Striving For Perfection As Imperfect Beings. Or, In Other Words, We’ll Always Do Dumb Things

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Sleep; Why Hast Thou Forsaken Me?

Have you ever been prescribed sleeping pills?  They work marvelously for the first few days, when you don’t have any obligations, then as soon as it’s the night before your first day back to work in 2015 you could swear that it’s a tiny white round piece of chalk?  That’s where I’m at.  I think I need them to work so badly so I can actually show up refreshed and able to function at work that I’ve intimidated them into not working at all.

I’ve been 3+ months without sleep since losing my father in 2014.  I toiled with this decision since I have researched how addictive they can be but I decided that I couldn’t go on being an exposed bundle of nerves in public, I didn’t want to share that with everyone outside of my front door.  So I saw my doctor over the holidays, presented a very well thought out diatribe that if I could get a few weeks of sleep into me it should alleviate my growing anxiety, weepiness, and more than likely get my body back into the routine of sleeping.

The first 2 nights I took them over the holidays was pure, almost instantaneous bliss.  I could see why people would become addicted to these pills…you’ve slept once in your life right?  Can we all agree that it’s amazing?

But…the sunday night before my first monday back…I pop a pill and………….nothing.  No glorious wave of nirvana sweeping my hyperactive thoughts into a sea of slumber, no satisfaction of the Sandman gently guiding me to a plush void of sleep, nothing but the nerve-wracking realization that I am back to square one.

This has been my continuity all week thus far.  I don’t know what I did to anger the rewarder of sleep but I will do ANYTHING to fix it, not taking more than one pill mind you, so almost anything.

My 2015 words are simple and pleading.  If you ever have a visit from that illusive mistress they call sleep, could you call me and I’ll be right over?  Never let her go, I miss her.  She’s the only woman I will ever sleep with and I want her to know that I’ll do (almost) anything to get her back.

Attracting the Idiots

With a 3 day work week steadily working its way down to lazy holiday time I’m finding that not even the horde of idiots that I commute with everyday are managing to keep me angry for longer than a few minutes.  That being said, they sure are still trying.

I have successfully managed to have 3 people walk right into me in the past 3 hours.  And I don’t mean they couldn’t get far enough over since there’s a crowd that they’re working with, I mean a full, head on collision just because they feel entitled to my space.  I should mention that I’m not a totally miserable person that I just railroad people when I walk, especially since I’m only 5ft 4in and I get run into a lot and, usually, without so much as a sorry from the party charging into me.

The first idiot decided to take me on in the middle of the street in the cross walk zone.  Little do people know, that I am an immovable object.  I look like the path of least resistance in crowd but I move through it like a tank.  I have people on my right, there’s no one on my left.  I can’t comprehend why I have to change my trajectory when all she has to do is inch over a step or 2 and we’ve avoided contact.  Alas this is not to happen.  I make full eye contact with her so she can see the “You better get the fuck outta my way” look in my eyes.  She looks down on me from her 6ft stance, holds my gaze, and doesn’t move.  Fine, it’s on you dumbass.  She comes in for full frontal contact and loses.  Down she goes in the middle of the cross walk.  All that I do for her is mutter “Get the fuck outta the way next time asshat.” just loudly enough for her ears only and I carry on my way.  Let’s all share the space people, it’s not that hard.

The next winner is a colleague.  Now, in my office, we even have safety moments about making sure to be courteous and letting people off of the elevator before you try to get on.  I can’t even put into words how much I think this is the most stupid topic that has to be broached in a place where you will only find adults working and ‘functioning’.  Do we get into a group and revert back to selfish children?  In my office we do.  They even eat food out of labeled and personal containers, but that’s to be talked about at another time.  I’m the only person in the elevator, it dings at my floor, the doors open, and some idiot is right in my face.  He apologizes but then DOESN’T BACK UP OUT OF THE DOORS SO I CAN GET BY.  Why the fuck the apology then you waste of space?  I must say that this interaction made me have a flashback to my teens, in the bar, dancing/signing along to Ludacris’s ever popular song “Move Bitch, Get Out The Way”.  I bit my tongue to not mutter that they were also an asshole like that first douchebag since work pays me to be professional, this ignoramus has seem to forgotten that, but I’m obviously the better person here. Obviously.

Next, I’m heading to grab a hot beverage with a coworker, we’re both cute, little, women in the big, scary downtown district.  We’re trying to navigate through the covered pedway when this hulking ‘gentleman’ decides to hug the wall that we’re walking along.  Now these pedways are probably built for 7-8 people wide to walk, this doesn’t mean that you should do that though because you have to account for the oncoming people; if you’re not a complete dickbag that is.  This dude is totally a dickbag, 100% certified.  There is no where else for me to go as my friend is right next to me and the wall is next to her and dickbag is barreling down on my current occupied space.  Well he was quite shocked that it wasn’t he whom body checked me but the other way around.  This idiot didn’t fall but managed at least a 180 and a dirty look, which made me flash a brilliant smile right back at him since I felt justified and that he was in the wrong.  My coworker tells me that I must be a magnet for this people today since I’ve already conveyed to her about the first 2 losers.

I just want people to be courteous and aware of their surroundings.  When you wake up in the morning and discover that you are the last human being in your city, then roam wherever you so please, but until then stay out of my space or I will run you over.  I don’t intimidate, get your shit together idiots.

The “What Can You Do For Me?” Spirit of Christmas

I went with my work team, yesterday, to a charitable organization.  We were ‘volunteering’ to assist in sorting donations and pack stocking stuffers for the persons in need that this charity supports.  Sounds like a lovely way to give back to the community and give the ol’ Christmas Spirit a boost doesn’t it?  You’d be right, except for the fact that we have to bribe people at our work to volunteer by saying there is a company paid booze and bite afterward.  I absolutely cannot get past the point that we, the fortunate, NEED validation and in excess, to show support and compassion to those less fortunate around us.

I’m not saying that we have to carry around a pound of change for the gentleman that’s always on the street corner when the lunch time or home rush is blowing by him.  He knows his target audience and works them just like any good salesman.  I’m talking about the husband who makes just enough to pay the rent, his wife makes just enough for the groceries, and they both get ulcers the closer Christmas gets because they can’t afford the ‘extras’ such as a Christmas Tree and decorations for it so they can give their kids a ‘normal’ Christmas experience.  The gifts this family gives/gets are thoughtful but small.  And yet here I sit, in meetings with safety moments about hanging your Christmas lights on your house and ultimately everyone agrees that paying a ‘professional’ $600 to do it is the best and safest option. There are many proverbial pats on the back of this ingenuity and a figurative face palm that I give to myself because I cannot comprehend how you would explain to these braying donkeys that you could do it yourself, safely if you paid attention to the task at hand, and donate $600 that you so obviously don’t need to someone who does.

So there I sat, with my team, shoving food in face and pouring alcoholic beverages down my throat while they all say how good it felt to help someone else.  I sat there and felt like a fraud.  How selfish of me to only help someone out if it’s a company sponsored event afterward.

A volunteer is defined as: a person who does some act or enters into a transaction without being under any legal obligation to do so and without being promised any remuneration for his services. 

Well there I was enjoying my promised remunerations, libations, and potations all because I said that I could take 2 hours out of my day to sort some donated gifts for someone who cannot afford those items regularly.  Look at how much I deserved to be applauded.  All in all I feel as though I’ve not only let myself down but also those who actually would appreciate my help.

The festivities took such a frenzied turn that I left when the shots came out, at 530pm…on a Tuesday…there are some team members missing today…but not because they have a volunteer hangover, but because of the excess we feel entitled too.  Because of what the act of volunteering at work can really do for you; a night out of free food, booze, and it’s all you can drink.  My company calls this team building. I ask why wasn’t the act of donating our time enough of a team building exercise?  You’re never really sure who comes out to actually help or for the promise of drinks after.

I’m by no means standing on a soapbox here and I’d probably have a leg to stand on if I didn’t also join in on the ‘celebration’ afterwards, but it’s the hindsight that gets under my skin the most.  I could have gone home after leaving the charity and just felt wonderful about helping someone who has less than I do.  But the ‘team building’ beckoned and I felt the unspoken pressure of being able to rub elbows and clink glasses with the higher-ups in our group, to be present, to be counted, to feel hollow and alone in a group of people who would never help someone less fortunate on their own time.  I thought I was better than this…next time I will be…I hope.

My hope for myself this Christmas is to truly give without expecting.  To remember to give of my time, money, and self to those who have a need without wondering what they are going to do for me in return.  All my needs as well as my wants are more than taken care of, let me be able to help someone else experience this relief as well, no strings attached.

First Time Blogger, Long Time Bystander

Ever just watch the world and think, “WTF is wrong with people?”.  My daily interactions are making me want to become a hermit.  Mostly attributed, lately, to having people not know how to speak to someone regarding grief.  On one hand I’m glad that people are so ignorant to grief because that means that they’ve never had to suffer through losing someone, but on the other hand, it can be the most overwhelming interface during a work day that most people experiencing grief would rather have avoided at all costs.

I lost my Father, a smidge over 2 months ago.  I’ve had an agonizing re-entry back into the wonderful world of work, mostly due to the fact that my coworkers feel like a pep talk will ‘snap me out of my funk’.  To these ‘well meaning’ people I’d like to proffer some advice; Go Fuck Yourself.  Grief is not someone simply having a ‘bad day’, grief is someone who has been pushed into a terrible circumstance of loss and they now have to learn to adapt to the fact that their loved one will never answer the phone when there is news to be shared albeit good or bad, never be able to offer advice on life decisions, or be there to make up with after an argument.  It is a deafening finality that blasts loudly in the subconscious of us left behind and oozes into our reality.  It takes tremendous effort to get out of bed in the morning and try to function normally, you want to scream at the world as to how dare it continue to turn without this person who has been the cornerstone of your family.

That being said, if you find that you are talking to someone who is currently experiencing a loss and dealing with grief, do everyone involved a favor and offer sympathy and change the subject.  I’ve ran into people that believed having a dead parent talk off was being helpful; ‘well I’ve lost both of mine now, one suddenly and one over time due to a fatal illness and I don’t know which is worse.’.  This conversation is (the worst) you dick. This is like telling the person that you don’t really care what they’re going through or their experience, this is a classic ‘one-up’ and one sided ‘conversation’.  How someone felt this was helping I will never be able to fathom.

I’ve also encountered people thinking that I should keep busy.  Well again, that’s your opinion on what I’m currently going through and I give zero fucks about what works for you right now.  This is overwhelming and makes me feel like there’s something wrong with me that I have no drive to do anything besides sit in my flannel jammies, on my couch, and shove food into my face hole.  Guess what?  There’s nothing wrong with me wanting to marinate on my couch.  There’s also nothing wrong with getting out and staying busy (if that’s what works for you).  It’s your grief, work through it by what works for you, not by piling on more guilt from other people who have no idea what you’re going through and, for some reason, feel that you can’t think your way out of a shoebox.  Pretty sure you got yourself out of bed, out of the house, and are trying to be a contributing member of society.  Look at you go!  That takes a lot of effort and if people don’t know that, give them a wide berth.  You are entitled to have bad days, own those hurts, and cry or wail like a howler monkey if you so choose to.

I’m so excited for Christmas holidays.  To not have to shoulder anxiety about getting out of bed and interacting with people that I don’t care about regarding things that I’ve lost interest in.  To have the time and space to really delve deep into my loss, yes, I’m actually looking forward to that.  I’m looking forward to coming out on the other side, refreshed and ready to face reality again in 2015.  I’m also pumped to have 2 weeks to shove food into my face.  I may eat my feelings, but they are delicious and nobody but me is paying for my food bills.