

As a kid I was desperately allergic to cigarette smoke to the point sometimes my lungs and bronchial ways clogged with mucus so badly I couldn’t breathe.  My parents wouldn’t quit smoking.  They said I was “puny” and “it can’t be allergies, I don’t know why you’re stick sick it’s January! You’re always sick!!”  I always was, for years on end.  I thought it was normal to spit up green gunk every morning.

Is there any way to get to winning?

Is there a way I can get off this God Damn treadmill of acceptance - because it’s not working out for me.

What is the finish line?

Maybe it’s all arbitrary.  Maybe right now I say, I WIN.

I have everything I really wanted….

but I still dream the same dreams.

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