Princess Marisa

So, have you ever heard something you wholeheartedly disagreed with? That upset you! That was wrong! That others misunderstood? That sat with you and ate at you and bothered you until you had the realization that there was probably some truth to it?! Which pissed you off even more because that’s not how you see yourself or think of yourself or who you want to be? Yep....

I consider myself a regular person. A hard worker. Honest. Not entitled. Grateful for the things and the life and luxuries I have. And then I hear what others outside impression of me is, and ouch.

I recently learned that the camp host of an RV Park we frequently stay at recess to me as “princess marisa”... what?! Where does that come from?! I was informed to look at it from her perspective. I have someone call in my reservation. I have people pay for my stay. I have someone drive in my RV & take it out. I mean I kinda get that, but for some reason that statement hurts me. Like I’m some froo froo lady who has everything done for me, that I’m too good for my own good. Is that true? 

I like to think no. I mean we already have someone making group reservations for our other employees, is it my fault I let them make mine too? And yes, someone drives my RV. Trust me, I want nothing more than the strength & independence to drive it, buts it’s not really a beginners coach. I don’t even let my drivers put the slides out, I personally take care of every aspect of setup and teardown. I dump my own tanks. I try super hard to be independent and not a burden to anyone. I’m very well aware that this is not our vehicle, I take meticulous care of it so it remains as “new” as possible for the people who will actually pay money to own it. Is that a princess??

Well, it is a $600,000 Motorhome & I expect it to work. I have access to a Service department to setup, PDI & fix the vehicle. We are exceptionally busy people & it is nice to have people take care of stuff for you like reservations & payments. I do run our transportation department so I have access to drivers. My husband does own the company, so he has the authority to let me make those things happen. 

Maybe it is a little princess ............

***shit***

I’ll just say this: Come on the road with us next time. After you work 30+ days straight, from 9am to 7, 8, 9, 10+ pm every day, sitting in a parking lot, using a porta potty, dealing with the elements (we’re worse than the post office. In spite of rain, sleet, hail, 100* temps) and you have to deal with your banking, your car maintenance, your appointments, your mail, your friends, all from the road & afar... THEN call me a princess to my face... gggrrrrrr

High Function Incapacity

I’m a contradiction.

I’m a mess.

It’s too much to carry all this stress.

Had a moment at work today. Literally thought I was going to hyperventilate and had to get a grip of myself.  If you know me, I want to be perfect, I want to do it all, and as you can imagine that leads to epic failure. 

I’ve got this ailing elderly dog who needs more care and attention than an infant.

I have a job that could suck the life’s blood out of you and still want more. I’m juggling too much.

I want to have a life and have friends and do stuff. 

I want to be holly homemaker and a good friend and send thoughtful gifts and cards and make time to visit.

I want to be skinny and in great shape and be the wife every man dreams of.

After this summer, I don’t even know anymore. People see these epic photos of a life larger than their dreams... we’ve got a rockstar status RV, we have nice clothes, nice cars, take bucket list vacations and I should just shut up, right?!

Well, probably so, but this is my blog and I’m here to tell you... life is still hard. 

Yes we just went to Disneyland. Yes we just spent a week at the beach for a family milestone birthday. Yes we just spent a week in Las Vegas. Yes I just had a friends reunion party at our house for 25 people. Amazing right?! Fun right?! Who do you think plans this stuff? Flights, reservations, hotels, snacks, games, remembers the bandaids and sunscreen and tickets?? All while fielding work calls and prepping for the next big show? Sometimes you have to be weeks and days ahead of yourself so your equipment and clothes get into the right RV to make it to the next place in time.

When you are a founding member of the Cult of Perfection- it becomes near impossible to sort out what’s important and what’s not. I drill down on every minute detail of EVERYTHING to the point of sheer mental exhaustion. They say successful people can suffer from something called “Decision Fatigue”... I’m tapped out by the time I even get in my car to head for work... but accepting any less than lining up every aspect of life seems like failure. Why should I lower my standards? Why should I expect any less than perfection? Maybe because it’s killing me?! Lol!! But NO! 

I don’t know, it’s just a lot.

Losing yourself...

Some days do you ever feel like you’re playing a game of hide and seek with yourself?

When you are, internally by nature, a people pleaser, the easiest option is to “when in Rome” it... but do that too many times and it’s pretty easy to forget if you’re doing some things because you like them or if that’s just what so n so likes. Or do you like it because it quells the anxiety of taking a stand and doing something different? 

Maybe I started typing this before my thoughts have formulated enough? 

What do I like?! Like really like like?!?!

I used to draw. I love colored sharpie markers and elaborate designs.

I used to run. I loved my physique and constant feelings of accomplishment.

I used to do yoga. I loved the connection to something karmic & universal. And the exercise, flexibility & inner peace didn’t hurt either!

I used to blog. Writing has always been cathartic for me. And I’m funny. And I LOVE documenting life. I feel like a gripping, humorous, raw, honest, informative blog is something they should share at your funeral so everyone can catch a glimpse of a decent person living an exceptional life!

I used to read. Voraciously. There’s nothing in life like a good book.

So why don’t I do those things? Not because we’re too busy (although sometimes) but moreso because those things are selfish. They take time alone. Or better yet, they take time away- away from Curt who assigns ZERO value to blogging or reading or running a marathon. And that’s when I say “what do you want to do?” And poof, I’m lost again.

Not sure I have an answer yet. Right when I say it’s all going to change, we leave for another show! Talk a an all encompassing, life changing event...! DERAILED....

But I am working secretly to get there. I’ve been tracking my sleep, cutting back on my caffeine, doing some light exercise, & hopefully, slowly I’ll get to where I can sleep better, wake up more rested, have more energy and a clearer mind to hone in on some time for ME. 

Becoming "Mrs" Curt Curtis

So a funny thing happens when you get married. Besides joining lives and families and households, there's that Name Change thing. Which I'm ok with. Which I wanted. Which I think it's cute when people call us the Curtis'... But somewhere in there, more than just my name got changed. My life, my personality, my job, my work ethic, my identity got shadowed by my husbands.

WHAT?

My point is summed up in this one experience. I was walking up the stairs behind our greeters desk as our receptionist was training a new girl and I heard her say "That's Marisa, she's our owners wife."

...............................

NOT, That's Marisa, she's worked here 21 years.
NOT, That's Marisa, she manages our entire fleet of transportation for 9 stores in 5 states plus the shows.
NOT, That's Marisa, she works our shows, handles our website, our dropbox, our pictures, our inventory, our.............

NOPE, Just Marisa, the owners wife.

I'm sorry, that burns my buns. Is that what happens when you marry someone honest and fun and gregarious and successful? Your own accomplishments, opinions, value, just get crumbled up and thrown under his wing?

Last time I checked, I had been a gainfully employed person since January 10th 1997. I've PRIDED myself in my ability to multi-task. To teach myself new things. To work, and work, and work some more. Of course, it is a weird thing to date (& eventually marry) your boss, but we have NEVER  considered our pleasure before our business... (as sad as that statement is) As in, when we're at work, we're at work. During the day, we don't sit next to each other, we don't hold hands, we don't call each other about personal things. Hell, we don't even carpool! We have our own daytime lives completely independent of each other.  Maybe there's a female cell in my brain that sometimes wishes that he was sitting up at his desk thinking how much he loved me and would call and tell me nice things, but our relationship has not been and is not that way. And NEVER EVER would I lean on my relationship with the boss to help me fudge on my job. In fact, it's a bad thing, but we occasionally have a hard time remembering we are life partners instead of business partners. We take it that seriously...

So then, October 14th, 2017 rolls around. The happiest, prettiest, most fairytale day I've ever had in my life. After the honeymoon, I began the name change process (Which, by the way, is intensely more complicated when you're established in your credit and accounts and life! OMG)

And that's when it began... not just the one experience above, but over and over and over and I’m tired of it! 

I work. I want to be really good at my job for myself. I want to earn my money for myself. I want to support myself. I want credit for what I do for myself! 

What’s a girl gotta do to be more than just someone’s wife? 

You’ve gotta wait for it...

So my Dad and I have this thing... back in 8th grade I went to the Woodlake Rodeo and played a game and won a little dinosaur stuffed animal. He had a dumb look on his face (similar to a funny face my dad makes) and we named him Dino. Somehow we got into the habit of hiding Dino and waiting for the other person to find him. Over the last 25+ years, ive gotten really good at it! But what I realized is that you can’t find Dino and then immediately hide him back. That gets redundant and boring. 

So I keep Dino... 

and I wait...

Sometimes a month. Sometimes years. (He’s currently in my closet- has been for about over a year!!!) So you never know when he’s going to show up in your closet, in the microwave of your RV, under cover in the backyard on a specialty tool... this is sounding kind of serial killer-ish... but the point is- the waiting makes it worth it!!!! And from yours truly here at “It’s worth recording”, I hope I was worth the wait! Because I’m baaaaccckkkk!!!!!!!!!!