Losing Track

Why didn't I get that job? How did I fail that exam? Why am I always so broke? We are probably asking ourselves questions like this quite often. Life can be a real bitch at times and occasionally it's difficult not to let it and all the generic bullshit get you down, I mean we're only human after all.

On a stormy day it’s easy to forget that the sun is still shining behind all of those thick clouds. The same is true for problems we face in our lives. That's why I feel it's so important to have a core base in your life and to work from that. It's vital to never forget where you came from, you can have your own identity but honour your roots as it has helped make you who you are today.

While I feel we always have to keep a sharp eye on our ultimate goal we should never lose sight of our heritage and what started us off. This philosophy encourages us that we should always aim high and then aim even higher. We should have big dreams, and then set bigger dreams. We should assign no limits on what we can dare to achieve in our time on this earth, the world is your oyster.

Notice how the bird is bigger than the actual house.

So, in light of all this soul searching last Saturday evening I planned to sit down for a few minutes with my mother before she went to spend the night at her sister's, they were attending some party together. I thought it would be a real learning opportunity, I thought she would help me look back at my humble beginnings and recognize the events in my life and her teachings, that gave me the character and confidence to be the person that I have become. I thought it was going to be a conversation to shape my life forever, one I'd recite on my death bed.

I perhaps thought too much.

I walk into the kitchen to the horrific sight of a slightly demented woman, barefoot and wide-eyed.

Mother: "Where's the scoop? Have you guys seen the scoop?" Her tongue was dangling out of her mouth and she was moving it in an anti-clockwise motion.

Me: "The scoop?" What was she on about? I literally hadn't a clue.

Mother: "Yes, did you spot it yet?" She was pointing at me quite dauntingly.

Me: "Am, no I didn't." A scoop of cocaine?

Mother: "Hah ha! I'm not wearing a dirty bra tonight, I'm bad enough." She had just taken a cup out of the cupboard and I was becoming uncomfortable with the manner in which she was smiling.

Me: "Okay, Mam you're really not making any sense." I was terrified in that instance she was going to lob the cup at me.

Mother: "I need it for d'Daaaas." What? She needs a clean bra and a cup for my dad? They better not be planning on making a viral video.

Me: "I'm out of here, this is too weird."

Mother: "Wait, if you are heading upstairs you can take this with you." What was she going to hand me? The cup?

She walks out of the kitchen and into the utility, what was her deal? I love her unconditionally but if she is going to hand me a gun and ask me to hide it from the authorities before they call round looking for her, I'm going to refuse.

Mother: "Your sister's laundry, she's old enough now to have her mother doing it for her." The first sentence of her's to make some sense, relived if she was planning to shoot anyone my sister was first in line and it would allow me some time to plot a getaway.

Me: "Ah okay, will do."

Mother: "I hate using the cups to scrap out the Daz but that scoop thing that comes with it doesn't look like it's coming back." Thankfully, she was talking about fuckin' washing powder the whole time, she's not crazy, just plain old mellow-dramatic like myself.
Mother: "Now the washing machine is empty I can finally wash my good bra."

Me: "Why did you leave it until now to wash your clothes for tonight?" Seemed a pretty reasonable query, she was due to leave in less than two hours and she's known to take her time.

Mother: "I've only one going-out bra and I couldn't find it until today." Yes, I was having a conversation about undergarments with my mother.

Me: "Lucky you." At this point, I pleased to be leaving.

Mother: "Yeah, if I didn't find it I'd have gone out topless like that Anna Montana one. Hah ha!"

She then joyfully frolics into the dining room, singing to herself. She has a shower cap on because the fumes from the bargain-bin hair dye she uses need to be restrained. She then picks up a bright orange nail polish and starts painting her nails without her glasses, the outcome was like a toddler finger painting workshop. I was speechless, I was in shock. What a free-spirited woman.

You are told in your journey the right people enter your life at different stages to help you soar to greater heights of personal fulfilment and accomplishment, maybe I'm too soft-hearted but I think my inspiration has been part of my journey since the very start.