Tag Archives: frustrations

Tax Drama, Dad Drama.

5 Feb

Taxes = Frustration.

For one, I had to read several different articles and publications to correctly determine my residency status, and then to figure out exactly which form to file. Once that was figured out, I realized I was exempt from social security and medicare taxes. And, my ex-employer refused to issue the refund, so I had to fill out several more forms to get the refund from the IRS. So hence, I still have not been able to mail out my passport for the exit-entry form, and then also managed to get into a so-if-i-do-get-into-school argument with my dad. Most of it was generated from his disapproval of me finding legit ways to stay here, and actually discouraging me when he had always encouraged me to pursue anything I wanted to.

I get the whole thing is still an IFbut there is no harm in actually planning that road while I am planning out how to travel on the option he has laid out for me. I remember the one interview I had with an employer in Dubai, and he asked if I am pursuing Dubai because of my parents’ wishes? And, if not, why am I not looking into countries outside of the Middle East? That question was such a slap in the face. I mean, I have friends I would love to see on a regular basis if I do get employed and move there, but I know I was dissolving myself to wanting what they wanted for me.

Where I have been provided with several opportunities to break the code and travel alone for educational purposes, I have still been restricted in what I can and cannot want. I still sense my dad’s disapproval, which he isn’t even hesitating to conceal. For the first time, he actually said, “you said it yourself admission is tough, so why count on it?”

It’s like they are choosing Dubai for me because my brother will be right there, and I will have someone to watch over me. Why? Because my childhood best friend served her one year of work outside of school and is now getting married? And now they want me on the same path so other than my father and brother, there is a male figure in the form of a husband there to watch over me?

I don’t know how many breaths of relief my parents will breathe when my admission application does get denied – probably several and do a little dance while my dream comes crashing down and only the options they presented to me will be valid. It’s not like what they are presenting are easier – it’s just something I am not completely sure of. It is just something I will fall into.

It’s true I guess, that I shouldn’t be arguing right now about this anyway with him because it will all just be a waste of effort. But, a lot of things I was supposed to do will change. Like, I will not have to close my bank account, I will not have to take everything back or donate away some of my stuff, I will not have to worry I will never see my friends again, I won’t have to undergo the “You don’t know the market yet. You are too young for the job. Are you doing this to please your parents or it’s something you are passionate about?” comments of Middle Eastern employers.

I will tell you what I am passionate about. If I do not get in this year, I will try again next year. In the mean time, my dad probably will have to support me – because I can play the cultural norm back, too. Where, I cannot be forced to work or be means of any financial support because I am not required to. My only obligation in my religion when it comes to career and education is to pursue education, to pursue it as furthest as I could. I will give the world just that.

My boyfriend asked me last night, if I do get into school, will I come back to him? I think – well, okay, I KNOW – just how blunt I can be. I told him things will have to be different if we are to take our relationship any further. Not just things, just changes he has to be determined to make. And I came off wrong. I had tried encouraging in the past and got a flat no, so I laid clear that a next step would require a lot of commitment, which well, time and fate will decide. For now, I am partially emotionally shut and coming off cold and calculating when I should be just the opposite.



Something Or The Other

16 Oct

We are all a bunch of some sort of psychological disorders, aren’t we? Blame it all on external sources, why don’t we?

Paranoia. Hysteria. Anger issues. Schizophrenia. Bipolarity. Sleepwalking. Psychosis. MPD.

We all have something. Probably a term I didn’t bother mentioning here.

Practicing Patience

21 Jul

Work has taken up all my life. I barely have time for anything else. The most time I give to myself is sleep, and trying to look fresh and good for work. All things good and bad and fun and remorseful happen at work. But I seriously appreciate it that way. After all the hours of the day I spend in the company of people – some who make sense and some you wonder why they exist in your life – it’s a blessing coming home to an empty apartment that is just the way I left it. It’s my time away from the hustle and bustle to either just fall into bed and pass out, or to sit back and reflect.

This weekend has been eventful. I went to midnight premiere of The Dark Knight Rises and I think that was one of the best decisions I made lately. I was completely blown away. But getting home at 4 in the morning and having to be awake within the next 4 hours was not so awesome.

Starved and tired, I couldn’t fast that day. But I practiced it, testing how long I can go without food and water and my patience with the people I encountered. Most of whom caught me by surprise.

Like, this little girl when I went with my coworkers to get lunch at Domino’s. She was going all psycho outside the store with her mother trying to calm her down, and she just runs and makes her way into the restaurant, comes and falls on my knees, then well, HITS ME!!!

My reaction? Frozen in ultimate shock, until my coworkers prompted we better wait outside the store. After being quiet for the longest time, the only thing I found myself utter was “that girl is soooo possessed!!!” Well, she was being a little brat. When her mother finally brought her out and tried to make her apologize to me, all she does is make an “aaachoooo” sound, without the sneeze. The devil.

Yeah, I change my mind from hating kids to starting to find them okay to back to finding them a nuisance. I know I would have smacked my kid if it behaved in such an embarrassing way. Manners sometimes must be taught the harsh way so they learn to carry themselves properly out in the world.

As if that experience wasn’t enough with kids, we return to our store to find a little boy puking all over the floor, and the mother kind of just standing there, letting him throw up and just apologizing with a nervous smile. Yes, it took a lot of practicing patience and leaving the chaotic situation to stay calm during that.

It was probably the only time I said no to my manager to cleaning the store: “not my baby, not my mess to clean.”

Then more incidents with a new coworker with her trying to steal my sales [because I am too nice to ever just tell somebody to back off] and then even insulting me trying to be funny. I just laughed it off, but none of the guys we work with found it funny and actually all stood up in my defense, like “we got your back don’t worry.” I guess that will teach her to watch what she says to me, about me next time. It was just super sweet of them to do that for me.

And then came practicing patience with customers. Especially today, while I was fasting. Customer service can be a tough thing sometimes, where you have to be nice and all smiley when you clearly just want to break some jaws. Like the old men who come in and somehow manage to convey every dirty thought they are having about you, and you just laugh it away like “awww what a cute old man” when clearly they are not trying to be cute. And those that try to flirt instead of letting me complete my transaction with them. And those who force you to give them your number or they will not leave the store, so you end up giving them the store phone number, all the while their deluded mind doesn’t realize.

Literally. A lot of patience.

And then getting a phone call from the aunt I was living with and then one day got up and ran away from. Although it was a voicemail. I still haven’t called. I don’t know how to call back, talk past the awkwardness of the way we left things. I definitely do not want to talk about things – like I have mentioned before, confrontations and recovering after falling apart by going over the past is not my forte.

But I guess I will give a callback tomorrow, see how and where things flow. I definitely hope there is no drama – another thing that makes me super uncomfortable. I am an unreacting, emotionless person towards majority of the people in my life – except the chosen few special people. And I can’t fake anything, especially sympathy. But I guess that is the thing with blood relations… you can never end those. They are always going to come crawling back in your life even when you don’t want anything to do with them.

Or maybe I will learn to blend into what we are now? Forgive and forget? Start new? Time heals everything, right? Is it going to be worth it? Will it benefit anyone? Am I thinking, planning too much?

I don’t know. Guess I just have to be patient again and let time unfold what will become of us. Considering it’s Ramadan, holding grudges and being angry is another thing not acceptable. So I just have to look at reopening the lines of communication with her as a step towards the better person I had made up my mind to be. Let’s see where that shall take me…

One Step Closer To Unforgivable

9 May

Lately, the only thing significant about my life has been drama. Oh, how I despise it.

I mean, it’s made me have thoughts of running away, leave everything, try a fresh new start, where I don’t know anyone or anything, and can feel like a newborn. It would be nice, eh?

Sigh. Not so easy.

There’s just so much I am not even ready to leave behind. But I know the changes I want to make require just that. Eventually, someday, when pieces will start to put themselves together, and then I wouldn’t have so much please-shoot-me drama.

They have gotten me to the point I have to ask certain questions to myself:

1. Am I being ridiculously stubborn? Should I even apologize for something I didn’t do? Or for something I did that is of no direct or indirect concern to them?

2. Why are people, who unfortunately are my blood but don’t know a thing about me considering some of them haven’t seen me since I was 11, talking about me and calling me useless, unlovable, and stating no one will keep me, appreciate me, love me, marry me?!

For crying the fudge out loud!!!!!

I had been nothing but respectful towards them, I didn’t shun their opinions or advice, but calmly explained without revealing too much of the reasons why I see things differently than they do. And even to that, they called me hopeless, because I did not think like them.

I am sorry, I don’t intend to be accepted for who I am not, so yeah, you’re more than welcome to hate me for whatever illusion you have of what kind of person I am.

Not saying I am a saint. Oh, nowhere close to it. But there are aspects of my life I choose not to share because I am not seeking pity either. Great job so-called-family for telling my parents I am an out-of-control snob who only cares about myself and my happiness, who has no idea how to live in this world.

What do you know, anyways?

People gonna hate, I am gonna continue living – of course, with frustrations, outbursts of anger, but then shaking it all off the next hour.

I am seriously so frustrated with every conversation about me my aunts start ending in conversations about me being the furthest thing from wifey-material.

  • One, marriage is the last thing on my mind.
  • Two, it’s my life, I will talk about my unmarryableness, joke about it. It’s not of you to discuss so seriously.
  • Three, just because I stand my own and have certain standards I am not going to give up, I am the one who is unmarryable? Do they need to be reminded what rushing to settle with no self-respect and standards lead them into??
  • Four, I don’t even want to get married if I have to unwillingly change something about me to please someone. I don’t believe in fairytales, but I do believe in love being accepting of how the other is and loving them not just despite it, but because of it.
  • Five, if I am not getting all that, I am better off alone, chasing dreams that someday I will make happen. I am content either ways.

I am sick of these comments. And when the message is conveyed to them that I will get out of their lives, leave them in peace, they get furious. If I am that much of a fail, a disgrace, then let me go!!

I mean, what DOOOO they want!? Just to keep me in their lives, control me, tell me continuously poor-life-decision-making is all I ever do, torment me, make me miserable, then go backbite and gossip about me and increase their sin count!?

Yeah, sorry. That is not happening. Well, it can till I am out of their hair, but it won’t bother me anymore. Now I can roll my eyes, and laugh about it.


5 May

I’d like one day, just one day where I can be at work without being hit on by a customer, or having to listen to a comment about the way I look. Appreciate the effort, but this way I am never going to be taken seriously, and I would appreciate that for a change.

Maybe another thing frustrating me is my parents back in another part of the world can’t stop worrying about my hours. I appreciate being cared for by someone on this planet, They are forgetting this is how I always imagined my immediate post-college life to be. They don’t understand I love that feeling when I can claim myself independent, when I can live life like a grown-up. Of course, I understand my father will always see me as his little girl, my mother will always picture the worst of any scenario because that is what a mother does, and are forever going to be worried. But let me fend for myself for as far as I can. Like, just believe.

And then start their nightmares of how I could be followed by someone every night who could just be waiting for the right time to attack. Sigh. And if that wasn’t enough, comes the if anything does happen to me, I am disowned. Wow.  Just wow…

My Inner Mr. Hyde

30 Apr

For a past few days, the easiest feeling to feel has been anger for me. Honestly, it’s like one of the rarest of emotions in me, but when I’m there, all hell is about to break loose.

I am all fake smiley smiley this morning getting ready for work and walking in the rain without an umbrella with tyDi’s music blasting in my ears. I get on the train, watch the rain, try to be sad and relate to the lyrics of the songs playing – which by the way, isn’t hard to do. Nadia Ali’s lyrics at the moment are practically composed of pieces right out of my life.

So when it’s about time to get off the train, there is this huge dude standing in front of me, eyeballing the heck out of me and not ashamed I caught him doing that, and goes on to whisper something to the dude next to him making him turn my way too. Some of the most uncomfortable seconds of my life. I couldn’t wait to run off the train when it finally came to a stop.

I’m highly annoyed. Since last week, these public transit uncomfiness has increased numerous degrees. Strangers approaching with topics of conversation like the night sky being so pink or the moon being so little, being stopped to be told I just missed my train and I have to wait a few more minutes (really now!? I didn’t know that!?), graffiti sketches of guns being shown to me to get my opinion, being holla’d at, told I’m stopping all the traffic, and the friendly convenience store man out of nowhere suddenly using that creepy tone of interest rubbing his palms together… GOODNESS!!!

All time high frustrations. I mean I knew mental disorders were no myth, but I didn’t realize they were this abundant among the Chicago population either. I’ve had some “lost” customers come in at work, demanding to make use of a special offer that expired months and maybe even a year ago, and refusing to believe the promotions really are over. It’s pretty frustrating, and sometimes even scary, dealing with these people. But it’s a job and has to be done.

But for the strangers on the streets or the nice old man at the store I was nice to, who don’t hesitate in pissing me off or scaring the crap out of me, it’s annoying. I don’t know how far I am from making some creep swallow his own teeth.

I have, for a few years now, given myself another name – a part of me that is. The part that is much stronger and wiser and unafraid. And for a few months now, she was suppressed because I didn’t feel like she was needed anymore. But with how situations in my life are working out these days, it’s like my Mr. Hyde is going to come out anytime now. And won’t go away until I have given the world a piece of my mind and am able to go back to being me.