I'm broken

I don't know why I do this to myself. (sigh)

For reasons that would take a long time to explain, and not even adequately, I have issues with my phone. Serious issues.

Whenever I'm feeling the least bit stressed and am unable to juggle all the things that need to be juggled and have to drop something, the thing that gets dropped is the phone.

No, not literally.

But I stop answering the phone and, worse, I stop listening to my voicemails. It's bad enough when I do this with my personal phone, but when it's my work phone... man, that's bad.

Because the phone keeps ringing. And people keep leaving messages. And I keep ignoring them. And the sense of anxiety gets worse and worse every time the phone rings, because who is it? Is it important? How many times have you already called? Are you mad now? Am I gonna get yelled at? Are you the chair of that committee who wants to talk to me before I present a report about the committee to that other committee?

The more the phone rings, the more anxious I get and the longer it takes me get over my issues and just deal with the stinking phone.

Are there things you ignore when you are stressed?

Cobra Toes

Like most women, I have things about my body that I don't like. And I understand that on one hand, it's really tragic that we women are so hard on ourselves just because we don't live up to some impossible standard. But on the other hand, why can't it be okay for me not to like how many moles I have on my body, or how the hair that grows on the FRONT of my thighs is blonde but the hair on the BACK of my thighs is black and that's gross, or how that 20 lbs I gained recently all went to my belly, which led coworkers to believe that I must be pregnant and they then consulted the Chinese conception chart to figure out the sex of my baby?

Then there's just the weird stuff. Like how now that my hair is short, I have this one section of hair on the right side that sticks straight out of the side of my head, and it takes a LOT of convincing to settle down and be normal.

Oh, and also? My toes.

Not all of my toes are weird. Only two of them - the two ring toes. (You know, the ones next to the pinky toes.)

Growing up, I thought my toes were normal. I really had no reference point as I hadn't spent much time looking at any toes other than my own. When I took karate as a kid, I remember standing next to a girl named Jamie and thinking, "Oh, my gosh, her toes look so weird. They're all straight! She must be embarrassed!"


Kids sure are funny, huh?

It wasn't until years later that I discovered that, no, indeed, my toes were the weird ones. I should be embarrassed about how my toes weren't all straight. I was going to have a mom, and later boyfriends, and later a husband who would tease me about my toes and nickname them "broccoli toes" and "cobra toes."


I don't know what happened to them. I don't know if I wore shoes that were too small when I was a kid. I don't know if I was born this way. All my other toes look completely normal, but those two little guys just decided to be bulbous.


Maybe someday I'll have toe augmentation surgery.

Although, to be honest, I still think perfect little feet with five perfectly straight toes look a little freaky.