Another blogger the other day was talking about how she always tried to keep her emotions out of her blog, making it upbeat and positive. She figured that no one wanted to read a downer of a blog, so real life in it’s predictable unpredictableness just didn’t fit in.
I get that. I sometimes feel like if I allow myself to go there, I might fall down a dark hole I’d never get out of. But as she so eloquently pointed out, sometimes it just ain’t happening.
And the problem with that is, it presents a false “us” as it were. A person who people think they can’t relate to, because they always seem to have things under control.
Well, I’m going to share with you the other side of me.
It started with trying to put an add into the Daily Oklahoman for my dad’s truck to sell. How hard can that be? I should have known when I looked on line and did not find autos in the classifieds that it wasn’t going to be easy. I finally saw they had a separate section for cars. I started my ad, going through the steps that asked first for my information, then the car information. Finally I come to the page where it asks for me to select the package I want. There is one that will run the add for 30 days with 8 photo uploads for only 9.00 extra. I check the box, and move to the next page where I’m supposed to check the dates on a calendar for the add to run. Only there is no calendar.
I try another computer–one that isn’t mac (thinking maybe it’s a flash thing). Nope. Still no calendar. I make 3-yes-THREE phone calls to finally get someone on the line who says it’s working on HIS end. I should log out, log in and start over.
I do. Same results. Increasingly frustrated, I call AGAIN. I get a lady on the phone who says she can help me over the phone. FINE, I say slightly perturbed. I grab my wallet, give her the info and say I want the deal that gives me 30 days. She claims she can’t do that. I’m annoyed and asks how can she not give me the same package that’s offered on the web site. She hangs up on me. 90 minutes have gone by. I come in from the front porch, calmly shut the door and have the presence of mind to gently lay the phone down. My wallet? Not so lucky. I hurled it across the house–and screamed. I thought this would make me feel better. It didn’t, so I screamed again. And again. And again. Then I went to the garage and after slamming that door as hard as I could, I screamed yet again. No words, just screaming. I then got in my car and sobbed.
Roughly 20 seconds later, hubs comes into the garage (the boys were gone) opens the car door and says, “Going somewhere?”
I then proceeded to tell him that I was tired of hitting brick walls (O.K., I had some colorful words in there as well) and wanted to know why this dark schleprock cloud followed me everywhere for ALL of my life! Why couldn’t one thing, just one, be simple and easy to solve. Instead, everything has to be as complex as it can possibly be, and I was completely out of patience and desperately lacking in coping skills. I feel like a drowning person with no life jacket. I went inside, and cried until I couldn’t cry anymore, while hubs pointed out that I was going to let something that wasn’t really that important in the scheme of life take 5 years off of it. He’s right, of course, but it didn’t cure my feelings and make me suddenly happy.
The next day (which was Wednesday), I resolved to log on again. I picked a different package with one photo upload, and this time got a calendar. It said I would get a link at the end to upload the photo. Of course when they had my money, I still had no photo upload link. This required one email, and two more phone calls, whereupon the girl on the other end says, “I know you can’t see a confirmation that the photo uploaded, but it did.” I’m happy to say, I did not scream. I did not use bright and colorful vocabulary. I didn’t even get sarcastic–not that I didn’t want to. I simply asked for confirmation.
Mission accomplished with a MAXIMUM of torture. I have given my anxiety a lot of thought in the last week. When I returned from vacation, there was a message on the phone reporting that my brother is now in jail, and will be for who knows how long. I can’t say I’m surprised, but I realized yesterday that the person I really needed to talk to, the person that I always connected with especially about my brother, was my dad. He could always talk about him, or anything, really. And now he’s gone. And that, I think, is what’s eating me.
I decided what I needed was to go to mass, so I looked up the times of my church for weekday liturgy. 12:15, perfect. Except when I arrived, the church was empty and there was no mass. Dear God, I stopped by for a chat, but you weren’t home…
Schleprock, I’m begging you. Please go away.