Tag: people

mental health, perspective

Just 11 Days

2chicksandapen

It was the wee hours of the morning. 4:00 am to be exact. The loneliness set in. My partner in crime was whisked away yet again for 11 days. These days seem manageable in isolation yet in combination lies the challenge. 

The void that lingers. 11 days. 22 days. 33 days. When a year passes and you miss far more days than you have the sadness sets in. How much was missed? How much made the cut? Was it enough? Some weeks it’s a Monday that you feel the toll in life hit. Other weeks the sleepless worry hits on Tuesday. Sometimes it hits more than one day. It’s a vicious cycle.

Sometimes life puts obstacles or signals in your path to test your strength: to test your resilience. Sometimes these barriers seem impossible yet we find a way to push onward. I’m in the midst of reading the latest royal book, Spare. It’s odd to think about the word spare in the context of the book. A spare child. A spare heir. A spare to discard. No matter how many pages deep I am in the book, I will be forever held up by the word spare.

My life doesn’t have spares. I don’t have spare kids. I don’t have spare friends. I don’t have spare time with either. I don’t spare any part of my life. That means the time I miss can’t be spared at all. Oh the quandary of that latter statement.

How do you count time when you can’t spare time? You don’t. You wander through empty space as if time wasn’t associated. A wading of sorts. You are there but not really there. The shell of you is present but the mind space has drifted somewhat to a space in time that is all-inclusive of your special people. Drifting or wading through memories of past and memories to come in the future.

The book speaks to losing a mum. I have a mum. A mummy. A mommy. I certainly don’t have a spare mommy and I am certainly not a spare to my kids. Rather I’m present just like my mom. No matter the challenge I’m there. No matter the challenge she is there. But one day will Mommy always be there? The sad reality is no. For now I won’t spare my time as mummy or with mummy for it is valued. For those of you who don’t have that opportunity with your mum, my heart hurts for you.

With grief many occupy head space with memories of those lost but not forgotten. Sometimes that includes a mom. I reflect on this as a mom I know lost her battle with cancer this week. Her time wasn’t spared. 

Many include the missing in future plans honoring their memories. Holding on to the happy times together. I do this often. My nephew. My dad. My good friends. Those gone too soon due to death, but there are others who leave for other reasons. Maybe a big move to a new city. Maybe an experience of a lifetime overseas. Maybe even a work obligation causing one to live elsewhere temporarily. Time away. A void that may never be replaced.

I may lose 11 days today. 22 days the next cycle or 33 the next round. What makes this particular trek difficult is the unknown. How long does time sit in this stage. Does it continue for infinity as it does with one who dies? Does it keep looping in terms of days or weeks as it does now? I can’t stay lost in the empty space of consciousness. I must shift.

As 2023 rounded the corner I shifted from the dullness of being lonely to a new mindset of lonely. One that isn’t perfectly designed as I’m in it. I’m just more aware. I’m conscious within the subconscious. I’m trucking through new obstacles in a different way. I’m not sparing time as time can’t be spared. People can’t be spared. Those important will never be spare at all. I’m valuing the front and center and focusing less on the loss(es). 

None of us can reverse time. None of us can spare or bank time. Every week I will be present in my own little ways. Avoiding spare time. Spare people. Forging ahead on borrowed time. If there is such a thing.

inspire

Writers Block

2chicksandapen

Lately I’ve felt like I’ve had writer’s block. I have a lot to write but I don’t necessarily want to write as most of it appears negative. However, when I sit back and reflect I think it’s the perfect time to write. Go offload the blah.

When thinking about a picture for this post I immediately thought of my current book passed on to me. The No Asshole Rule is my current read. Although just into it a few pages I thought about the title. It’s meaning. It’s importance. Then I thought about my writings. My audience. My titles. The importance, hence you get today’s joyful rant. Consider this the no asshole zone. Or maybe I am an asshole. Asshat. Arsehole. Assclown.

The system(s) of life can be draining. The political system. The government system. The judicial system. The whole nine yards. Systems are in place to maintain consistency and reduce problems. However, many of our systems are outdated at best. Many systems are broken. What used to work doesn’t. When systems show signs of weakness they should be able to bend and flex, but it doesn’t because it’s a fixed system.

Life is messy. People are messy. Drama is always lurking. Money is the root of all evil in my eyes and ties to most systems, people and problems. The more you have the more you waste. The more money you have, the bigger the target on your back. Politics thrive on money. The government likes to waste money.  Money rules life. Money is a system in itself. A corrupt system because it’s not always fair and consistent among all people.

The judicial system shows different signs of weakness yet its system hasn’t been updated.

I coach one tangled in this system. Most days it’s unkind. Most days money is factor. Money ties to this service. Money means you can’t have this service. Money or cost means you can’t get something you need. Nobody can fix the system because it’s broken and robotic souls manage the chaos. 

The things I’ve seen in 2022 cause me great pause. Influential leaders covering their own ass at the expense of another. Those making examples of this or that instead of doing what’s right. So many people in general taken advantage of. So many trying to beat the system. The proverbial system. The system that sticks out likd a sore thumb.

I like to think I give enough in life to others to know karma is on my side. What about others? Where do they fall on the spectrum? Has the world changed so much in my 50 years that one’s self preservation rules over what’s right? Does money solve problems or create problems?

Each day I seem to walk through the mud of life. Some days the mud seems to be thick and heavy weighing me down. Some days it’s just annoying like a rainy day puddles in a field causing aggravation but not devastation. And then the days that the mud feels like it’s quicksand in disguise. If you don’t move fast enough you will be sucked in. I’m not alone. Many are on the struggle bus at various stages or phases of life.

Kids

Work

People

Family

Money

Politics

Religion 

These are just some of the the words that form a tangled web in which we must coexist. We live in a technology world much like the Jetsons cartoon yet our systems are still built on the foundations of the Wild West. Crazy but in my eyes it’s true.

I still have much more to write but this rant will be paused here. In the muck of it all. May this post allow you to reflect on you and what you do for others, for self, for the system or even how the system impacts you. Heck it was just 2020 when the system dictated everything for us thanks to corona. Did we learn anything? Did we make adjustments?

adventure

Price is Not Right

2chicksandapen

Oh a few years ago I booked my first flight on Spirit Airlines. It was a treat to say the least. Discount airline means you need to have really low expectations. For this trip I went with the low price deal having no idea how thrifty the experience would be. In the end I vowed never to fly Spirit again and have held true to my word.

However, I had to use Jet Blue recently to get to a destination that carrier frequents on short notice. Cheap was key. My memories of Spirit were tugging on my emotions. Don’t do it my subconscious was saying, but I didn’t listen. I went with the cheap seat as it was just one day in and out. I could pack light.

First email: warning no baggage with this ticket. Just a personal bag like a purse or backpack.

Reminder: no overhead storage with this seat.

Attention: if you have to check a bag it’s a minimum of $65 at the gate.

I have a backpack. I’m packing light. Somehow I think putting my underwear in the bag might cause me to check the bag for $65. I’m seriously having anxiety over the 10 email warnings I’m getting what what I can’t do. Holy cow. Does this leadership team think this wins over customers? For the first time I took out a measuring tape to make sure my backpack fit the dimensions. Insanity.

I can’t wait for the bumpy flight. The no leg room. The lack of snacks. The grouchy people. The overall shitshow I signed myself up for. Why oh why do I torture myself to save a buck? But of course I need to wait. 7:32 pm departure. The time comes and goes.

It’s dead silence on the dark plane while we sit at the gate. Still have a glare from the screen in front of me that I can’t turn off. Just the normal babies crying despite me wearing headphones. I know I said it was quiet, but the babies pierce through with their cries amidst the silence of others. The screen in front of me is all advertisements to pay money for access.  Taunting me during this wait. I wonder how many cave in. Oh, how I miss Delta.

I get an email before I hear an overhead announcement. Take off is now 7:59, but it’s already past 8. The first announcement says we are waiting on bags to be loaded. Okay sounds legit. Or does it? Then I stew on that for a bit since I have time.

15 minutes later, the update is well they are short staffed with laborers to load. It’s taking longer than expected. This is funny. Good thing I still have internet. The guy next to me also has the nervous shakes. One leg goes up and down. Fast. Slower. Super fast. I think it’s nerves but it could be time to go to the bathroom. If he keeps it up I will have to go.

 I almost forgot to mention the poor dad with 2 boys under age 10 who were split up. The dad is in one of the front rows. I’m guessing a six year old is across from me. The other 8 year old is between them. The one closest to me has no headphones. No family. No stacks. I feel for him and the lady next to him who is trying to help him cope. Just heartbreaking. I guess that’s another downside of cheap airfare. You don’t get to sit together unless you pay the fee. 

Just got another email. Another 15 mins are added to take off. I guess the cheap airfare accounts for your time wasted which would then equate to the cost of Delta. I guess I have learned another lesson. Plan ahead to avoid having to choose cheap again. Deadline missed again. 

I will end this post here as it’s about as much negative as I can stand to write about. Well, it’s enough for today anyway. Tomorrow I rant again if I am at the gate for hours.

anonymous letters

Speed Bumps

2chicksandapen

This post is definitely going to fall into the random category. I’m not sure what else I would classify speed bumps under, but for today I’m hoping you enjoy the random topic.

I suppose my speed bump story started about 9 months ago. A random black wire or cord was draped across the road near my home. Clueless me had no idea what it was but it did look like a power line draped across the road. I can’t recall who I mentioned it to but I was informed it was a speed survey. Low and behold there was a small sign the other way down the road that I never would have seen confirming the speed study.

I didn’t care too much about this event as there are plenty who speed down my road but I was just keeping to myself. Then a petition came. It was for approval of speed bumps, speed humps or speed tables. Again didn’t think much about it, but it was approved. There may be 20 houses on my street and only a percentage had to say yes.

Why is this a big deal? Taxes! Those twenty houses pay for the bill of installing and maintenance. Not the four neighborhoods with hundreds of homes that exit onto the street, just the 20 houses. The bill was $35,000.00 and the amount is spread out over time. Not such a big deal but I would have rather had the option to spend my extra money elsewhere. Such is life.

The installation was messy. It took several days this summer. The project was done as far as speed humps but the signage wasn’t up yet alerting drivers. Well, we had a car go in a ditch. We had motorcycles jumping the speed humps. The list goes on and on. The safety concerns created by the installation that was to make the roadway safe. 

A few of my favorite after installation fun facts are:

Everyone avoids the speed humps by driving around them into people’s yards leaving the most horrendous tire tracks. Oh how mad my neighbor was since he just sodded the area that butts up to the road.

The family that asked for the speed bumps is an older couple. They vacation in Florida 8-9 months out of the year. This means they haven’t even been in town to see the mess they created.

And my favorite is the husband and wife duo that holds their hand over horn while going over the speed humps every day. Every trip. Every time they go over the speed bumps. As if this does anything other than annoy the people who live there. 6 am the guy goes to work. How do I know? Every day like clockwork he holds his hand on the horn as my dogs try to enjoy their morning pee session. I shake my head every time thinking how miserable is this person?

Just a random topic. A rant for you to giggle at. An observation post. For some reason I never really thought about speed bumps until they ended up on my street. I didn’t know there was a process for installing them on your street. I didn’t know why humps or bumps or tables were chosen. I just didn’t notice because it never crossed my path or mattered to me.

Hoping safety prevails in the tale of the speed bumps. Hoping a motorcyclist doesn’t crash in my front lawn after jumping the bump. Hoping the guy and his wife picks up a new habit soon of honking their horn elsewhere.

In today’s crazy world I’m just adding the speed bump story to your day for shits and giggles I suppose.

anonymous letters

If then statements

2chicksandapen

Caution: irrational rant ahead.

People make me wonder sometimes.

Actually people make me wonder a lot of the time. Lately, I’ve noticed my mental script is doing more and more of these: a question version of the if / then statements I had to write for proofs in college logic class.

If you cannot pay your rent, then why are you eating out all the time?

If you cannot pay your medical bills, then how do you buy a car (and, with gas prices as they are, drive it anywhere?)

If you cannot afford to pay for your basic memberships, then why do you have a nicer camera than me? Better shoes? The latest fashion?

If you cannot make it to class, then why were you out partying last night (according to your instagram posts)?

I know, I know. Maybe the camera and shoes were gifts. Maybe they’ve made arrangements. Maybe they are down on their luck. Maybe I don’t know the whole story.

Well, surely I don’t know the whole story. I make judgments. Assumptions. Plenty of which are incomplete or even wrong.

Still, it’s frustrating when I see case after case of people falling short in their basic commitments but seeming to spend money on things that, in my world, are “extras.” Is it fun to pay the water bill? The mortgage? Health insurance? Dues payments for commitments I have voluntarily made? No! Is it fun to have to get up and go to class or work the day after a party, a holiday, a late night big game? No! Of course I’d rather sleep in, ignore my bills, take the day off, go on vacation, not spend hours meal prepping on the weekend and just go out to eat instead. Who wouldn’t?

It’s hard to quiet those murmuring voices in my head. It’s hard to keep my mouth shut when I know too much. It’s hard to be sympathetic when I feel like I am being mostly responsible with my time, my resources, my finances. I try to make sure the “have tos” are covered before the “want tos” make it in the mix. I feel like more and more people have those things reversed. They feel they deserve some “want tos” when the “have tos” haven’t even been dealt with. What makes some people feel that is ok while others buckle down and make sure things are taken care of? And in my world, that leads to the shit spewing that I mentioned in recent posts….

I know it’s more complicated than all that but still, it’s frustrating. Maybe one of our readers can share their wisdom.

Until then, just another rant from my side of the keyboard.