a mindset

A place.  A moment.  It's what you know you're bound for and every time you think you're there you realize...  you're not.
It's not necessarily a good place to be or even where you want to be but because it's where you're going, and it makes the most sense...  logically...  you really just can't wait to get there.
It's actually kind of sad.

But Christmas is almost here and I'm underprepared, underwhelmed and not really caring as much as I should but I know I can place the bulk of the blame for that on the extraordinary disappointment that was last Christmas.  I'm not sure what I can do if this year proves to be its equal.

However I am looking forward to the week off work and the trip down south that I still have to plan.  Pain and life keep getting in the way and why on earth did we buy tickets for a show for tomorrow night?  We should have known better.

But things are getting done and falling into place and at least I remembered to write "turkey" on the grocery list so it's likely to actually get done.

I have to think and decide and hopefully come the new year I'll find myself here a little more often as I'm trying to create time in my morning - which is honestly the best time for me to write - but it's a gradual training to get up earlier and it does me no good when I decide to be lazy and not do my chores.

summer is almost gone...

It's the moment where giving any fucks about anything at all has become more a liability than anything else.  The next two weeks, with the weird work schedule, the social engagements, school starting and the Convention...  there is simply no room for much else.  The cats get what they need-obviously-but not much else.  Downtime is lost in a smokey haze of old school V.C. Andrews and the longing for routine and sameness in my days to come.  Although that never lasts more than a week or two...  and while September promises to be relatively quiet I can't think of a month where there isn't something...  something happening even if it's as innocuous as Valentine's Day.  My mind has stuttered and stumbled through this day like a record scratched and warped on a wind-up without a crank. 
Another summer has passed without any work done on the house.  The drywall patches still need tape and mud, the walls still need to be painted, the art still rests in a box rather than hanging on the empty, dreary walls.  Although the tree in the backyard is gone and landscaping can now occur there are matters of time, money and no fucking clue what we really want to do with the space.  Then there's the bathroom...  and I have no clue how bad the damage truly is but I suspect the sub floor has water damage and the drywall behind the shower is probably also in truly bad shape.  I'm almost afraid of what they'll find upon demolition...  but we have yet to even discuss what we want to do with the room...  we simply know it must be done.
I've neglected people outside my immediate "they live in my house" family and even then only feel guilt when I consider my mother - and then - only because I miss her.  Sometimes I believe I have too many friends to keep them all as close as I want them...  but sometimes I wish I had more friends.
Above all else I wish I had more time, and of course money, but then...  how does that differ from how everyone else feels?

How you perceive. Did you know that we all perceive the world differently? I know it seems like a "Duh" statement but honestly - fucking hear me out here.

If it's the kind of thing that doesn't bear repeating then why do people seem to have such a hard time with it?

Did you know that the police can interview four eyewitnesses and get four different descriptions of the perpetrator?

Did you know that two people can have the same experience and one can come away happy while the other is upset?

Did you know that many things come together over the course of our lives to shape our perception - and that how we see the world does chaenge over time?

You hear "tastes change" and that's true... that movie you hated in your 20's and love in your 30's is because your perception has changed-your view of the world is different... it goes the other way too. You loved a book in middle school but as an adult you think it's horrid trash. Perspective.

This is why empathy is so fucking important.

Because every single person sees and experiences the world differently we have to have a certain ability to see that.

We need to see other ways of seeing.

We need to comprehend other ways of perceiving an event.

Did you know that many things come together over the course of our lives to shape our perception - and that how we see the world does change over time? Stop flipping out when those expectations, emotions and reactions don't match your preconceived notion of them.

Don't get mad because someone doesn't respond the way you think they should.

This is you projecting. You are projecting yourself. When another person does not react to a given situation the way you would - or the way you want them to... this is not a reason for you to get mad. I do not fucking care if the person is your child, your spouse, or a stranger - you have no right.

So many times I have seen, or been a part of, arguments about how much someone "cares."

Do not tell someone how they feel.

Don't do it.

Never, ever.

I know you're -fill in emotion here-

Why are you -fill in emotion here-

Just no.

You are gunning for a fight.

Do not police other people's emotions.

Don't get upset if you perceive they are feeling a way other than you think they should be feeling.

Most importantly... do not judge their current feelings by their facial expression.

Do you know how many arguments I could have avoided in my life if people didn't think they understood every nuance of my face?

You want your own feelings and perceptions of the world to be heard, you want to feel validated?

So does everyone else... and the way to get that is not to force your viewpoint on other people and get angry when they toe the line of what you perceive as the acceptable reactions for their life... the way to feel validated in your experience is to help other people feel that way too.

I fucking hate the Fourth of July.

Last night the spouse said he just wanted a regular fourth of July... a normal Fourth.

I almost laughed hysterically.

I fucking hate the Fourth of July. Every single year his parents dictate what we do. They want to do something and we say no. Then the conversation dies as any attempt we make to come up with plans that are fun for everyone are disregarded. Everything is up in the air and there are no solid plans until the actual day of... and we end up doing the very thing that we didn't want to do because that's what they want...

This may be un-American of me and I know it's an unpopular opinion but I don't care - I don't care about fireworks. I could take them or leave them. Once you've seen one fireworks show you've seen them all. I'd rather fucking stay home.

I never force my view on anyone else. But almost every year I mention that I would like to stay home.

I see no point in going out to some deserted place to get a "good view" and mind you by the time the people I'm with head to the spot all the "good views" are taken by the people who have been sitting out in this field all day with their coolers and their umbrellas and their chairs... the people who have literally sat out for half the day to get a good view of some fucking sky explosions that will last 20-30 minutes. It's not new, there's nothing new about it. It's like getting together to watch the same episode of Friends every single year... and don't forget we're gonna play this same episode at ball games, amusement parks and some neighborhoods - FOR YOUR ENTIRE LIFE. It's the same half hour it was 35 years ago. When it's all over and it's time to go... there's a battle royale on the roads as everyone tries to get out of wherever they are so they can go home. Traffic is a standstill. Sitting in your car surrounded by cars and nobody is moving because we're all converging on one Stop Sign from three different directions and we all need to go the exact same way... you'll crawl 2 feet every minute and sit there in your car for twice as long as you sat there watching shit explode.

I would rather stay home. I have no desire to experience the panic that comes with sitting in a car that is essentially trapped on all sides. Even if I'm not driving the situation will spike my anxiety. To subject myself to that for something I do not even enjoy just seems... cruel. I mean... Come sit here and do this thing you don't want to do so that you can have a panic attack when it's over!!! WooHoo!!

But every year I wind up going to watch the fucking fireworks because for some reason the idea of me staying home while everyone else goes out is a horrible idea and nobody agrees with it. How can I not like fireworks.

The belief is that I don't want to be "inconvenienced."

Panic attacks are horribly inconvenient.

In 15 years I have gone to Fourth of July fireworks against my wishes 12 times.

Twice I got to sit them out and once I actually *wanted* to go because it was the boy's first time.

Twice in fifteen years I have gotten to sit out the fireworks... it was "allowed."

Yet every year it's "I know you don't like to do it, but."

I know you don't want to, I know you hate it... but. BUT. But what?

We want to spend time with you.

It will be fun.

Here's a fucking newsflash for you...

If you want to spend time with someone don't force them through guilt and manipulation to do things they don't want to do. That's not quality time, that's you being a fucking asshole and I guarantee that they will be pissed off, not have nearly as much fun as they would have had they come of their own free will, and they will hold that grudge for a very, very long time...

Never, ever tell someone "It will be fun!" if it's an experience which they have had before and are now stating they have no desire to repeat.

If I've never had fun at the petting zoo guilt tripping me to go to the petting zoo and telling me it's going to be a great time is all bullshit. It makes you look like a total asshole. Not only that... but when someone is made to do something they don't want to... they make it decidedly unfun for everyone else.

Being accused of "ruining it for everyone else" when forced to take part in an activity I expressly stated I had no interest in to begin with...

It's hard to care when you don't care

It's funny how chaotic my life has gotten and how stubbornly I'm clinging to routine and normalcy and let me do the things that need to be done...  I know that this summer is going to change our lives I'm simply not sure how.  As I struggle to be supportive knowing that I can't go visit the family member in hospital and not only because of my personal feelings towards the person but also...  also because being there for any length of time and seeing them in that mental state does absolutely nothing good for me.  It turns my brain sideways and makes me shiver and shake and I get angry and the anxiety takes over and why am I angry?  Because I can't embrace the anxiety and because my anxiety makes people upset with me.  Because they don't understand.   At least...  they don't understand when it's me.

But that is what it is and I can only hope that my repeated explanations and brief moments of letting it happen when can see it...  not hiding it so they can deal with it with me...  dealing with how upset they get and fighting the urge-the need-to get upset right back at them...  how can they be so concerned and supportive while one family member deals with severe anxiety while another has been quietly suffering for 5 years-unable to talk to them about it because of the selfish and disbelieving response?

It's further hard to give a damn when I don't give a damn.  I'm more concerned with how the habitual behavior of those involved is impacting me personally.  It's selfish of me to be wrapped up in how their selfishness affects me, but it's how I think of them...  and it's hard to alter that when they're in crisis because...  Because even in the circumstances I find their requirements to be excessive. 

My own family has had similar occurrences and I was not required to pause my life as my husband has been required these last few weeks.   As he falls behind on things and fights his own issues of insomnia and depression he's not allowed to sink into routine or ever fully relax as his phone never stops and the added pressure of being needed by family overwhelms him in even his quietest moments.

It's hard to care when I don't care.  When one of the most toxic people in your life is in need and you are required to care because of their relationship to you and circumstances in your life...  yet you've made it abundantly clear that you do not like nor respect the individual...  it's as though all those conversations never happened...  or as though personal feelings should somehow be altered because of one's health.  Just because you are ill does not mean I should suddenly like you.  I can be concerned for your well-being because of the impact it has on people I love but to be required to give a damn about you after the way you've treated me over the years?  It's a bit much.  Never am I defended against your actions and words and I'm told that's just the way you are and to just learn to deal with it...  and I'm supposed to fucking care.

I'm just trying to hold on to myself right now.

random workplace rumbling

The unfortunate side effect of having most of my best thoughts in the morning is that finding uninterrupted morning time to write is incredibly difficult.  I am, however, making strides in solidifying my morning routine in an effort to not only get things accomplished so they're not hanging over my head all day - after all who likes to come home from a long day at work and spend an hour doing chores before they get to take off their shoes?  I'll slowly start adapting my wake up time until I'm getting the chores accomplished before the boy wakes up so that I can spend that time writing - or reading, but while I adapt I'm left unwilling to open this page for fear of not being able to say what I want to...  of course today that urge is too great.

I'm incredibly irritated about some decisions that were made at work.

A major surgery is being done today at our sister clinic and in the interest of having things run smoothly we're sending an extra person.  This way our technician can assist in the surgery without having to worry about answering phones or helping with clients.  The surgeon who is coming in is rather exacting and only a few of us can comfortably work with him - the doctor who works at the other clinic is useless with customer service and won't assist the surgeon, will instead hover and ask a hundred questions while the technician does the bulk of the work.

In my mind it made more sense to schedule the surgery for the main clinic, where the staff is already in place.  Instead, we lose a tech at our busier location and now I go in to work an hour early. 

This is the one night a week we are open late - we close at 8:00pm.  I typically work from 11:00-8:00, closing the clinic every Wednesday.  I don't generally take issue with this, even though I don't get home until almost nine, have a child in elementary school, and despite such a late start my day still begins at 6:20.

Going in an hour early wouldn't be a big deal...  if it were rather infrequent.  However, it seems like every time I turn around I'm going in at 10:00.  If I get a long lunch I'm able to come home at lunch - but then half of my lunch hour is spent in the car driving back and forth.  Or I can pull an hour of overtime but the schedule is rarely busy enough to warrant that and as nice as the money may be I have no desire to work a 9+ hour shift.

I'm irritated, almost pissed off.  I'm the only staff member with a kid.  I've worked at this particular clinic longer than anyone else.  Not only that...  but I've been in this industry for 15 years and that, my friends, is more than my co-workers - combined.

So please tell me why the fuck I have this shitty shift and have to go play the game an hour earlier than usual?  Cause I'm  tired of it...  and sincerely cannot wait for the day my husband tells me to quit giving him money every month for the mortgage so I can cut my hours and stop working on Wednesdays...