Oh, I almost (…almost!) feel bad for the misguided clients who email me (…insert melodramatic violins here):“I’m sorry, I let you down, I can’t do this, I don’t mean to waste your time…I was wrong, goodbye cruel world!”, thinking, one presumes, ’Welp…that’s it, Carlota won’t expect me to do my homework now. Off the hook!’  Oh those emails make my inner wicked witch cackle bitterly: one pity party and you’re off the hook? You think it’s that easy? Oh, Pumpkin. Sorry, I love my clients and, even more, I love their talent and their potential so sucks to be you but once you hire me: YOU’RE IN IT TO WIN IT! I’d hate to have to show up at your job/office/girlfriend’s house and get you in a headlock and forcibly remind you of your talent and my superior lifting strength…but I would. Don’t test me. You’ll lose. 

What are you kvetching about anyway? Being human? Not being perfect? Oh thank sweet fancy Moses, since I  had a very um active weekend and I truly don’t have the energy to deal with perfection today…or any other day. Last time I checked life is a process, you win some, you lose some, and you keep. Going. Forward.  So sure, have your pity party; eat a lot of pasta and chocolate frosting straight from the can (…sigh.) and then it’s a new day, Sunshine and GET OVER YOURSELF! Get over your life of misery and suffering since frankly, it’s tedious. Trust me: I have many, MANY days in which I want to move to some small Greek island and marry an 18 year old (…and his brother), and adopt 50 cats and give up. But my fave Mexican food truck is here in Queens, teenagers tend to listen to horrible music… and each client teaches me something new which blows my mind.

Also, by the way: you’re not wasting my time, Sunshine. I don’t allow anyone—but the cats—to waste my time. You might be irritating the sh*t out of me and making me extra poopy but your melodrama is only wasting one person’s time: your own…n’est pas? 

So, sorry people who think one whiny email/text/tweet is enough to make me give up: you are incorrect, in fact, you’re not even close. I survived growing up Jewrican; working in international network news; living in Russia; raising cats in Russia; law school, and the wit and verve of Nancy Grace…just to name a few.  Guess you’ll just have to grow a pair and commit to your talent.

Besos!

C.

"Sentence structure is innate but whining is acquired."- Woody Allen

I promise I'm not whining. (If I was whining, trust me: you'd know. That sound would get in your brain and you'd want to kill me and probably yourself so as to liberate yourself from my dulcet tones...ha.) But recently, I kinda got, figuratively at least, punched in the solar plexus. It was especially disturbing because I never anticipated it. Never saw it coming.
But, I'm a big girl, and after surviving TV news, Russia, law school, Queens, The Kitten eating items in my purse, various ex-mens, etc...well, it really takes a great deal to knock me down. I mean, if you can survive multiple Russian winters, you're golden. (Hitler couldn't...and we all know how that ended.) So, I had my little pity party, I felt a little bad for myself...and then that got boring and I moved on. (As a friend would say: " I rose above it all, on my broomstick!")
The person who gave me the punching? Well, I never let on to them how painful I found their actions to be.I simply killed them with kindness, as the saying goes. So when they, shortly thereafter, sent me a sincere apology, I brushed it off: no harm done! (Did not feel the need to mention that I had been sincerely hoping the NYPD would pepper-spray them.)
Because, in reality, there was no harm done. After years of feeling at loose ends in my life, and in my work, I've finally figured out some very important things about myself, my life, etc. I've gotten my sh*t together. It's awesome. (Exhausting but awesome.)
So now, do you really think I'd give any person that power over me? I "ha" in your general direction. You don't want to help me? Fine. Go with God, live your life, etc. At this point, I could lose all physical ability, and only be able to blink out the letters of the alphabet and I'd get the job done. It would be brutal. It'd be extremely un-fun for all involved...but it would happen.
I'm not writing this to show off what a bad-ass I am...but to hopefully make you good people out there, who might be going through the same thing, start thinking the same thing about your own passion and determination.