No Idea

For some reason, I had been coaxed by my baby sister to do dropship.

Drop shipping is a supply chain management method in which the retailer does not keep goods in stock but instead transfers customer orders and shipment details to either the manufacturer, another retailer, or a wholesaler, who then ships the goods directly to the customer.

So whimsically I saw a product with a celebrity’s name on it and just paid some dollars for the dropshipping rights. But what we all don’t know is the struggle handling the overall social media for me.  More on the visceral gripping of groping for attention.

I have a site of jewelry of my own, and cookies/cakes page of my mom’s but I can never grasp the handling of the social media. It’s all taxing with taking photos and loading and loading and posting and no response from the public except one or two likes. Seriously, I was lucky that the Mothership (the main stockist) carries an additional 7-9 brand names that I am able to market them all for them. However, I find that all the other products are more to my liking than of the celebrity’s.

Marketing, is going to the market for me. So marketing it on social media, is tiring. Because it’s daunting. For me. I’m a Lurch. Or a Wednesday. Not the extroverted Gomez Addams. We just sit back and observe. Completely hands off doing the work to gain any attention.

So how am I supposed to get the people in to ooze the juice?

No idea.


I must be invisible. No. Oh, crap.

DH won’t add me on social media. It has been quite a task when wanting to share info/articles/holiday places with him. And so last night one of his brothers threw a surprise party for Elliot. When coming home, he stayed so long fixing his IG posting the photos and videos. It continued to morning.

“I never get to see them,” I said.

“See what?”

“The photos, the videos. Whatever that I don’t have. Whatever that I can never see.”

Here’s where the hurt deepens. My sister has a problem. She is a people person who claims to be an introverted person, constant chatter, who likes to get into people’s laundry just because it will all make her feel better. It’s insincere. I have accepted that I cannot (no longer have the tolerance to) digest her.

So, we attended an event that DH posted a video of in his IG. She texted him within minutes asking him to send her the video copy. *crickets*  I repeat. Asking Making him to send.

I didn’t even know he posted anything. I will never know. I am never going to be on his friend list. And my freaky sister gets to follow him. I’m his F wife.

“I don’t see what’s the problem? I don’t understand.”

“You know what?” pulling my phone close, “I’m just gonna private my account. It makes life nicer for me. I mean, how kind was I to open it to public just so you could see what photos I put of our kids. But you know what? Why should I care in the first place? It’s so stupid to always consider other people rather than considering myself or what satisfies me. Everybody else knows what you put in there except this woman (pointing to self). So it’s okay to feel a little bit stupid when people talk to you about your DH’s IG and you answer ‘Oh sorry, he tells me I can never be his friend on IG or FB’ to them.”

“You public your IG?”

“It doesn’t matter. Easier for me to do this. I don’t need to meddle in whatever sh*tty feeling (that I’m so sure I’m gonna dwell in) so done. It’s private now.”

At 9AM, he sends me a message saying he has public his IG. I told him I don’t give a F. He persists for me to see. I told him, “No need. Thanks.”

I can’t even capture a word to how this all feels. It segregates my solitary feeling into silo. Not to the level of being in an emotional trance yet, but it’s within vicinity; like reciting the sounds of a humming bird. I don’t even know if it makes any sense to you. Well actually, I don’t care.

And so as the morning went, it turns out that indicatively I am to clear turds for other people this week. All unknown turds that are not mine. Oh just crap. Just please wish me luck.

Yellow Fish

Having rained the night before, today begins slow and cool. I have been tardy this week. Elliot is unwell. He has enlarged neck glands for the past 2 days. Lucky for me, I didn’t get him any ice cream for his birthday yesterday.  This swelling began appearing since 2 years ago.

As say WebMD: The glands on either side of the neck, under the jaw, or behind the ears commonly swell when you have a cold or sore throat. Glands can also swell following an injury, such as a cut or bite, near the gland or when a tumor or infection occurs in the mouth, head, or neck.

Then I began searching for change.

I was talking to my sister last night and it was about adjusting expenses for me. It’s the thing that keeps me awake at night. The plans of how to maintain/improve the household when any of our parents pass on. Our father has willed that the house cannot be sold unless all his children are married. Then the ones living in the house have to pay the ones staying out, rent.

It was a good conversation. She gave me insight, as I did her. Then I tell her that she should look at buying a property. It doesn’t matter whether she will stay there or not. It’s the fact that after after 5 years or so when she finally settles in with her life, she can sell it off anytime.

There are many things I have to do to improve my life. But like I tell her, my intention is huge (to clearing clutter in the house) but to think that in the end I WILL end up doing it alone, so it’s just…

So this morning I looked at migrating. I wish I can. I just need to drop everything else and move somewhere else. Just stay there until I’m bored and then leave. Somewhere I can live debt-less and create jewelry, shoes that can fit this boat sized swollen-like feet etc. It is far fetched. But all those things that I think of doing, I can do them now here from where I am.

I need to de-clutter. De-clutter our rooms, our corridors, our spare room, our patios. This is knowing that no one else will help. Knowing that I am so relied on when clearing things physically and emotionally. Knowing that I am tired of doing and then everyone else seems to have a better idea about it. But if I don’t do it, who will? And after all I don’t ever see us moving out. I don’t ever see that anyone else will be able to take care of it. So I must do it because it will satisfy me that I am improving my quality of life, even if it takes heartaches to do it.

I know I am different, and there is reason why I am. My family is one who won’t decide but expects of you to give/provide/offer. I only expect you have the best for yourself, just because you ought to. I must not forget my strength, that I am not like them. Buying new things or staying still won’t improve lives; improvement is making what you have better to suit you.

It is a good time to unfurl. This woman needs the wind of change – improvement of living, increasing life satisfaction even if it means me doing it alone. And I think that wishing itself is already a good start. It shows that I’m already out of the box.

Many years apart except one day

Today is Elliot’s birthday. Today is also Donnie’s birthday. They are nineteen years apart. I am 11 years apart from Donnie. And 30 years apart from Elliot (Please ignore if I’m not making any sense right now).

Today has also been a challenge for me to stay awake. I did fall flat sleeping. I still feel a tad sleepy despite the power nap 10 minutes that left my right eye grainy blur for the next 10 minutes. How I slept, I have no idea! I’m the worst employee (I’m so sorry, Boss – I’m crap at the job you’re hiring me for)! The things that happen as I grow older, have been unbelievable. I caught myself dozing on the chair facing upwards a few days ago. I know, that’s just nasty…

I managed to drive myself at lunch in fighting spirit to fight off the sleepy, to get 2 tiny cakes – one for Elliot, one for my brother. My gift for Donnie will always be Elliot, year in year out. But this year, he gets himself a tiny cake from me. Lol.

I need to go home now.



I am at the edge of darkness. Partial lids are covering my eyes forcefully. At the corner of my eyes I see Glasses. With much of mind’s concentration, I attempt at whisking his attention telepathy-ing “Come feed me with cigarettes”. Of course he ignores me. He has no idea. *Crickets*

The best of life’s philosophy is when you are at your wits’ end trying to fight sleep.