I Might Be Wrong*

Yesterday, I found out that a long-awaited (it literally took eons) promotion finally went through (effective December 10) for me.

It's funny, because a year and a half ago, when I was told that my duties would be changing and that I was expected to learn a whole new desk with more responsibility, I was pissed. Mad because I wasn't asked or given a choice, and worried I wouldn't be able to learn the new stuff (which is very complicated! And absolutely outside of my realm of experience up until that point).

However, as I am finding out from this experience (and others, fairly recently): my gut reaction of anger tends to be the wrong one. I need to think about this a LOT. Somebody once told me: anger = fear in a very nice coat. Maybe that doesn't really make sense, but I liked it (maybe I'd like a new coat). Anyway, I've learned a lot, continue to learn, and will try to remember that opportunities don't always come with a hug.

The thing is, when I got the news yesterday, I was happy (fully happy, proud, excited) for just about 1 minute. After that it occurred to me: I won't be able to tell my mom.

I shared the news with a friend of mine (via text, I was out on a walk) at work. When I said, "I wish I could tell my mother," he said, "Write her a letter." A few texts later, I was offended and upset. Why? Because my head is not on right, obviously,

This is why texting sucks.

This is why I need to be more grateful, and less self-centered.

This is why I need to get more sleep.

It got straightened out later, but not before I felt like an asshole - I guess I had assumed he was being sarcastic, and he was actually being quite sincere and kind, and I had to wonder: why do I do that?

Patrick had made plans to drive to Northridge to pick up something he bought on Craigslist last night, so I drove down with Jules and had a little celebratory dinner with my dad and Angie at Truxton's. It was nice to see them both and my dad was happy for me. When I told him how sad I had been all day about missing sharing this (and the whole rest of my life! Any news, good or bad) with my mom, he said, "You can tell her."

Literally 65 other people (on Facebook) told me this as well. Some said, "She already knows!" I've been skeptical, but thankful. That's a nice thing to say. Later, when Patrick got home from work, and I told him about missing sharing news with my mom, he said this:

"Just today I was talking to my dad and I told him stuff. Even though I don't believe in it, I still tell him things. Because what if I'm wrong?"

"What if I'm wrong" is a good way to think about this. And lots and lots of other things.

*This post composed with "I Might Be Wrong" by Radiohead playing in my brain. Yours too, I suspect.