Archives for category: Frustration

It’s the day of Winter Solstice. Happy Solstice.

I woke during the night, and it was the strangest thing. I turned over, and the vertigo that washed over me woke me abruptly. I thought it was near time to wake up anyway, so I laid still and quiet, and quite straight and flat on my back, waiting for the vertigo to pass. Once it did, which seemed rather a long while later, awake in the darkness, I checked the time. 02:55. Definitely not time to get up. I made myself more comfortable and went back to sleep. There was a Billy Joel song stuck in my head, which seemed peculiar enough to wonder why, as I drifted off to sleep.

I woke again later, properly time to get up and head for the trail. My vertigo spun my senses as I tried to orient myself. Damn it, why now? It passes and I sit up, aware of the intensity of the pain in my neck and back. Rough. I’m feeling pretty fucking mortal this morning and find myself worrying about making things as easy as possible on my Traveling Partner should my mortality catch up with me unexpectedly… Time to focus on paying off debts and fattening up savings and having things properly in order… But… For fucks sake isn’t it always time for those things? I sigh quietly and get up. I’ve got shit to do, and the morning begins here, now.

My day begins in earnest with the kitchen sink backing up first thing. What the absolute fuck?! Are you kidding me with this shit?! I snarl quietly to myself, aggravated with someone’s carelessness. Eggshells jammed into the drain, but not down into the disposal, and the strainer cup placed over those, so it wasn’t evident that they were there. Of course they didn’t go through the disposal that way. G’damn it. I try so hard to be quiet in the morning but I definitely can’t walk away with the fucking sink backed up. I roll up my sleeves and clear the clog. So gross. First fucking thing in the morning, too; I’m barely fucking awake and I’m not ready for this bullshit. Fixed. I wash my hands and head out, still annoyed.

The drive to the trailhead is quiet and pleasant. By the time I get parked I’m over being mad about the sink, but I definitely wish the Anxious Adventurer would take a little more basic care moment to moment, particularly in the fucking kitchen and in the shop. That kind of careless bullshit gets shit broken, or gets people hurt, or creates risk of injury or food-born illness. It’s too easy to get it right. It irritates me that he makes extra work for me so often. (I know he doesn’t mean to.) I sigh quietly. It begins to rain. My tinnitus is loud in my ears. My neck and back ache ferociously, a column of pain rising from my waist to the base of my skull. Fuck pain. I don’t feel much like walking in a drizzle in the pre-dawn darkness, uncertain whether my vertigo may flare up again, so I meditate, and write a bit, and wait for a break in the rain.

I’ve a couple errands to run for my Traveling Partner this morning, and think about stopping in town for a quiet coffee and a visit to the art supply store… No reason, really, it just sounds fun and satisfying. It’s a nice day to do something for myself, too.

The rain continues to fall. I listen to the raindrops on the car roof and sit quietly with my thoughts until it’s time to begin again.

Mid-morning. I pause work for a break. I refresh my coffee (by pouring cold brew over the ice left from my iced espresso this morning). I breathe, exhale, relax… and re-set. Strange busy morning. I woke early, waited through a moment of intense vertigo. Breathed through some intense early morning back pain. Got my shit together and left for work – and my walk. I kept my walk short and careful in the pre-dawn darkness; the vertigo always spooks me a little bit, and I felt insecure out on the trail away from help if I fell. I headed on in to the office… which was… locked. Weird. Not just, you know, locked in the usual way requiring me to use an app to validate my access and unlock the door for me, nope, it was properly locked with the physical deadbolt. Super weird. I couldn’t get in.

I sat down on the hallway floor by the door, switched to the work profile on my smart phone and alerted my team that I was not able to get into the office, and therefore also not able to log into my computer (I’d left my laptop set up overnight, a rare – and in this instance unfortunate – luxury). Shit. Well, no super early calls, and I could access the team chat and my email from my device. All good. I messaged the co-work space management about the locked door, and hoped that some other early bird with access to the side door might happen along (it has a numerical keypad, for which I don’t personally have a code – never needed one). No such luck; the last Friday before a mid-week Giftmas holiday? Lots of folks are working shorter hours, coming in later, leaving earlier, enjoying the season.

Eventually I lucked out; the co-work space owner responded to me on Slack. She tried to unlock the door remotely, but of course, that deadbolt was the problem. New cleaning crew, apprently. lol We had a laugh, before she gave me a code to access the side door. I headed to my desk and logged in for my next call – on time. Nice. Since then, the day has felt rushed but routine, and I’m fine. No meltdown. No particular stress over it. No harm done. I, too, am enjoying things a little easier, and didn’t really need to be in so early. I lost my “slack time” for reading the news, or writing for a moment, but quickly caught up on the work details, until this later moment – when I often fail myself during the day by not taking a break. So, I’m taking the break I know I need. 😀

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a good day in spite of the oddball moments and unexpected circumstances. I’m fine. It’s a cloudy gray morning. Tomorrow is the Solstice. Today is Friday. It’s all fine. I’m okay for all identifiable definitions of “okay” in this moment right here, now, and it’s enough.

I sip my coffee and get ready to begin again.

Another quiet morning. Another day closer to the Solstice and to Giftmas and to a new year. Another moment to reflect and breathe and be. Another moment of this very human experience. Another moment to choose and to act and to accept the consequences. I sip my coffee, iced, black. I feel calm, and little chilly; the office is not particularly warm, nonetheless I’m grateful for the quiet calm space.

It was raining too hard for a walk this morning, and when I arrived at the trailhead the small parking lot outside the gate was filled by several battered old RVs (clearly dwellings) and trash newly strewn about. I didn’t feel comfortable staying, so I drove on into the office. I know the park staff will clear those folks out after the day begins; there’s no camping permitted there, and they’re quite strict about it. As I drove away, I felt a familiar concern and compassion – where will those people go? Why are they having to live that way? What the hell do we do about the problem of homelessness? I can’t help thinking that generally speaking, it is a problem that ought not exist at all, but I’m aware that life has become so incredibly costly (rent, bills, medical care, groceries, connectivity, education…) that more than a few people end up literally unable to afford the expenses of a completely ordinary American life. My mind pauses on that healthcare CEO who was shot in the streets; people are angry, and healthcare is stupidly expensive (and not very good quality in many cases), and it’s not the patients causing that.

Some of life’s problems are damned difficult to figure out. Sometimes the solutions are obvious, but there is a profound reluctance to pay the price to solve the problem. Messy. Adulting is hard.

I remember a conversation with my father when I was a ‘tween…

Me: That seems so unfair!
Dad: The world isn’t fair.
Me: Why isn’t the world fair, though?
Dad: That’s not the right question to ask.
Me: I don’t understand – shouldn’t we be trying to make the world more fair?
Dad: You’re being naive. You’ll understand when you’re older.

Funny… I still don’t understand why we aren’t all working together to make the world more fair. I’m definitely older.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The office is quiet and comfortable. I’ve got a routine day of work ahead. I’d rather be painting, but there’s a price to pay to live the life I do, and it’s the work ahead of me that pays for it. I sip my coffee, and enjoy this few early minutes of solitude and reflection. Being chilly is a distraction, but the thermostate is locked and I can’t change the settings. There’s a metaphor there, isn’t there? We may have an idea of a solution to a real life problem – but we may be “locked out” of making the change we think is required. That’s something to think about. Be compassionate; you don’t know what other people may be going through, or what limitations and hurdles they have to face just to survive. It’s cheap to be kind.

I stare at my iced coffee with a frown. I chose poorly. Hot coffee would have been a better choice. I laugh at myself in the quiet – humans being human; sometimes even when we have the information to make a wise choice, we choose poorly. There are consequences.

It’s time to begin again.

I don’t know what to write about today. This is as close as I ever really get to “writer’s block” – starting with a “blank mind” instead of merely a blank page. lol

It’s nearly noon, and I’m taking a break for “lunch”, though I’m not hungry and don’t plan to eat. I’ve got this (fairly dreadful) iced coffee, and a few minutes of sunshine, and a quiet little room to myself, suited to making room for a bit of writing in the middle of the day. I just don’t really have anything much to say, presently. Nothing I think is worth committing to any measure of permanence. I’m tired. My head aches. The world is burning. Petty nitwits seem to be running everything – and somehow, they were actually elected by real people. What the fuck? Looks like that’s only going to get worse over the next couple years, too. American healthcare is so disastrously bad that ordinary people are shooting health insurance company executives in the streets. A population once nearly wiped out by genocide engages in obvious genocide, and when accused of committing genocide seems to think “no we’re not” is an adequate response, while the bodies pile up. Corporate greed drives AI start-ups to completely disregard the basic humanity of human beings, providing “chatbot companions” to vulnerable young people (for profit) with predictably terrible consequences – but, you know, they made money on that. None of this is good. 100% of all of it was avoidable. Choices were made.

Human greed. Human pettiness. Human self-righteousness. Human douche-baggery. Human violence. Fucking hell, some days it definitely looks like the underlying problem is… humanity. I’m pretty sure we could do better.

I don’t really want to be thinking about any of that terrible shit, particularly with this headache. Fuck. I’d rather cozy up with a book, or nap in a sunny room, or putter in my garden (those roses definitely need pruning, and I’m past due to winterize my raised bed). What the fuck is wrong with people?? When did being rich or “right” become more important than being a good human being and building a world in which everyone can thrive? Why are so many people fighting to grab a bigger piece of pie, instead of baking a bigger fucking pie? I don’t get it…

I sip my terrible coffee, grateful to have it. I can easily imagine a day in a not-very-distant future when coffee may not be available at all – or only to the very wealthy few. I’m not one of those. I sigh to myself. I’m okay. I’m fortunate in spite of the pain I’m in. I hold on to that, and look out the window, thinking about love, and life, and what matters most. No doubt there is righteous satisfaction in embracing my anger, but it won’t feel as good as gentle words, and thoughts of love, and being kind in a world where kindness has grown so rare. I’m tired. I’m just one human primate with limited ability and knowledge. I can’t be everything to everyone, ever – but I can be the best version of myself that I’ve learned to be, and I can do my best to do better today, and again tomorrow. Yeah, I’m pretty fucking human, myself, prone to temper and misunderstandings, and moments of foolishness. My results vary.

…I keep practicing…

So, I take my break. Exchange some pleasant words with my beloved Traveling Partner. I do what I can to ease this fucking headache, and look forward to seeing the one doctor I’ve got that reliably provides me with any relief at all – Saturday. That’s soon. I look out the window for a few minutes, watching a crow on a branch in the tree beyond watching me back. So much pain… in my head, in my back…in the world. Shit. I guess I’ve just got to do my best.

…Time to begin again…

It’s another icy morning. The fog is dense on the highway, and denser still on the trail, where it dips low towards the marsh and the river. Frosty ground is slick beneath my boots and branches and grasses sparkle white as my light passes over them. I’m thinking about hot coffee, grateful for warm gloves.

I won’t sit long at my halfway point. It’s too cold to write comfortably, and the fog obscures the view. It’s a work day, too, and timing matters.

I’m in a bad mood this morning. My Traveling Partner started my day with his annoyance over some small thing, and I didn’t need that on top of my tinnitus screeching in my ear and this fucking headache, and my arthritis. I keep trying to push past it. Move on. Let it go. It wasn’t my annoyance, after all. Pain sucks, though, and I’m cross about dealing with it. I’m hoping for a relaxed routine work day after a lovely holiday weekend.

I yawn in the cold morning air and see my breath mingle with the fog. It’s time to walk on. It’s time to start the day. It’s time to let small shit stay small and not take other people’s bullshit personally. It’s time to begin again.