Be Kind

I learned a lesson about myself today, and it is that I am much better at keeping my cool in a situation than I used to be. I believe I have learned through both maturity and therapy how to manage my emotions properly. This was put to the test today, as a gentleman at work screamed obscenities at me. Now, were this 10 years ago, one of two things would have happened. One, I would have burst into tears and quit my job on the spot. Two, I would have run my mouth off and gotten fired. Either way, if this was 10 years ago, I probably would have lost my job.

One of the tricky things about my position is that when folks come in to pay with a debit card, I cannot guarantee them a rental. It is a little detail that is hidden in the fine print, but we try to tell everyone we can so as to avoid situations like the one I had this morning. If you are paying with a debit card, you have to pass a soft credit check, and if you do not pass, I do not rent. Most people are disappointed but understanding, but this morning, I suppose this particular customer was having a very bad day. When I explained to him I could not rent, and further explained I could not refund his prepayment from the counter, I was greeted with great anger and blame, as if I were deliberately ruining this man’s vacation.

Except, I kept my cool. I did not dissolve into tears, I did not start screaming in his face: instead I just stayed calm and explained to him what his options were. He left angerly, saying he would be back with a credit card. I was very anxious for an hour or so while I waited for Boss-Mark to show up, because I did not want to face this guy alone, again. Fortunately, Mark came in about 1 minute before customers return, and sent me to the back to fill washer fluid bottles while he dealt with them. Before I went in the back, however, the man apologized to me for his behavior and said that he felt bad for what he had said. I don’t know if it was genuine or if it was because his 96-year-old grandmother was standing beside him, but either way it was appreciated.

This exchange put me in a funk for most of my morning. That is until later in the day, when I realized how differently I handled this situation compared to my behaviors in the past. After that, I was pretty proud of myself. I decided I was not going to let a stranger ruin my day, and since then I have been feeling much lighter. The little reminder that I have grown is enough to cheer me up and wipe away the funk.

Not a very long update today. Just remember to be kind to people if you can, and have a good weekend.  Happy Friday.

Gardening Through Grief

The above is a post from a grief support group that I follow on Facebook. The topic got me thinking, which brings me here to the blog.

It occurred to me literally yesterday that I will not be able to pick flowers from my mother’s garden this year. My father no longer lives in their house, and I think the new tenants would find it odd if I pilferred plants from their yard. I am very sad about this, because the hydrangeas and the clematis were always my favorite flowers in her garden, and they kept my house smelling lovely for days.  Then when they died, I would just go back and get some more. That is no longer an option.

My mother tried to teach me to garden when I was small, in our big backyard on Tonawanda street, but I did not take to weeding or planting the way she wanted. It was not until I was older and had my own apartment with a little patch of dirt that I started to care about growing things. That first year I grew green beans and cucumbers and carrots and strawberries and I was so proud of myself! After we moved out of that apartment, I didn’t have much green space with which to work anymore, so I started buying plans for the house. I am very sad to say that since my mother’s death, all of my plans have gone as well. I simply have not devoted as much time to them as I did in the past.

Sunday is Mother’s Day. I’m not exactly looking forward to it, because we do not have the kids this weekend so they cannot distract me from missing mom. Bernadette wants to go plant shopping, which sounds nice but still kind of makes me sad because that is what we used to do with mom on Mother’s Day. I would like to get a plant or two, however, and restart my garden. I think I will get some shamrocks and some strawberries, or maybe just a couple of succulents so I can ease my way back into gardening.

I suppose I should have used gardening as a grief coping mechanism. I did not think of it until I saw that post this morning. It is something that my mother loved it to do, and something I have enjoyed in the past. It may be worth a shot.

Today, however, I will simply be relaxing. I intend to get some things done around the house, and maybe get outside for a little while. I have plans with Chelsea later, and I am hopeful I will have a good day as I am feeling well. I am simply a little depressed about the impending Mother’s Day, but I’m sure it will pass. In the meantime, perhaps I will consider planting something new this year. I have plenty of space, and I would be really happy to grow something useful. We shall see. Happy Tuesday.

Man or Bear

Of course, I would pick the bear.

If you have not already heard, there is a conversation on the socials about bears versus men. It is a thought question of sorts, where a woman is asked: who would you rather meet in the woods? A random unknown man, or a random unknown bear? The obvious answer for pretty much every woman I have encountered has been bear, and the obvious response from every man I have encountered is “but the bear will eat you!” Yes, we know that. We also know that the worst thing the bear can do is eat us.

Listen, all I’m saying is that absolutely no one I know has ever been attacked by a bear, and yet, every woman I know has been attacked by a man in some way. So why on Earth would we pick the dude? But that’s not what I’m here to talk about, really. I’m here to talk about why you guys are so mad about it.

You know I love to remind everybody that the patriarchy hurts men too, and this is of course one of those ways. Men are conditioned by the patriarchy to believe that they are protectors.  However, we know, through logic and factual statistics, that many men are not in fact protectors, but our predators instead. The piece I struggle to understand is where instead of the men who want to be protectors turning against the men who are predators, they often find themselves supporting them instead. I don’t think they even know they are doing this sometimes, because the patriarchy has conditioned them to think things like locker room talk are normal and okay.

What really upsets me more than this, however, is how quickly some men seem to completely disregard a woman’s lived experience in exchange for what they believe would happen instead. Even my husband, while we were talking about this, got feisty that I would choose the bear. I had to remind him that while no, it is not all men (Gomez Addams would never,) it is unfortunately most men. Just because he is a protector and not a predator, does not mean the guy across the street, or the guy he works with, or even one of his friends is not capable of flipping the switch. And we, as women, have to be wary of that.  I’m not afraid of the bear, because to me, the bear is not the apex predator in the situation.

Almost every guy I’ve seen online has been real surprised about us picking bears. And yet, more than 500,000 of us are assaulted a year. Ergo, 500,000 of you are predators. There are 12 bear attacks in North America a year, also, in case you were wondering. I will take my absolute chances with the bear. It is nonsense to do otherwise…it is nonsense to THINK I would do otherwise. I really think the men who are questioning this need to have a long hard look at themselves, because something is off, gentlemen. If you want us to choose you instead of the bear, maybe round up your 500,000 compatriots and hunt them down the same way Fish and Game would hunt down a bear that killed somebody in the woods.

Happy Friday.

Some Days

Sometimes, it gets really hard. It gets really hard to go to bed at night, because I never know how I’m going to feel in the morning. It gets really hard to get up for work in the morning, because I know the moment my eyes open that I’m going to be sick. It gets really hard to take care of yourself or your house or your family, because you spend so much time in the hospital or a bed, just trying so hard to live a normal life that you don’t GET to live because you have a chronic illness.

Sometimes, it gets hard to watch other people live their lives. It gets hard to watch people hold down the nine to five, or be able to sleep an 8 hour night, or be able to eat a meal with a friend that doesn’t send them to the hospital in the morning. It is hard never knowing what the next day is going to bring to you. It is hard never being able to make a solid plan for anything, and when you try you have to make sure you know where to find the nearest hospital. It gets hard to take all of the medication all of the time. It gets hard to go to the doctor all of the time. It gets hard to lose days or even weeks of your life because you are sick, some of those days not just mundane middle of the week, but important milestone days, too. Sometimes, it just gets really hard.

I haven’t been well, truly, since the 18th. That is the last morning that I woke up without the fear. On the 19th, my eyes flew open and my feet flew to the bathroom, and my dinner flew out my mouth. That may be a little too descriptive for you, I’m going to assure you then when you are living with this on a daily basis, that is a very mild way to put what happened. I can’t tell you how many times I have been to the hospital in the past week and a half. I know one day, I had to go twice. I have barely eaten, I have lost weight, I cannot sleep, and I’m almost constantly sick. Time means nothing, as it is currently almost 2:00 a.m. and I am wide awake and feeling well. Or rather, well enough. I have no energy whatsoever, and feel super weak and a little dizzy. However, I am not rushing off to the hospital this morning, I do not think. At least, I hope not.

I could probably write a book about how my diabetes is constantly trying to kill me, but I am too exhausted from being sick. If it’s not the retinopathy, it’s the neuropathy; if it’s not the neuropathy, it’s the gastroparesis. If it’s not the gastroparesis, it’s just random weird blood sugars. But, everyday, it’s something. And then! And then we add on all of the psychological issues, which brings four new medications to the plate, and I find myself stuffing down wee fistfuls of pills just so I can sleep at night. And if I didn’t take the psych meds, then the toll of the chronic illness would only be worse on my brain and I would only end up needing more psych meds. Everything is a vicious cycle.

So no, this was not a happy blog was it? If you are a long time reader, then you know I occasionally use my blog as a vehicle to express my emotions on a deep level, and I guess today was one of those days. I have just been sick for so long, and I am so tired. Sometimes, it gets really hard.

A Little Spring Cleaning

Some short housekeeping.

How is a human being supposed to deal with their mental health during a chronic illness flare up? This is a question I am pondering today, as I am 2 days without psych medication. This is not due to a med error, but instead due to the fact that I haven’t been able to keep anything down for two days. Fortunately, my stomach is calm this morning and I was able to take my medication last night, however I am still dealing with some side effects of not having taken it the past couple of days. On top of that, I am trying to rest my body because it has been rebelling on me since Friday

So while my body needs to rest, my brain desires stimulation so that it does not wander off into depressing territories. I was recently bemoaning the fact that television doesn’t really do it for me anymore. I used to be able to zone out on a good show, but that rarely happens for longer than half an hour now. I need to actually be doing something in order to feel mentally at ease, but my body will not let me get off this couch.

So, instead, I am embracing the fact that my writer’s block seems to be dissolving along with Mercury in retrograde, just like I predicted it would, and I will pen this blog. I have already updated my Patreon for the week, with a new poem that I managed to pluck out of myself in the middle of the night.

There is not much more to share at the moment. It is Wednesday, but it is an off night for poetry open mic. Next week, a poet I enjoy is having a book launch, so that should be pretty cool. My only other news is that I am trying to figure out what my next batch of submissions will be. And of course, I will probably reread my novella for the 400th time. I tend to do that a lot lately. Oh well, happy Wednesday!

Rejection Dejection

Life is wild. One minute, you think everything is going to be fine and dandy and then the next someone rips the rug out from underneath you and you are flat on your back again. That has happened to me a couple of times in the past few days, but I’m only here to talk about the one instance.

After a long wait, I finally heard back from Ghost City Press regarding my mini chap, Me and Jesus on a Tuesday Afternoon. They very respectfully said thank you, but no, thank you. I spent a few moments being very sad, and then a few more moments not being surprised at all. The problem with this piece is that it is too long to be a single poem, but it is also far too short to be a book of any kind. So, it is very hard to find it a home, and I was up against a LOT of folks. I was very hopeful with Ghost City Press after a long wait and much confusion with my previous editor. Alas, I will have to figure out what to do with it next.

I haven’t felt rejection in a while, mostly because I handle it pretty well when it comes my way, so I was a little blindsided by the feelings of sadness that came with this particular rejection. Usually, I am fine with someone not accepting my work, but this one hurts somehow more than expected. I know it is because of the piece itself, which is a favorite of everyone who has read it but is not really publishable for some reason. I could publish it myself, but that would be a total kick in the bank account. It is small, and I could never charge more than $5 for it, so I would never make back the cost of the ISBN. It will have to wait until I have the ability to create such a labor of love.

Or, and this is another idea I have been toying with, I will make a full collection, eventually. I can always put my little tale of me and Jesus getting stoned on a Tuesday afternoon into a collection.

I don’t know what I’m going to do with it. Honestly, I don’t know what I’m going to do with a lot of things. My tarot cards saying that big changes are on the horizon, and I sure hope that is true, because right now I am getting pretty sick and tired of having that rug ripped out from underneath me.

I guess the best I can say is that this is the first blog in 2 weeks that I have written that hasn’t been about crippling writer’s block, so at least something’s going right.

Mercury in the Microwave

Mercury has been in retrograde, which is one of those things I never used to pay attention to until I did. I still do not know much about astrology, and if I have questions about the stars, I tend to ask my sister who knows a little bit more than me. I do know that when this occurs, your life can be thrown off course a little. Well, without going into any detail, I would like to say that this has definitely been the most off-kilter couple of weeks I felt in a while. But what I’m going to talk about here, of course, is the fact that I can’t write anything.

Two weeks ago I wrote a new poem. Not even a great one, but that was about it, aside from three…count them, THREE…blogs about having writer’s block. This is number four. I can only assume that once Mercury is out of the microwave I will get my ability to write back, but for the meantime I am very upset. Not only is this blog due yesterday, but today is Patreon day, and I’ve got nothing. Also, it is poetry night, and I’ve got nothing!

Frankly, I’m getting really aggravated. I thought my creative juices were stalled because I was working so much the last couple of weeks, but apparently that is not the case because I have had a great stretch of time this week in which to pen literally anything, but here I am with nothing. I couldn’t even get up a good topic. Any topics I want to write about are still solidifying in my brain and not ready to be put into print.

I do feel that there has not been much content to share lately. Like I have said, I worked a lot before, during, and after spring break. There is only so much I can say about the job. And then I would come home, do any cleaning and cooking and whatever, and then go to sleep and start all over the next day. Not much time for anything fun or interesting, except perhaps a few sitcom reruns before bed. I am hopeful I will have more content next week, however. Tonight, I’m going out for poetry night which is always fun, and perhaps will provide me with some tale to tell. On Friday, Carey and I are going on adventure, so perhaps I will write about that as well. Plus, the girls are coming this weekend.

Right now, I just feel kind of stalled. Hopefully I can rectify this situation with some friends and fun and family over the next few days. Maybe I will find a story I want to share, or at least one of these thoughts in my brain will decide to come out of my fingertips. We shall see.  Happy Wednesday!

Stress Induced Writer’s Block

I am not used to being wordless. Very few things in life leave me speechless, very few things keep me from touching pen to paper, but lately it seems an insurmountable chore to put anything out at all. The absolute last thing I want to do is write another blog about writer’s block, but I guess here I am.

I have been working on some poems, but nothing is done; nothing is coming out the way I wanted to. I checked my blog today and realized I should have worked on it yesterday, but alas here we are with no words.

I am believe many factors contributed to this. First of all, I have been working a lot, which does not leave much time for the creative thought process. The week after spring break found us with over 50 cars on our lot, which fits about 35 on a good day. All of these cars had to be organized and cleaned and moved about the parking lot, and all week boss-Mark and I were playing a life-size game of Tetris. Sometimes, when I am cleaning out a car, my mind drifts to other things like topics that I can write about. Unfortunately, because I was so tired and burnt out from the events of the week, I found myself only thinking about going home and watching reruns of Modern Family.

Another factor is that I have been deeply tired. This may be due to the work stress, or maybe my body is just finding it needs a little more time to rest. It is not that I feel sick in any way, but I have been sleeping 10 hours at a time, which is very rare for me. The other night I fell asleep at 5:30 p.m. on the couch and woke up at 6:00 a.m., as though no time had passed at all.

Finally, I haven’t been on my socials as much since I have either been sleeping or working. It is the internet that often gives me my ideas for poems and stories and blogs, but I have been avoiding such stressors in pursuit of relaxation since I was so stressed this week. Now, I find myself on this rainy Saturday morning very sad that I have nothing to pen. Now is the perfect time to write my blog, and yet my ideas remain dull and stale. Wednesday is poetry night, and I wanted to have a new piece finished by then, but I do not feel like that will happen either. Maybe I am just down on myself at the moment, and need to find a way to de-stress and relax so that I can get my groove back with it comes to writing.

So, I apologize for this boring blog. I force myself to write twice a week at least because if I don’t have a schedule I will spin off into outer space. But then I feel disappointed when my content is not up to my standards. Oh well, I hope you still love me anyway. Happy saturday!

Eclipsed

"Hey, Brig?"
"What up, brain?"
"You haven't blogged in a week."
"Well, crap."

In all honesty, I haven’t had much to say. The week went by in a flurry of chaos because work has been pure bedlam, with dozens of cars coming back daily after spring break. Yesterday was a little crazy because of the eclipse, and I was warned as a Buffalonian to prepare for traffic insanity. We are in the path of totality, and a million people were expected to pull up into Niagara Falls, which is our neighbor city to the north.

I went to work yesterday morning and planned on going to my dad’s for the eclipse, but I was so tired I could not get off my couch to go socialize. Instead, I waited until about 5 minutes before totality and went outside. I sat on my front steps and tried out my glasses, but they were useless given the cloud coverage. In the most Buffalo move ever, Mother Nature decided to give us all of the clouds right until AFTER the eclipse. The sun was out and shining and beautiful yesterday evening, but at 3:15 I was staring at the sky and unable to even determine where the sun was within it. At 3:18, it began to get dark, very fast. I noticed the street lights come on.

This was a very interesting fact to me. I often wondered as a small child whether or not street lights were on a sensor or a timer. It is one of those things I never bothered to find out the answer to, even though Google is right at my fingertips. Instead, I would just wonder when I would see a light pop on while I was driving and think to myself that someday I will figure it out. Yesterday is the day that I figured it out! The lights are on sensors!  I was so pleased.

It was very cool to see the sun return so quickly, and of course very cool to see the lights turn off again, but I did not get to see the actual eclipse due to the clouds. I remember when I was young, and we had an eclipse. We made special glasses in science class and learned about the moon and the sun. Yesterday, kids had off from school, which would have been amazing to me back in the day. It was like a miniature holiday in the middle of a Monday, and I think it was pretty cool overall.

Life returned to normal, of course, and I went to work this morning to help Boss-Mark deal with the influx of cars. It is still utter madness on our parking lot, but it is better than it was. Then I came home and had lunch, and that brings me to the writing of this blog. I can’t believe I managed to go a week without having anything to write about, but as I mentioned in my Patreon, recently I have felt a little bit of writer’s block…

Perhaps it is the moon! Perhaps the moon has just moved in front of my sun for a moment, and soon I will be back to shining as brightly as I did before. Perhaps it is even deeper into the astrology of things, and it is all due to the fact that mercury is in the microwave again. I do not know.

Either way, I will push myself to write more. I will try to jot down ideas for blogs this week so that I do not have such a long hiatus. I also need to come up with something for Patreon tomorrow, which may or may not be a difficult chore. I hope you all enjoyed your eclipse, and I wish you all a happy Tuesday!

National Poetry Month 2024

April has arrived! And with it, comes National Poetry Month.

In the past I have shared my poems, I have written about poetry, I have shared the poems of others, and I have talked about some of my favorite poets. I haven’t much to give today, because I haven’t had much time to write this week. Work was a little crazy due to spring break, and then we had the Easter holiday, which was as good as it could be for a pagan in a Catholic family. Yet, here we are at the beginning of April and I am desperate to write about one of my favorite topics, but I do not really have many words.

I think I can say, though, that over the past year I have gained more confidence in my poetry. I credit much of that to the Poetry Night I tried to attend twice a month at Caffe Aroma. Performing my poetry to an audience has taken it to another level, and being able to see reception of my work has bolstered my confidence in creating it. I also find myself enchanted by the other poets who perform at these open mics, who each have different and distinct styles and words that make me feel. I used to have a hard time staying until the end, but that has got an easier as time has gone on and beaten down my anxieties. Now, I look forward to every other Wednesday with childlike glee, because I am excited for my cup of blackberry sage tea and my debut of a new poem.

Unfortunately, Poetry Night is tomorrow at 9:00 p.m. and I have nothing. I have been struck with a little bit of writer’s block.

Perhaps I will hook up my computer. She is sitting, immobilized, waiting for me to figure out how to connect the screen to the tower. It is not a hard task, but it is a dark task in the tiny corner where the computer rests. I will have to get my flashlight and try not to jostle too much around. However, I know that inside of her hard drive lies dozens of poems from my past that I could rework into something good, potentially breaking through the writer’s block in the process.

And so, I am sorry to say I do not have any poems to share with you today. And I do not even have much to say, poetry-wise. Although, I will tell you that I am waiting with cautious optimism to hear back about my mini-chap. Responses will be going out soon, and I am checking my inbox regularly. Of course, should the best happen, you will hear about it here first. Anyway, that is all. I wish you a happy Poetry Month, and of course, a happy Tuesday as well.