The sheltering sky, or the sneaky return of the undertow

Do you ever feel like you are just living this very small, pointless life? And you don't know what to do about it?

It's been a while since I've felt the undertow. And, in contrast to times prior, I'm not in an "I'm going to die alone" spot. And that's part of what bothers me so much - I'm actually really happy.

I just have these moments absolutely beyond my control.

I'll be going along, all forward motion and unsuspecting. La la la la la.

And then suddenly, this wet enormity of despair and pointlessness will sneak up from behind and wash over me. It's quick, cold, and dark, and all-encompassing.

It will pull, hard, and it will cover me, sometimes thickly enough that it really is akin to being stuck beneath the waves, panicked, unsure when I will burst through the surface and breathe.

And then it pulls back, and I do - I breathe, I see the sky, and the sun sparkles on the surface.

But still, as it recedes, I'll feel the wet reverberations of nothing-matters nothing-matters does-any-of-this-really-matter? lapping at my ankles, pulling at the ground beneath me. Does it? Really? Really?

And I'm left unsure of what's solid and where to stand, in the same way one is forced to balance and rebalance in the ebbing tide, as when the ocean sucks the shifting sand beneath your feet on its way out.

Anger bubbles

You know how sometimes someone can just infuriate you regularly enough that you stay at the simmer point with them?

I know boiling water is a cliché, but it's the best analogy. It's astounding to me how you can go through your day not realizing that with a particular person you are at a steady simmer. And the smallest thing can ratchet you up to where the anger bubbles break the surface.

But you simmer. And say they are maybe in some sort of position in your life which means you can't just tell them off, even if it would feel so awesome in the moment. And when you are tempted to do that, you thankfully have the ability to stop and remind yourself that you like to be able to pay your bills.

Maybe you get to a point where everything about him or her and the situation makes you angry? And so you lose the perspective to decide whether you should sit down and have a talk about this one particular thing that regularly incenses you? Because maybe it doesn't merit mention in the grand scheme of things - because you know there will be larger things that do?

But you are so regularly annoyed and simmering below the smile of your surface you just can't tell anymore?

And then you are necessarily writing about it in a rather opaque manner, just in case? With lots of question marks, which are perhaps unnecessary but feel kind of good?

Yeah. That's where I am.

Yet another reason I will never be an accountant

Everyone who knows me at all knows that I am not a numbers person.

I have learned that when the numbers in front of me mean something concrete and relate to my life, then I'm much more likely to figure them out.

But not always.

Because you guys, I ordered 150 save the date! magnets. Since we're inviting, at the absolute max 130 people (which is really pushing the limits of the space), in my mind I needed 130 save the dates, just to be safe. Right? And because you have to order them in increments of 50, I ordered 150.

So Maria and I have been talking about invitations, because I am ordering (orange!) envelopes and she is getting printer quotes.

The numbers I kept coming up with were so much bigger than hers. Like, pretty much twice as big.

Why, you might ask?

Or you might not.

Because you might be one of those people who doesn't need to use fingers and toes to do math, and then get panicked when the numbers exceed your digits. Who realizes that you don't need to count every single possible attendee when coming up with invitation numbers.

You might be one of those people who would look at your spreadsheet and realize that couples? Share an invitation. You only have to count them once for these purposes.

The magnets? We will have easily twice as many as we need.

Cringe.

Rant

I can't even tell you how furious I've been all morning.

Say you call the office of your doctor - a well-regarded practice - on Monday and say, "I need some advice. I think I have the same thing I had in January and I'm not sure what to do about it."

You explain that you were given a prescription with two extra antibiotics when you came in for that appointment in January, in case you'd need to start another course. But no refill. So being a responsible antibiotic taker, concerned about your health, you don't want to start a course of antibiotics without talking to someone.

And they take down all your information and they say they'll call you back. And they don't.

So you call Tuesday morning. And they apologize for not calling you back, and take down all your information one more time. And tell you to start the antibiotics you have, and that they'll call in the rest.

And then you call again at 4 pm to say you've not heard from anyone. You're not angry, you're not upset (yet). You just want your information. The information you've called in about twice.

At which point they say that they can't find your chart. But they will, and they'll call in the prescription to your pharmacy. At which point you give them all your details one more time.

And nothing happens.

This means you start your Wednesday morning with a call into their office. You remain on hold for half an hour, because, when they offer to call you back, you say that you don't intend it rudely, but you don't actually trust that they will return your call.

They spend 30 minutes trying to find your chart. And then say that actually, nobody called you back because they aren't willing to prescribe antibiotics without seeing you. They want you to come in. Which means rearranging your morning and canceling meetings to go to the doctor.

At that point, even though it takes you a long time to get angry? At that point you might actually be beyond angry. You might be livid.

And you will say, "I wasn't upset when I called the first time. I wasn't upset when I called the second time. I wasn't even upset when I called the third time. I would have been happy to come in any of those times - I just needed to know what to do. And now, now I'm really upset."

And it is very clear that you are not exaggerating.

They give you an immediate appointment that morning.

And then, you are sitting in their waiting room, waiting and waiting for your appointment, which you finally get called for one hour late. And if you are waiting with the worst waiting room magazines on the planet, and you get a call from their other office, saying they've called in a prescription for you?

It is all you can do to politely explain that you are currently in the waiting room of the other office. You further explain why this makes you really angry. It really is all you can do not to lose your shit.

I've gotta say, the doctor I saw handled my displeasure perfectly. My inclination, when I get upset, is to be very clearly upset. And that gets you nowhere.

So I'd thought through what I wanted to say 37 times in my head. It's hard for me to be angry with people - I was raised to not voice anger. I think people respond much better to men's anger than to women's, honestly. Men get far better results by being angry than women do.

So I have really worked up to letting out anger in a constructive way that actually gets you positive results. Obviously, it doesn't always. But far better than just getting really upset but not provoking the response you need.

I was outwardly really calm, and laid out my reasons for being angry very carefully and logically. She listened, she apologized for confusion, and she was completely constructive. I liked her and I trusted her. I'd see her again.

Except that I will never see her again.

I am flat out done with that practice. I don't actually trust that they're particularly organized or remotely concerned about my health or well-being, except when I'm sitting right there in front of them, in a never-on-schedule appointment.

OK. Rant over. Thanks.

If you won Powerball

Whenever Nick interviews people for a job, one of the things he asks is the following: What would you do if you won Powerball?

If they say they'd keep their jobs and just buy a couple cars or whatever, he persists. "Say you'd won a gazillion dollars, and you'd bought houses for your family members and whatever else for everyone you know. If you never actually have to work again, what would you do with your time?"

He doesn't want to hear that they'd keep doing their job, that it's their dream job, forever and ever. He wants to know how they'd spend their time, if they could do absolutely anything.

Sometimes he gets really interesting answers. He likes the insight it gives him into people and their lives.

So then he turned the question to me.

I didn't have an immediate answer. I mean, I can think of 50 things I'd rather do than work every day. But as a grand plan, I'm not sure.

What would I do with my time, if I could do anything?

I'd go everywhere in the world I've been dying to go - which is a lot of wheres. I could spend a good year doing that. Or maybe six months, then come home. If you could travel anytime you wanted, without having to schedule time off, you wouldn't have to do it all in one go, you know?

I think I'd spend a solid six months writing. Or maybe a year. I suppose that could overlap with the travel.

Then? Then I'd probably take fun art classes. I'd love to learn more about printmaking. And I would love to learn how to make jewelry.

Maybe I'd open a boutique. How fabulous would it be to be around fabric and clothing every day? And if you didn't have to worry about making money, you could be as experimental as you wanted, which would be so fun.

I find it interesting to think about. With no financial constraints, no parameters, how would you construct your life and spend your time?