
Last evening I got a bat signal text. When I called the dear friend back she was in tears. I'm talking major diva down distress signal.
I asked her what was wrong and she admitted to me that she was extremely overwhelmed about dream making issues and was seriously wondering if she had what it takes.
I listened.
When she paused I asked was she finished.
She said yes and then I said, "What do you want me to tell you?"
She was taken aback by that and then I took the opportunity to break it down for her thusly:
If you're calling for me to tell you that I don't think you have it in you and therefore you should just quit...I can't tell you that. I can't tell you that you're not good enough because you are. If you want me to let you feel sorry for yourself...I can't do that either. Why? Because I know that shit is unproductive and has never helped anyone get to where they want to be when they wallow in it for too long. If you want me to tell you if I ever have doubts my damn self I'll tell you yes and that I allow my doubts to work for me BIG.TIME. There have been times when I have been a sobbing MESS and Robby has straight up looked at me and been like..."What's that helping?"
And it made sense with his evil ass.
You want to know what I'm doing right now? I'm trying to figure out this stoopit glitch on the pagination feature in Word on my sister's dissertation. She got frustrated because something weird just happened and I'm trying to work around the glitch. My sister is a single mother and goes to school full-time and gets her hustle on. She got a scholarship to go to school and she had to maintain to keep it. She is about to be presented with her DOCTORATE degree. Would you like to know how many times she's felt EXACTLY the way you're feeling now while she was in school? PLENTY. And guess what? That monkey ain't stop no show. She would call me and I told her the same ish I'm telling you which is basically...Okay...you're having a bad day. Cry it out, recalibrate, get organized and get back at it because it sounds like you have a lot of work to do.
I love you but I'm damn sure not to allow you to count yourself out. You're too damn smart for that. This is what you want. Go get it.
And I got off the phone.
Dr. Punkin called me a while later and I was telling her about my girlfriend feeling some kinda way.
Dr. Punkin: What did you tell her?
Me: The same thing I used to tell you.
Dr. Punkin: AW LAWD! THE POOR GIRL MIGHT BE TRYING TO KILL HERSELF AFTER A DOSE OF YOUR EVIL AZZ!
Me: Evil? Whatever! My words are very prolific!
Dr. Punkin: Yeah...cuz I've known your azz for 41 years and so I know how you get down. She might not know that if it was her first Monnie pep talk.
Me: Oh.
Dr. Punkin: Yeah...Oh.
Me: Hold on...Imma call her. You tell her something soft and ish.
So I called my girlfriend and Dr. Punkin told her something soft and ish. I let both them heffas know that I was prolific and was offended at the thought it wasn't immediately noticed by my damn sister.
Friend: No...you told me exactly what I needed to hear. At first I was like...DA HELL? But then I recognized the love.
Me: Humph.
Dr. Punkin: YOU SO DAMN EVIL!
I am not evil. I knew what she needed and she knew she'd get what she needed from me. The situation didn't warrant me pretending to feel sorry for her because I don't. I recognize she's got what it takes and told her so. Oh...and I love her.
A.MEN!
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