Living For Paydays and Fridays.

Seems like every Friday, I think about finding a new job and I say I’m going to work on my resume or update my LinkedIn over the weekend; then suddenly it’s already Monday morning and my alarm is going off.  I get up and start making myself breakfast – I actually make myself a good breakfast, no cereal or protein shakes, like solid food – and I as I am sitting at the kitchen table eating my half ass gourmet breakfast, I realize my motivation is at a deficiency level.   You always hear adulting is hard:  It really is!  And I’m not talking about just working to pay the mortgage or rent, utilities, groceries, etc.  The emotions of being an adult is insane and I think of the Albert Einstein quote, “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results”.  Some may describe the grown up, endless routine of going to work and going home as security, and there is nothing wrong with that mentality.  The world revolves around routine.  Some may argue routine prevents us from living our lives to the fullest, but everyone has a different view of how to live life to the fullest.  However you all look at it, it’s all good as long as you personally are content.

But I on the other hand, am going insane.  And yet motivation takes so much energy.  I’m not lazy, but I fight with depression at times and so far depression is kicking my ass.  My mind is constantly turning, so much that I don’t even know what I’m thinking about anymore.  Numb. That is what I am becoming, numb.  My days are so redundant, I can make do with my eyes closed.   My routine is becoming a blur; for a while now my days just feel like one loooong day.

I don’t know.  I’m sorry if this post just seems like nonsense and I stepped away from the RSS subject this time.  I just need to vent sometimes.

I Bet You Feel Real Good About Yourself.


People can be ignorant and rude to each other; now add the fact you are short, then they can be just straight up condescending and dismissive.  As much as I love to give the benefit the doubt with every one, sometimes my doubt in people is just accurate.  You always see people talk or post on social media encouraging everyone – especially women – to stand up for themselves and much respect for people who don’t take sh*t from anyone, but the moment you actually put those words into action, then you are automatically a bad person.

About a year ago, I was at the movies standing in line in the concession stand when a woman either didn’t see me or just thought I was a kid, when and cut me in line.  In a civilized manner I told her, “Ma’am, I’m sorry but I’m next in line, you must have not saw me”, she did not say anything and just maneuvered behind me.  After a few moments, she said under her breath and behind my back, “you must feel real good about yourself”.  I was caught off guard because I didn’t think I said anything to offend her and I was not rude.  What I did was bruised her ego a bit, because a really short person, a person they typically look down upon, stood up for themselves and she did not like the feeling.  If I were an average height women she would have said sorry right away, move behind me, and let it go, but since my height is of a child, I am not allowed to defend myself against “normal” people.  I am not worthy of respect and being treated the same as any body else.  To an ignorant person like her, anyone who looks like me, just needs keep quiet and allow for everyone else to walk all over us and to not be treated fairly.  We should be last in line, we should be the last to speak, and God forbid we make them feel bad for not conforming to their expectations.

I just acted like I didn’t hear her and moved on, because I HAVE TO BE THE BIGGER PERSON and she sure as hell didn’t deserve to see me upset.  I refused to give her – anyone for that matter – such satisfaction.

There is certainly a possibility she would have said that comment to anybody, but it is much easier for cowards to pick on the little guy and even easier to talk behind people’s backs.  I would have been impressed if she would have to said it to my face, looking at me in the eyes; but like I have repeatedly said, I was not worthy of such an interaction.

Sometimes, I do wish I would have said something, because yes, I did allow for her to get away with saying such hurtful words, but I did not allow myself to be overlooked.  Since then I refuse condescending behavior from anyone, but I also know my limits.   That incident did not deter me continuing to stand up for myself; no one should tolerate such ignorant and sometimes hateful behavior.  It’s truly disheartening how so many treat people of short stature with such disdain and disrespect, and even more disturbing, is how ignorance is so rapid and contagious.


You Heard Russell Stover Syndrome.


Seriously, if I was given a centimeter of height for every time a person thought I said I have Russell Stover Syndrome instead of Russell Silver Syndrome, I would literally be able to look over bathroom stalls – not that I ever would, that’s creepy.   If you don’t know, Russell Stover is overpriced, mediocre chocolate sold in the United States – no offense, if you’re a fan.  Ironically though, Russell Stover teamed up with Graham Ice Cream Company to sell Eskimo Pies – thank you Wikipedia!  Eskimos are known for being diminutive.

I take this constant misunderstanding as people – most – just love sweets and I can’t speak for everyone, but I love food so much, that I myself tend to hear edible words – i.e. nacho instead of macho, steak instead of break.  So, I can’t really get too upset, but it can get incredibly annoying, because I have had this particular conversation way too often.  I get it, average height people are curious on why some people are too short or too tall.   More frustrating, I can’t even accuse the person I am speaking with are being inconsiderate and not listening.    THEY LITERALLY LOOK AT ME IN THE FACE AND ASK, “SO, WHY ARE YOU SO SHORT” AND CONTINUE TO KEEP EYE CONTACT AS I TELL THEM THE ANSWER.

Here is how is typically goes down and I see it coming right before I even utter the words:  Russell. Silver. Syndrome.   It starts with a perplexed look on their faces, then a few seconds of silence, then in a semi-high pitched voice, they inquisitively say , “Russell Stover Syndrome”?! It takes all my 4’6″ (1.3716 m) strength to not roll my eyes or reveal any annoyance with a friendly poker face.  I remain cordial and respond with a fake laugh and correct their moronic response.

It feels like I have dealt with this question and response conversation since I started constructing sentences.  I should start carrying around little boxes of Russell Stover candies and whoever asks me why I’m so short and actually responds with, “did you say Russell Silver”, I will present them with a sweet prize and a sincere smile.

Mom: A Title Just Above a Queen.



When I was born, they whisked me away immediately after my mom gave birth to me, she did not experience the quintessential moment of holding her first baby, but upon bringing me home a month after I was born…She has never let me go since.

I will forever be grateful for my mom for teaching her RSS child to be strong, and independent, yet not be too proud to ask for help.  Her constant tough love – i.e. you better grab a chair and do the dishes  – when I was a kid, was one of her many lessons and reminders that being short is just an obstacle not an excuse.

As her first born, it had to be such a frightening experience to have a child with RSS; my mom rose to the occasion with love, strength, and bravery that can only be described as the unconditional love of a mother .

To all the mother’s of RSS children: I hope you all had a wonderful Mother’s Day.  Thank you for your love, strength, and bravery.