Hi, I'm Amanda and I'm a jealous individual.
I'd like to say that I'm cool with whatever anyone does and be happy for them in whatever they do, understanding that it doesn't impact my world, more specifically my accomplishments or talents. I'd like to say that I'm secure in what I can do and be proud of, but I can't.
I get steaming green envious of others. I gnash my teeth, make a sour face and stomp around being dissatisfied with my house and my mediocrity and my life.
There are specific things that make me angry and covetous. Blog authors who will announce there's somewhere they really want to go, something they really want to do, tell how horrible their current living situation is and then their loyal followers send them money.
When someone says 'Hey, my birthday is coming up! I sooooooo want this: *insert link to amazon wish list*' Then someone sends it to them.
This causes me to turn an unattractive shade of chartreuse. Then I get mad at myself for feeling this way. I should be able to be very new-age, flowing, understanding that this has nothing to do with my existence in the universe.
But I'm not. I'm a shallow, bitter, sour grapes kind of person, apparently. I sit in my puddle of verdigris, indulging in emotions that do nothing for me in any positive way.
I have gone so far as to ponder why no one does this for me. There are a few reasons, among them is the fact that I don't ask. We would have to be looking at homelessness before I'd ask the general public for financial assistance. It screams against my values, online pan-handling.
And, I'm not sure there is enough of a pity/admiration factor. I haven't overcome huge odds to achieve what I've done. I don't cry about how hard it is to never have breaks or see people I love.
Oh, I'm sure there are people who feel sorry for me and my intense need for outside validation and attention, but it's not the kind of feeling sorry for me that makes a person want to send me a fruit basket.
A person who is completing a graduate degree in photography or art or creative writing creates a whirlpool of insecurity, self-hatred and jealousy. Waving my arms as it sucks me down, I imagine I look something like Maude who was swept out to sea. And I let it. I let it sweep me out to sea. Then I have to swim back, which is tiring. I have to rest in that ocean of ill-will until I have the strength to struggle to the unsafe and unfamiliar shore of self-esteem and psychological well being.
What upper body workout is there to help with that particular weakness?
Amanda's beauty tip of the day: If you have moved to a different climate, you'll need to make some adjustments. Spend the first weeks after you've unpacked watching what your skin does before changing your routine.