Introducing . . . Kimbo!

You know how people use funny quotes and graphics in a facetious way?

I don't do that so much.

When I post silly commentaries on klutziness, laziness, or outright incompetence, they're usually pretty spot on. Enough so that I periodically sweep my home, looking for recording and listening devices.

Nah, just kidding. That would require effort. But I do curl up in bed some nights and cast furtive glances at the ceiling light fixture.

Problem is, when I make myself all vulnerable and outright admit my weaknesses, PEOPLE DO NOT BELIEVE ME. And really, I can't fault them for that. My awesomeness has reached such epic proportions now, it's no wonder people can't see the truth. The blinding glare of my glorious self is a bit hard to squint through, after all.

Not to mention, there's the tiny issue of my duality. Okay, it's probably more than a duality at this point. I'm a mashup of so many different personalities that I've secretly given them all names*.

Some days, I work so hard I sweat awesomeness. I write thousands of words, do all the dishes and all the laundry (yes, there is such a thing as caught up on the laundry - it consists of throwing clothes in the washing machine right after you peel them off), cook meals from scratch, am the soul of loving kindness with my children and throw impromptu dance parties in the kitchens, co-write silly stories with them, and say ALL THE RIGHT THINGS.

I really like that personality. She goes by my full name, Kimberly. She's who I want to be if I ever get around to "growing up."

But I also have a personality named "Kimbo." I like to pretend I earned that particular nickname by having "Rambo-esque" traits, but truth is, Kimbo is more closely connected to the derogatory term, "Bimbo." Which is fitting because I am VERY derogatory towards myself when Kimbo is on the scene.

Kimbo has always been a part of me, but she really hit her stride during my complicated pregnancies, back injuries, and more recently, a bout of mono that had me bed-ridden off and on for nearly a year. Thing is, Kimbo thinks self-respect isn't something she deserves. She thinks life is hard and interacting with people is even harder, and hey, wasn't it nice when we HAD to stay in bed all day and oooo, look! People are being interesting on Twitter, let's do THAT today.

Kimbo is, in short, a moron. She has no concept of balance, despite a sneaking suspicion that it's probably good for her or something. Under Kimbo's watch, the dishes pile up, Mt. McLaundry forms on the floor of the laundry room (a floor that, at times, is not exactly visible), and the vacuum tends to get "lost."

Seriously. Kimbo's been in charge the past week or so and I have NO FREAKING CLUE where my vacuum is right now.

So if I seem to contradict myself sometimes, you now know why. If I'm talking about how pathetically lazy I am one day, and being SUPER CRAZY AWESOMELY productive the next, it will actually make a certain (bizarre) kind of sense.

You can even call me Kimbo when I'm being ridiculous. That can help.

Probably the biggest and best epiphany I've ever had was the realization that Kimbo is just one part of me. And while I'm not always terribly fond of her, she does have her endearing qualities. She's weak, and she's flawed, but it's because of her that I have as much compassion for my fellow humans as I do. 

While I'm trying to nudge Kimbo away from my life's steering wheel, I hope she stays in the car. Because I don't ever want to forget what it is to struggle and strive for self-mastery. I think that's something we're all working at, and that commonality is a big part of what makes it so easy to love people. 

The people who are harder for me to love, tend to be the ones who pretend there's no Kimbo-like aspect of their personality. Who pretend at perfection as if tricking people is a worthy, happy-making life goal. 

Or maybe they really are perfect, in which case I maybe hate them a little bit. But that's a whole other topic altogether. I'll introduce you to Kim-zilla another day . . .

*This is, by its very nature, a joke. I do not have split personality disorder and my heart goes out to those who do.

No comments:

Post a Comment