Anxiety in Sassyland

Have you ever read something and realized as you were reading it, that it is explaining exactly how you feel in certain situations? Well, that happened to me last night. The funny thing is, I never really realized what I have experienced had a name or that other people felt it and if I did, I never ever in a million years would have thought that it was something that described ME in any way. I mean…I’m not an idiot.

Thank you, Jennifer Lawson. “Furiously Happy” has opened my eyes to this feeling that takes over my life on certain occasions, and because of this, I feel slightly less strange, weird, psycho, closed-off, odd, scared and even a little alone. In this book of “essays” as it is described, lies a whole lot of truth. A whole lot of real-life hysterically terrifying ways that Jenny has dealt with her mental illness adventures. I say “adventures” because almost each chapter is a story in itself. She is refreshingly honest with her writing and makes the reader feel as though they are there with her ducked under a table or hidden in a bathroom stall or – beside her on the floor of her bedroom with “dead arms” trying to keep the cat from attacking her phone as she dictates the moment she woke up from her nap and the lack of circulation to her arms had caused her to be armless for what seems like an eternity and how she instinctively knew the moments leading up to that moment that morning had to be documented because it was literary GOLD. It’s no wonder that her book as been on the NY Times Bestseller list for 4 straight weeks. There is a desperate need for her voice in this world.

You see, I have a very bubbly personality – more so when I was younger, but at the ripe old age of 44, I’m finding that I still have, for the most part, my bubbliness in tact. I’m social. I like to hang out with my friends and do things and experience things…but sometimes…I’m the exact opposite. Sometimes, I don’t want to be around people or be in a crowd or mingle with people I don’t know. Sometimes the thought of meeting someone new just overwhelms the holy living shit out of me. It’s called “Anxiety”. And an even better term for what I’m self-diagnosing would be “Social Anxiety”.

I was once sent to a networking/marketing class – to learn to network for and market my parents business. What I didn’t realize, until after I got there, was that I was in a room full of artificial people that were all talking to each other, but they weren’t listening to each other. It was as if they were there for show, wanted something out of me – business, word of mouth exposure, me to think they were the most incredible person I had ever met – and there I was…just watching, from the corner. Sweaty. Feeling overwhelmed. Breathing heavily. Avoiding eye contact. Wanting to get the hell out of there as fast as humanly possible. But. I. Couldn’t. I was somewhat petrified. Frozen. Trapped. In this sweaty, hyperventilating state. Plus – I was with someone – a co-worker- who ate this shit up for breakfast. It was probably the longest day of my life. I hate networking.


Another time when anxiety got the best of me was when I returned to my job after vacation and my boss had decided to change my job title without discussing it with me first – no real reason, but I went from an office job to working in a warehouse – apparently the person that they had take over for me while I was on vacation had rainbows flying out of her butt and her mother was a higher up and blammo – Sassy got kicked to the curb. There goes Sassy’s job. Meh – hindsight being what it is – it was for the best. BUT – when it was happening?! Holy shitballs, you guys…I thought I was losing my mind. I really went off the deep end. I walked out of the office to a corner of this huge 50,000 square foot warehouse, all by myself and just bawled my fucking eyes out, called my mom so that she could calm me down. The physical things that happened to me were something I had never experienced before as an adult. My hands started shaking, breathing was erratic, I felt really clammy but hot at the same time. I remember my hearing sort of turned off and there was a slight ringing in my ears. I knew that I was in a full panic attack – even though I hadn’t ever remembered having one before.

There have been other instances – mostly surrounding groups of people that are just really beautiful and thin and have their shit together – where I’ve just retreated to a place where no one else was, usually I was with my husband and just sort of disappeared to a corner or to a table far away from anyone else – typically this happens when I’m with my husbands co-workers at an event or something. I just don’t belong in a room with those people. It’s come to a point where I just really try not to be placed in those situations. If I’m going to hang out with those people, it’s gonna be on my turf, man.

We are throwing a Halloween party this Friday. At our house. My turf. I can totally handle this. You know why? BECAUSE IT’S MY DAMN HOUSE and I CAN GO TO MY ROOM AND SHUT THE DOOR AND HIDE WITH A COCKTAIL! But I won’t because I’m waaaaaaaaaay more comfortable in a controlled environment than I am on neutral ground. Plus, chances are, some asshole isn’t going to show up to my party unless they really want to spend time with me and on the flip-side of that, I don’t invite people I don’t want to spend time with so it’s really a perfect storm.

So, other than my abandonment issues (someday I’ll get into that) and my need for everyone to like me (although age has gotten me to a point where I realize that I really am not that much of a people pleaser anymore and hey, if you like me, awesome. If you don’t, meh…I’ll get over it – I have lots of friends that I love very deeply and who love me in return, so I’m cool, bro.), I’m pretty sure that this anxiety stuff is my only real issue. It doesn’t consume my entire life…but it has made things interesting at times. I’ve missed out on some things I may have otherwise enjoyed, but was crippled by my fear of being put into situations that I couldn’t just remove myself from if I felt the need to leave.



I always get nervous when you people follow me…

You guys…I’m freaking out.

There are times when this blog gets more attention than others and apparently today is the day because I just picked up two new follows and I’m not really sure if you understand this blog enough to follow me…

Seriously though...low standards?

Seriously though…low standards?

HAVE YOU READ ANY OF THIS STUFF?! I mean…I drop F-bombs like I drop the ellipses…frequently…with ABANDON and…well…quite frankly, you’ve got me worried.

And another thing…if you think you are stumbling upon some “writer” that can form a coherent thought and can form proper sentence structure with ease…you’ve got another thing coming.

Usually the posts here are just my thoughts rattled through my fingertips with little regard for proper writing and punctuation, proper tenses…all of that crap that serious writers care so deeply about. WHICH I CAN APPRECIATE, but seriously. You followed a blog with the title “Sassypanties”. How proper can it possibly be?

Not. It’s not proper at all. Thankyouverymuch.

Oh yes, sometimes, I’ll surprise you with some heart felt mushy stuff and my sincere love for Music and hosting House Shows, but mostly it’s just my rantings about my job and how people piss me off and I’m not happy unless I add a “shit” or “motherfucker” in there for good measure. Because I can.

So…I guess you can consider this a warning or…a welcome aboard. Thanks for even considering clicking that follow button. If you choose to stay…I’ll do my best to chase you off.

P.S. You should be really proud of me because I sort of kept my profanity under wraps for the most part with this post. Pretty impressive, I must say.

P.P.S. The ellipses…dude…I told you…I use them…or should I say “mis-use” them…A LOT.

It’s SASSYWEEN, y’all!!!!

Halloween has passed and has left its shrapnel strewn around my house. Masks, lights, skeletons, grave markers, wet artificial spider web, wigs, disrobed costumes and rotten pumpkins ooze down my steps to my front door.

After 200+ trick or treaters, our neighborhood is prepping for the next phase…the planning of Christmas Light Extravaganzas! We slowly turn “Scarecrow Row” (literally…our entire block lines our street with scarecrows) into “Candy Cane Lane”. We do our best to put a dent in the environment by burning copious amounts of energy with our over the top light displays.

Last year we advertised in the paper and asked folks to drive through the neighborhood and bring non-perishable food donations for a local food bank. We collected over 400 pounds of food. This year we got a jump on the invites to Candy Cane Lane by handing out flyers to the parents of our trick or treaters as they demanded treats. Hopefully, we will beat last years food collection totals.

Here’s a few shots of my various costumes and pictures of my house.




You guys! I’m a stagemom! My poor kid…

It’s something that I don’t mind sharing with you because – let’s face it…I’m not like those Dance Mom’s – I swear, y’all…I’m NOT!

I’m more of a gentle whisper than a BIG FAT ASSHOLE. So when we visited The Great State of Texas last week and pulled an old fogey move and went on a tour of the State Capitol Building in Austin, being a person that appreciates acoustics, I asked my daughter to get to the highest point in the rotunda – which just happens to be the 4th floor – and sing the National Anthem. And then…?…this happened, y’all – THAT IS MY BABY!!!!!!!!!

Yes, I was all the way across the other side…and the sound isn’t all that great…but man…that kid can SING HER FACE OFF!

I couldn’t help but share because I’m braggy like that and stuff. Have a great weekend!

Welcome to the new Followers of Sassypanties!

So you clicked that little ” follow” button. Are you sure? Like…really sure you want to do that? Because SHIT GETS REAL UP IN HERE, YO!

Here’s what you can expect out of me – and I’ll provide you with bullet points to make it easy and quick to read, m’kay?

  • Profanity – my faves are: shit, fuck, motherfucker, fucktard, asshead and/or some hybrids thereof that I have GENIOUSLY (if I do say so myself) made up as I’ve gone through life or borrowed from some of my most favorite vulgar people.
  • I will bring the funny on a practically monthly or semi-annual basis. There was a time when I would flood WordPress with posts…but those days are behind me.
  • Truth. I don’t lie and I try not to sugar coat shit…life is hard enough trying to read the mixed signals that fake people throw out into the universe. Ain’t nobody got time fo’ dat.
  • Apartment Manager Tales will continue. I’m an apartment manager. Lots of crazy shit happens around here and I’ve managed to be transferred throughout our company so that I can improve each property that I’ve landed – my most current property is the largest account that our company has in its portfolio and I’ve been here a week. I’ll give it a month before the crazy shit starts hitting the fan and I have to lay the hammer down. The cool part about this new place? I don’t have any cleaning up to do. It’s a well oiled machine and I’m thrilled to be here.
  • I’m sarcastic as FUCK. If you don’t like sarcasm and perfectly placed profanity, then you may want to find another blog to follow.

In a nutshell, if I haven’t upset you by any of these – then WELCOME ABOARD TO THE SASSYLAND EXPRESS! Get ready for a bumpy, funny, profanity-filled ride.

I had a guy blindly follow me once and when he read my post commented, “If I had known you had such a filthy mouth, I wouldn’t have followed you in the first place.” This is why I feel the need to give you a little back ground because – I don’t just want pity-follows here, people. IN FACT – I suspect my follower count will go down because of this post – which I’m perfectly ok with, if you must know.

But Sassy…are you really like this in real life? Meh – my head is like this 100%, but I’ve recently decided that I’ve been blessed with a “self-edit feature” which is REALLY SUPER HANDY WHEN YOU ARE AN APARTMENT MANAGER. These fucking people drive me crazy. I haven’t heard an original excuse as to why someone can’t pay their rent in a long time. I physically have to close my eyes sometimes so that people don’t see my eyes rolling into the back of my head. So – instead of outwardly speaking these profanities – which most certainly would have landed me in the unemployment line – I created a blog. Now I can “say” what I really want to say – when I really want to say it and keep my professionalism in check. It’s a win-win, really. You win (or at least I’d like to think that you do) and I win because I don’t get fired.

The real-life me is quite nice and kind and generous with my friends and family. I care – to a fault. But all of that just means that I need a place to vent – and….LUCKY YOU!

If you have any questions you’d like answered, feel free to ask them in the comment section. If you have an apartment manager question – or just would like to know how Sassy would handle a certain situation, I’ll be happy to provide you with my version of the way shit should go down. Comments are awesome. I don’t really want to fucking beg you to comment or anything, but seriously…would it kill you to type something down there? I mean…it takes just a second or two, right? C’mon…I dare you.


Apartment Manager Tales #27 (I’m just making up numbers at this point)

People are moving out like a MOFO up in this piece, y’all! I had 7 people move out last month and another 4 this month. It’s like…where are you people going?!? Of course I’m re-renting the units at a RECORD PACE.

There are two things that the owner of an apartment complex should be ECSTATIC about – IN THIS ORDER:

  1. Everyone – and I mean EVERYONE paying their rent EVERY MONTH.
  2. ALL of the apartments in the entire complex being rented and occupied.

As a Property Manager there are a couple things that make you stand out from the rest of the property managers. And they are:

  1. Collecting all rent due(internally this means by the 20th of the month – externally to residents it means the 10th of the month).  This means you have to call the ones that don’t pay on time…and you threaten the SHIT out of them with evicting them if they don’t pay up by a certain day. It helps to have a bitch streak running through you – or a bastard streak…can’t leave out the gentlemen out there…
  2. Rent every single apartment in your complex.

I’m proud to say that I have accomplished this goal 3 months in a row…except this month – when SEVEN people jumped ship on me. Never fear…I am a MARKETING IDIOT SAVANT and have almost all of those seven rented already. BOOM.


If that one inch piece of carpet that has come up underneath the built in window seat aaaaaaallllllllllllllllllllllll the way in the back against the wall  is such an embarrassment for you when your friends come over? Maybe I should show them pictures of how you left your last apartment when you transferred to the new one. Yeah…shut the hell up.

So, my maintenance guy thinks that he can just come and go whenever he wants to. Today – he thought it would be fun to take a couple hours for lunch – at first he was talking like he wasn’t coming back to work and I was all: Uh…so when I can I expect you back? He was all: Uh…couple hours. I was all: M’kay. That was at 1pm. It’s now 4:55pm. Someone is getting a RATION OF SHIT tomorrow. And it ain’t gonna be me. NOPE.


That bitch who complained about her carpet? She tried to THREATEN me yesterday with GOING OVER MY HEAD…only little does she know, that I pretty much am an open book and I tell my boss EVERYTHING…even when I fuck up so bad I think I’m gonna get fired? He laughs and thinks I’m funny and tells me I’m a dork for worrying so much. So when she said that? I was all: M’kay…g’head…can’t wait to see how this ends…

So sent a text to my boss and I told him about the situation and his response? Oh – I usually just let people blab on and on and set the phone on the desk – or I’ll just delete the message.

I love him.


PEOPLE ARE NOT PICKING UP AFTER THEIR DOGS AROUND HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It’s driving me BATSHIT CRAZY! Like, if anyone rents from me? I’m CRYSTAL CLEAR about the leash law around here and the fact that they have certain places to take their dogs and that THEY MUST PICK UP THE DOG SHIT. Absolutely NO excuses. NONE. $50 fine. I just posted nastygrams all over the complex and will be kicking some people out that can’t take care of their animals. I’m about to not allow dogs here anymore.

I was really hoping to give you some randomness today – but this turned out to be an Apartment Manager Tales post in its entirety. There’s always next time.



A picture is worth a thousand words…or less…


I have a friend that posts pictures to Facebook and asks the viewer to gaze at the photo and write a summary of the feelings that it induces – it can be a feeling that it conjures, a short story, a poem, a song. Anything at all, really.

This photo was shared by another friend of mine and a mutual friend wrote as a comment, “Riding his steed deep into the misty English moors onward to yet another battle.”

Does this photo move you in any way? Positive or negative? Leave me a comment below.