Let’s do the time hop again…

 

I know, I know: It’s Time WARP, but I didn’t want to give you false hopes that this would be a Rocky Horror-themed blog post.

It looks like my last post was November 2016.  This is exactly 19 months later.  Yikes!  Let’s pretend like there was a dramatic time hop from then to now.

I’m still loving my job and the people I work with.   I admit that sometimes certain behaviors get on my nerves, but it doesn’t bother me enough to be miserable or to come home and complain to my husband.  In the past, if someone was annoying, disrespectful, or bitchy to me, my frustration would grow and become its own entity,  I remember coming home every night to tell my husband yet another story of how I had been mistreated by X or Y.  He would attentively listen, agreeing that X was a total bitch and that what she had done was borderline abusive, that Y was treating me unfairly, etc.    Now, I come home and tell him funny stories about the quirky set of characters I’m surrounded by.

As I said, it’s not always wonderful in my current situation, but the less-than-fun bits don’t get me down anymore.  I owe this turnaround, in part, to a new attitude.

In my last job, I would keep a log of the more egregious abuses from X in a file called ‘Old Dog’ (as in, the kind you can’t teach new tricks to…and the double meaning of bitch).  It was a form of therapy to get it all out and it served as a record that I thought I may need later.  That, combined with telling everyone that would listen about it, or swapping war stories with other coworkers, caused the negativity to swell and cycle and become something that couldn’t be escaped.

Maybe it’s age? Maybe it’s a heightened empathy?  Maybe it’s circumstantial after the less-than-stellar year we have had so far (see below)?  Now, I find myself brushing-off the nonsense.  When one coworker bitches about another (or another, or another…), I listen, but I don’t feed it or let it ruin my experience.  When a coworker treats me like a child or says something offensive, I know that it is her own insecurities that cause her to act that way, so I don’t give it the weight that I would have in the past.  Someone will say: “How can you stand working with Z? She is so _____!”  I simply say “I’ve worked with many Z’s in my life. I know how they operate and how to deal with them.”  You truly can’t teach an old dog new tricks, so stop trying.  They upset you with unkind words or looks?   They inconvenienced you for 15 minutes?  Let it go.  It doesn’t matter.

In the grand scheme of things:  IT.  DOESN’T.  MATTER.

This is definitely personal growth, and I’m happy to be able to recognize and acknowledge that.

I’m not saying that one should not defend oneself, or to let people walk all over you.  I am saying that, in this day and age, in this culture of self martyrdom and publicizing your victimization to get attention (we all have a friend or two on social media that consistently posts an attention-seeking/pity-me/I’ve been wronged update), it is easy to fall into the trap of letting our small inconveniences turn into monsters that eat away at our lives.

On those circumstances I alluded to above:

Donald Trump is still President, and every day some new dystopian degradation is announced.  It’s wearing me down to the point where I don’t read or listen to the news anymore.  The LGBTQ rights that my own family members (Trump supporters) told me not to worry about, because “they can’t take that away from you” that are being taken away, and the way innocent children are treated like animals is just too much to deal with.

2018 started for us with one of the hardest decisions we have ever had to make.  We put our dog of 13 years, our companion, our Little Love, to sleep.  He was suffering from dementia, bladder issues, a heart murmur, glaucoma, and a myriad of small problems.  He had his good days when he acted like a puppy, not a senior dog, and he had many terrible nights.  We scheduled and postponed the appointment twice, but finally we knew that it was best for all of us to end his suffering before it became unbearable.  Our hearts were torn into pieces, and though it is easier today, we still feel an ache and a hole in our lives.

Shortly after that, my mother-in-law went into the hospital for some major surgeries.  My husband’s family lives 1100 miles away, so it was stressful for us to be getting updates, but not be able to be there.  My husband flew down there to be with his Mom before and after her surgeries.  This saga is not over, as she is currently in the hospital right now undergoing more procedures.  Without a doubt, her conditions are made worse by the next bit:

While that was going on, an estranged family member emerged.  She had been unconscious in a hospital for almost a week before we were told.  She had been dropped-off by her addict friends with MRSA in her spine, a second blood infection, and fluid in her lungs.  She required and received open-heart surgery, lung draining, and aggressive multiple antibiotic treatments.  Again, my husband flew down to be there.  She continues to check herself out and then back into the hospitals with worsening ailments, but it is only a matter of time before she is finally free of her pain. They will not operate on her again.

We lost a dear family friend who lived life to the fullest. Cancer ate through him in 3 weeks.

While my husband was out of state dealing with his ailing family, I drove down to see my mother, who is living in a memory care assisted living facility.  She had to be moved to a higher level of care (locked/coded floors and elevators to stop wandering, with more nurses).  I took her out for the day: blood drawn, lunch, shopping, mall walking, driving around – while my brothers moved everything from one floor to the next.  The Alzheimer’s made it seem to her that nothing had changed.  She walked into the new room -a mirror image of the old one – as if it were the same.  It was the plan, but it was heartbreaking.

Another family member gave us devastating news about his health, then became unemployed and unable to pay for his treatment.

My husband had a few episodes of ‘global amnesia’ that scared us both.  Multiple doctors and scans say that nothing is wrong, and that it must have been stress-induced (see above).

I developed kidney pain that specialists conclude I have to live with until it goes away in months or a year. Fun!

With medical bills, flights to visit sick family, and a vacation the we desperately needed, we are pretty maxed-out on credit cards.  We are working to fix that, but this was one more stress we didn’t count on.

So…although now this looks like the ‘poor me’ posts I talked about earlier, it’s really just a sample of what has built the foundation and watermark for how we deal with small inconveniences in our day-to-day lives…

In the grand scheme of things: it doesn’t matter.

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