It Is What It Is

Let me start this off by saying that I'm sorry. I didn't mean for yesterday's entry to be so depressing. Well, that's not entirely honest. It's true that I was feeling that way yesterday, and I often do feel like that. But, I'm sorry to have dragged you down with me. I am a very emotional person, if you couldn't tell. Some days I feel so happy I could fly, and then there were days like yesterday. I think it all depends on how much sleep I get, and, as you know, that isn't something I achieve quite regularly. I debated about erasing the entry but then decided that wasn't something I wanted to do. For, no matter how embarrassed I am about something I have written, it was the truth. If I can't be brutally honest with myself, who can I be honest with? So, it shall remain.

I always knew writing out my feelings would tame whatever emotional upheaval was going on within me. I haven't done it for a long time though. Writing by hand is torture for me. I write very slowly, gripping the pen as tight as I can, until my hand burns like fire and becomes a deformed claw. If I try to continue my hand begins to shake, rendering the letters I'm trying to write virtually unrecognizable. So, until now, I've laid aside the written word choosing instead to keep my feelings bottled up inside of me. It hasn't been the best trade-off, which is why I decided to start this particular blog.

Good or bad, pretty or ugly, these are my words.

A Life Unfulfilled

(A note before this post: I'm not exactly as miserable as this post is going to make me out to be. But, I want to be as brutally honest about my feelings as I feel them. So, if you don't want to be bummed out, don't read. It's a bit of a downer.)

Ah, yes. It's that old feeling again. I can't exactly put a name on it, but I suppose angst, longing, unhappiness, unfulfillment, or dissatisfaction would come close to an apt description. I often wonder how I got here. What turn should I have taken and when should I have taken it? What could I have done differently?

Most times I am perfectly happy with my life as it stands. I love my husband and daughter. I have family close by. It's not perfect, but things are pretty good.

But, always in the back of my mind is the thought that I'm meant to have a different life. I am not supposed to live here, work at the job that I do, live the life I live. I wake up every morning with the knowledge that time is moving way too fast, and I feel that there is something more for me out there. But, what? And, that's the question I cannot answer. I do not know.

When I was younger, I had a pretty clear idea of what I wanted out of life. I knew that I was going to leave North Dakota, get a job at a magazine or a publishing company, make good money, and marry my best friend (whoever that would be). I would final travel to Italy, make photography my hobby, and own my dream home. Dreams. How simple life seems when it's viewed from an 18-year old's perspective. Sadly, that's all they remain: dreams.

Reality can be harsh. It will silently bear down on you with the force of an 18-wheeler, hitting you when you're weakest, and throwing you to the side of the road. You were prepared enough to have your proverbial seatbelt fastened, but your airbag has exploded in your face as a final insult to let you know that unhappiness will hit you when you least expect it. And, there you are bruised and sore, but essentially unhurt. You move on with life as it is, but the bruises are a reminder that somewhere along the road, you were blown off track, and you may not be as content as you thought you were.

I know I shouldn't complain. As things go, I've got a good life. I have family, friends, a roof over my head, food to eat, my health. I should want for nothing as I have more than many do. I am human, though, and more than a touch selfish. I want more. I want the days where I laughed freely and often, when I woke up in the morning and looked foward to the day instead of dreading it, when I had people I could confide in, when I felt worthy of something. Each day passes a bit too similar to the day before, and I now find myself lost in time, knowing the date on the calendar but not knowing where I am, timewise, in my life. I'm lost, and there is no map I can consult to find out where I should be.

I guess I'm just tired. I'm tired of the obligation of going to work instead of the desire. I'm tired of forced, banal, everyday chit-chat instead of a real, in-depth conversation. I'm tired of faking chuckles to sub-par humor instead of laughing gigantic belly laughs to something I truly find funny. I'm tired of putting on a happy face to life as it is instead of smiling with joy due to a life of complete satisfaction. I'm tired of existing instead of living. I want nothing more to be happy, truly happy.

Oh, who am I to whine and complain anyhow? I shouldn't. Perhaps I need to reverse my thinking and enjoy what I truly do have. I can do that. Right? Honestly, I don't know. I've never been a cup's half-full kind of person. I'm a cynic and a skeptic. If I was into new-age philosophy, I would only have to look inside myself to find happiness. Sure, sure. The thing I've been looking for has been in front of me all along, look no farther than your own front door, and all that crap. Sorry, but that's not me.

And, so it goes...

I believe the future is nothing but a pile of clay. You can manipulate into what form you want it to take and change it as you go. Be careful before deciding on its final incarnation, though. It may not turn out to be the result you were hoping to achieve, and you'll be left with nothing but an misshapen bowl waiting to be filled with regret.

OK Computer

I hate dealing with computer problems. I'm happy when they work and quite unhappy when they don't. Simple enough.

Now, I'm not out to bash IT people or people who work in the computer industry. This isn't some broad bitch against the technology industry in the slightest. No, this will be directed to one certain computer salesperson. Although they will not read this, I will not mention any names. This is not to protect the innocent. No, I won't call anyone out, because although I may be bitter, I feel it's in my best interest to keep people nameless. And, I like keeping my interest best.

A few months ago our out-of-house computer salesperson/IT guy left the state. I understand his reasoning and hold no ill-will towards him. But, he left us in a bit of a lurch. He did let us know, however, that although he wouldn't be here for the hands-on stuff, he would recommend a company that he trusted. Fair enough. Not too long after that, a salesperson from the company came to visit our office, introduced himself, explained the company philosophy, blah, blah. Basically just came to grease the wheels. Put in a good word. He's here for us, call with any problems, etc. Whatever. You get the drift. He handed out his company card and was on his way. Now, I may not have the greatest judgement all the time, but I have a fairly decent bullshit monitor. Something about him irked me.

The first sign of trouble was when my DVD burner went to hell. I called our trusty salesperson about said problem. He said he would be right on it and would order me a new one stat. It arrived a couple of days later. I was impressed, until I tried to install it. Technologically, I'm an idiot, but I'm smart enough to know when a certain connection will not work. I get the whole male/female idea in connections, and these two were not compatible mates. Nope, no love connection here. After staring at this for awhile and deciding that it wasn't going to be a go, I called my trusty salesperson and explained my problem. He let me know that he would order a different burner with the correct connections (always a fine idea) and come to Elliott to install it himself. Super.

The next day he was out here to do the old switcheroo. After confirming that, indeed, the first burner he sent me wouldn't work and I wasn't just a moron putting him on, he proceeded with the work. He removed the old burner, then began installing the new one. Before he installed it though, he tried to change the faceplate from black to beige (the color of my computer). That was a no-go however, and I stopped him before he ended up breaking it, stating I didn't care about the color.

Next, installation. Along the way, he stripped and broke off one of the tiny screws that would hold the burner in place. A grimace must have flashed across my face because he told me it happens all the time, no big deal. O-kay. After he was done with that, he chit-chatted for awhile. It was mostly the usual business/superficial personal stuff. But, he did let us in on some really personal information about himself that I didn't really regard as appropriate business conversation. But, maybe he thought we really needed to know. Hard to say. Anyhow, installation complete, and he was out the door with wink and a smile. My dander was up.

After that incident, he was in from time to time, working on different problems. Then, last week arrived. I had received an email from him on Thursday saying he'd be in on Friday to install a patch on everyone's computers. And, he arrived exactly when he said he would. The time he spent on each computer was pretty minimal. Painless even. Before leaving, he mentioned to us that three of our computers would need updating sometime because our operating systems were out-of-date. Fine, that may be true. Then, he was off without truly explaining what this patch does and if we would encounter any problems with it. I've seen enough movies dealing with foreshadowing to know that this wasn't a good sign.

True to a Hitchcock movie, the foreshadowing came true. Saturday, I received a call at home from another employee from our Forman location. He could not log onto his computer, and he wasn't happy about it. After a brief conversation I decided that I was not able to help him, so he was willing to wait until Monday. He mentioned that he had left a choice voicemail with our trusty salesperson in the meantime. Good.

On Monday, I checked to see if above employee was able to get ahold of our trusty salesperson. He had, and his computer was now functioning. Actually, all the computers at that location needed a little tweaking to function. But, they were "fixed". Everyone else's computers seemed to be fine. That is until Tuesday, when an employee here in Elliott found out that he couldn't log onto his laptop. It had worked fine the day before, but when he took it offsite it wouldn't let him on. A call from him was put into our trusty salesperson, who promptly told him that since he was not in the office, he couldn't help him through it. He instructed our employee to call our Forman office and talk to the bookkeeper there who had the instructions to fix the problem. He did, they worked on it for a loooong time, and they eventually fixed it, although not exactly with the precise directions left by our trusty salesperson. Tweaking at its finest.

Now, this is where my already ruffled dander becomes a full-on irritation. EXCUSE ME, but you are the trusted professional who installed this so-called wonder patch. Shouldn't you have some idea of how to deal with it when it goes awry? I was told that he's just the salesperson, he shouldn't have to fix the technical problems. Oh, really? As a old boyfriend used to say, I call bullshit. If you have the supposed know-how to install the freaking thing, you should know how to deal with the problems that arise from the installation. And, then instead of offering to have one of the technicians at his company call our employee to help him out, he instead sloughs off the work to another of OUR employees. Are you kidding me?

He has, since, explained what the patch is for. I'm not comfortable with it, but whatever. It has been decided that we'll be getting new computers for us three, who are so woefully behind the times. Fine. I think my current PC is just fine, but you can't stop technology. I think transferring the info from my old computer to the new one is going to be an issue. To say that it will be a humongous pain in the keester is an understatement. But, I'll deal. What I keep having problems with is the feeling that we're getting treated like a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest. Where does it end? Everything seemed to be just fine one month ago, and now we're akin to cavemen in the technology age. It's more, more, more but with no explanation as to why. And, that's what bothers me.

Yup, that's what bothers me. I'm tired of the push to sell us more without telling us why. I'm done with the "don't worry we know what's best for your company" line that keeps being fed to us without an afterthought. I've always been a cynic and a skeptic, but they've got my radar raised permanently with the latest shenanigans. Well done. We'll see how it goes from here.

P.S. I thought this would be a short little post, but nothing I write ever turns out very succinct. Blame the game, not the player. :)

Oh, Me

Worry, worry, worry.

My mind is spinning this morning with all sorts of new troubles. It's almost as if I'm riding a merry-go-round, and no one wants to let me off. I see points of reason as I'm spinning but can't focus on them long enough to formulate a thought about them. Is this how people feel when they're losing their mind?

I worry about my daughter. Every parent has that fear that their own child isn't like other children. Now, I'm having that worry. Is she where she should be for her age? Is she like other children, or is there something abnormal about her? Where are the rest of her teeth? I know that my worry for my child will never go away, but that's the problem. I need answers to questions. And, there are no definite answers for me. Nothing to really give me peace of mind. I hate it, and there isn't one thing I can do about it.

I worry about my peace of mind in general. My house is closing in around me. Space has become hot commodity, and we're running out of it. It's also not very clean or organized. It's starting to take a toll on me. I want to clean, but the thought of moving all that shit in order to clean makes me so tired my head starts to hurt. It's cluttered, dirty, and beyond my comprehension anymore. It is slowly driving me mad. I take it out on my husband, which is so beyond unfair it's incomprehensible. But, if I let if fester within myself, I'll explode. A catch-22, I suppose. Again, I hate it, and there isn't really anything I can do about it.

And, what about the rest of my family and Lee's family? Are they happy? What's going on with them? Do they need my help in any way? I know some of the answers to some of the questions. Some I don't don't. Most of the time, I choose to remain in my own world and pretend all is well. I don't like cracks in the facade of perfection, so my belief is that ignorance is truly bliss. I know perfection is unachievable. I don't have to look too far outside of my own life to recognize that. But, if everyone else is doing well, then life really can't be all that bad. So, I believe the lie. I can exist that way.

A more immediate concern: The weather. Or, more specifically the freezing rain that has chosen to fall today. Really, why? Nothing is normal about rain in February. Or driving in it for that matter. I don't like living with a knot in my stomach. But, I've got a huge one now anticipating my drive home from work. I already fear death as it is, so this is just a cruel, sadistic reminder. Why, oh why do I live here? It's a question that I ask myself every winter but seems to become more pertinent as I get older.

Sometimes it seems like it would be so easy to be a child again, when all you were concerned about was Christmas, summertime, and birthdays. When you didn't have to think about all the burdens you would have to shoulder by becoming an adult. I long for just a brief period to not think about anything important. I suppose that's why I drink too much sometimes. It's a brief escape from reality, an escape where your most pressing decision is what song to next play on the jukebox. Unfortunately, that escape can bear (bare?) some brutal consequences the next morning, which is why I do it pretty rarely these days.

My last worry: Should I publish this or not? I don't know. Does this post make me seems as if I'm manic-depressive or schizophrenic? Maybe. I don't think I am. As I've said before, I can't turn off my mind. I thought that writing them down would at least calm me, which it has. Rather cathartic. I don't want anyone who may read this to feel badly or worry too much about me. That wasn't my intent. I just needed to let go of my feelings and thoughts to stop the carousel of my mind. And, it's worked. I can concentrate now and go about my business.

Inhale, exhale, and live. That's all a person can do sometimes.