How to Survive a Blah Weekend

Unfortunately my plans for Labor Day weekend have been squashed. The weather is partly to blame, but there are also personal reasons for cancelling my plans. I don’t like bailing on my friends, especially last minute, so I’m feeling guilty for doing so. On top of everything else, it’s crunch time for my actuarial exam so everyday this week has been coated in a thick layer of stress as I’ve tried to study as much as possible.

I didn’t have a breakdown yesterday (Friday). I was just feeling very overwhelmed and stressed. It’s funny because I had absolutely nothing to do Friday night. It would have been a perfect night to decompress and relax. However, the events leading up to why I canceled my plans, the guilt I felt for cancelling, and the thought of my upcoming exam left me feeling …blah. Describing my mood as blah is not the most articulate word choice, but I’m guessing most of you can relate. I got back to my apartment around 8pm, sat on my couch, and was completely indifferent about everything. Watch a TV show? Blah maybe. Text a friend? Blah maybe. Study for my exam? Blah maybe. I’m pretty sure feeling blah really translates into feeling depressed. Yes, I was depressed last night. I’m not clinically depressed. My feelings of blah aren’t chronic. But I’m a normal human being who’s affected by shit going on in my life. If anyone tells you they never get depressed that person is full of shit.

In the end, I ate a box of Jujyfruits and drank cognac as I watched one or two episodes of Bob’s Burgers. Then I had a sugar crash and fell asleep with my lights on around 9pm. (I think I revealed too much in those two sentences…) I woke up at 6am feeling like an idiot. Why did I do that??…What am I going to do with myself while everyone is away for the weekend…I could have been studying, but instead I ate an entire box of Jujyfruits…

As a child, my dad would get mad when my sister or I spilled something and then reacted in a normal kid way by staring with our mouths open in shock and disbelief at whatever it was we spilled. He would yell, “Don’t just stare at it! Clean it up! Don’t think, just act!” Even as a 7 year old, I knew this wasn’t the best advice. Nevertheless, over the years I’ve discovered the motto “Don’t think, just act” is very useful in certain situations, like when I’m feeling blah. So, after wallowing in self pity for about 30 minutes I decided to get out of bed and get out of my head (I’m a poet, and I don’t even know it!) and actually do something to improve my state of mind. That’s the gist of this post (only took 500 words!); what can I (or you) physically do to improve the way I’m (or you’re) feeling and thinking. I’m going to share what I did this morning to get out of a blah mood.

 

The Forrest Gump

Every 3-6 months a pull a maneuver I’ve termed “The Forrest Gump.” If I’m feeling really stressed, or depressed, or unsettled in any way I hop on the treadmill or the elliptical and start moving. I have no calorie or milage goal. I just run, and I don’t stop until whatever is bothering me is out of my mind. I probably burned about 1,000 calories this morning in addition to completing a few sets of stability ball planks. If anything, this technique makes you so tired you’ll fall asleep and thus not think about your current life situation…

There are also benefits when you’re still awake. As Elle Woods said in the movie, Legally Blonde, “Exercise gives you endorphins. Endorphins make you happy. Happy people just don’t shoot their husbands.” I don’t plan on shooting any husbands, but I wholeheartedly agree that exercise makes me happy and gives me energy. On top of this, physical activity helps me get out of my head. I tend to ruminate or over analyze things, but when I’m focusing on banging out another mile on the treadmill while my heart is racing and my legs feel like jello I have no thought space to focus on the trivial stuff that might have been bothering me before.

 

Writing a Blog Post

“Writing a Blog Post” is very specific. What I really mean is being creative. When I’m creative I get in the flow, and I lose track of space and time (I don’t mean to sound trippy. No brownies were involved in the writing of this post.). It’s just like exercising in the sense that creativity forces me to focus on something other than my problems. I’m redirecting my energy; but rather than focusing on my body (like when I’m running), I’m focusing on what I want to create.

Another creative outlet of mine is drawing. Lately I’ve been drawing a lot of flowers – lots and lots of flowers. Flowers are pretty easy to sketch, and drawing one is a nice 30 minute break in between study sessions. Alas, drawing a shit ton of flowers becomes an embarrassing problem when you leave your flower sketches – tulips, sunflowers, roses – scattered all over your living room and bedroom and then property management does an unexpected fire alarm inspection in your apartment. It’s not like I’m drawing pictures of naked people or dead animals, but I can imagine property management now secretly refers to me, the girl in #306, as “flower girl.”

 

I’m officially out of my blah mood, so I’m going to go shower and get on with my day. I’ve been working on another post that is funnier than this one. Hopefully, I’ll finish that within the next week, and I won’t be taking another 5 month hiatus

Until then, ciao.

 

 

 

 

Why I’m a Slightly Dysfunctional Adult (and Why That’s Okay)

Yesterday was my 28th birthday. As a kid, I always imagined my life would be over by 28. I expected to have a great job, a house, a car, a husband, and kids. I was hoping for a pink high rise condo and a pink limousine with a hot tub in the trunk (Barbie really set some unrealistic expectations for young girls…) Thank God my childhood fantasy has not come true. My friend told me women reach the peak of fertility at age 28. Despite this fact, I have no desire to have children. The only life goals I’ve achieved are landing a great job and owning a car (I’m going to get those dents fixed…I swear.) No house, no husband, and definitely no children. I do want those things eventually; I just have some slightly dysfunctional personality qualities I need to sort out first.

I’m not saying my existence as an adult is a complete sham. I believe the exact opposite. This is the first time in my life I feel like a real adult. Everyone suffers from imposter syndrome after high school or college. We all tried to act like adults, but we had no fucking idea what we were doing. When we were teenagers our parents took care of us and most of our major life decisions were heavily influenced by our parents, teachers, and others who were “more experienced.” (I know I’m coming from a very suburban middle class viewpoint, but that’s all I know). As a result, most of us went through our early to mid twenties feeling like we were making it up as we went along. We did our best with limited knowledge and experience, but deep down we were insecure and fearful of being found out. Fearful that one day the others (the real adults) would discover who we really were, imposters, fake adults who secretly left empty pizza boxes sitting on the kitchen counter for days. (For the record, I still do this.) I suffered from imposter syndrome for most of my twenties until finally at age 27 I had enough self confidence and fortitude to believe in myself and my life choices, even when I was unsure or nervous about the outcome of those decisions. I finally had the self-assurance to know no matter how limited my experience no matter the decision no matter the outcome, I would be okay.

Yet with all that said, I know there are things about myself I need to change. That’s just another facet of being a “real” adult, understanding and acknowledging your good and bad qualities. Just because you acknowledge and accept a negative personality trait, doesn’t mean you’ve settled for it. Acknowledging your weaknesses is the only way to identify your personal development needs, and accepting your weaknesses ensures you maintain your self esteem while attempting to change. Especially if change is difficult, as it often is when you’re an adult. Failing to acknowledge a weakness means you’ve settled for it, and I can’t tolerate people who settle to be less than I know they can be.

At this point if you’re thinking about your own weaknesses, and you’re beginning to feel bad or discouraged…fear not. I’m about to share an example of an area in my life that needs improvement, immense improvement. I hope after reading this you are either overwhelmed with pity or filled with a sense of camaraderie knowing you are not the only slightly dysfunctional adult.

 

I pick things up, put things down, and then I lose those things.

Anyone who knows me knows I am messy and scatterbrained and extremely forgetful. I’m not stupid. There is nothing wrong with my short term memory. I actually have a great memory. The problem is my ADD brain. I literally put something down and get carried away by another thought or activity and develop complete amnesia regarding the object as well as its location. I once put my TV remote in the refrigerator while getting a beer. When I couldn’t find it, I figured it was late, and I should go to bed and the remote would turn up in the morning (as if it was a lost dog with a brain and legs, and it would somehow find it’s way home). The next morning, low and behold, I found the remote in the fridge…it was like the final scene in the movie, Homeward Bound, when the kids are reunited with their animals. I knew it would come back to me!

In addition to this, I have a bad habit of picking things up (such as bottles and boxes of food), emptying their contents, and then not disposing of them in the appropriate receptacle. Instead, I usually put empty bottles and/or food containers back in the fridge or pantry.

As illustrated in Exhibit A:

Believe it or not folks, all those beer bottles are empty. I finished them and then proceeded to put them back in the fridge. I don’t discriminate against beverage type either. As demonstrated in Exhibit A, I also hoard empty Starbucks cups and Powerade bottles.

Furthermore, while writing this post, I came to the realization that in the time it took to snap that picture I could have easily removed the bottles from the fridge and placed them in the recycling bin. And since this post is about acknowledging your weaknesses in order to change them, I decided to set a good example by doing just that.

Unfortunately, what happened next is best illustrated in Exhibit B:

Perhaps I should’ve taken out my recycling (something I haven’t done in two weeks) before deciding today would be the day I finally clean out my fridge…

Classic Movie Quotes Are Actually Jewels of Poetic Wisdom

My grand plans for Friday night were to nosh on Jujyfruits and binge watch classic movies on Netflix. These grand plans, however, were cut short when I realized Breakfast at Tiffany’s was no longer available on Netflix Instant. How could Netflix do this to me?? The only movies I can count on are movies I’ve already seen, especially classic movies made before 1970.

I know most of you would rather watch Ted Cruz read Dr. Seuss’s Green Eggs and Ham while filibustering on the Senate floor than watch a classic movie from start to finish; I can’t even argue with your reasoning. Even among my all time favorite classic movies, the acting is subpar and the plot progression is comparable to the bunny hill (modern movie plots = black diamond). To be honest, you should begin watching every classic movie with the understanding that filmmaking involves a certain level of “technical” skill, and films should be judged relative to everything made before – not by everything made after. Not to mention, I usually have different intentions when watching old films versus modern films. Modern films are (most of the time) strictly for entertainment. (I like how I made an absolute statement non-absolute by adding a note in parentheses…I abuse my privileges with these things, ha!) My mind kind of checks out when I watch modern movies. When I watch a classic movie, there’s more reflection/analysis going on in my head.

I don’t even like watching movies, but I love watching classic movies just so I can analyze the screenplay/symbolism presented throughout the film. For example, the acting in Breakfast at Tiffany’s is simply god awful; it’s too “high school theater company-esque” for a full length film. But despite the recitation of a few cringeworthy lines, there are some downright poetic moments loaded with symbolism and metaphor. You need to watch the movie at least twice to digest all the dialogue. Audrey Hepburn’s character, Holly, is a commitment-phobe who’s afraid to own/take responsibility for anything both physically and emotionally. She owns nothing and nothing owns her. Holly won’t even name her cat. She doesn’t own the cat (or so she says) – they’re just “a couple of no name slobs.” She also loves window shopping at the upscale jewelry store, Tiffany’s, and even goes so far as to say, “If I could find a real place that makes me feel like Tiffany’s, then I’d buy some furniture and give the cat a name!”

When I first heard this line, I interpreted it as just another quote from Holly outlining her personal views on commitment, ownership, and responsibility. Nevertheless, after watching the film a few times, I realized this line revealed so much more about Holly. First, although Holly seems vehemently opposed to responsibility and commitment, the fact that she uses an “if, then” statement to describe how or when she would ever buy furniture and name her cat demonstrates there is a part of her that actually does want more stability and commitment, nevertheless there are conditions on how or why she would want this. Second, the fact that she says “If I could find a real place that makes me feel like Tiffany’s” is a little odd, because Tiffany’s IS a real place! It’s almost as if Holly is actually saying, “I want to find a home somewhere and be loved, but I haven’t found a tangible reason applicable to my own life to motivate me to put in the effort.”

It’s seriously like you’re listening to two hours of poetry rather than two hours of story telling. The meaning behind every line isn’t based on emotions portrayed by actors, the meaning is hidden away in the actual words of the script. You don’t get this from modern films. In modern films actors actually act, so there’s no need for flowery overly wordy metaphorical language. Producers of modern films can use super literal realistic dialogue, because modern actors use contrived emotions to make the story believable. That’s why modern movies aren’t quoted as much as classic movies. (except maybe comedy?). I’m sure the following lines all sound vaguely familiar: “What we’ve got here is… failure to communicate.”, “Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.”, “There’s no place like home.”  These quotes are from some of my favorite classic movies…people know these lines without even knowing the film they originated from, let alone the context. And even though these lines are timeless, most people still find watching classic movies a nail bitingly unenjoyable experience. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve tried to watch the films quoted above with my friends…only to hear them say (sometimes with distain), “Yeah, no one would ever say this in real life.”

Well…it’s true! No one would ever say that in real life, but that’s the point! And that’s the secret ingredient that makes classic movies so good. AND that’s why Netflix needs put my classic movies back on Instant!!

 

Okay, I said my piece…I guess I’ll just watch Daredevil with my sister, haha!

 

Ciao.

Lame Duck Wisdom

I feel slightly awkward, because I’m typing this post at work. Based on the fact that it’s not my lunch break, I am clearly underwhelmed with assignments right now. My last day at my current job is tomorrow (today by the time I post this); I guess I’m what you’d call a lame duck. When I’m not browsing google news I’m staring at my computer until the screen dims and then I try to wiggle the mouse as quickly as possible before it goes idle and black. It’s become a weird game. And although there’s nothing I’d rather do than read articles about the Iowa caucus (sarcasm), I can only read the names “Ted Cruz” and “Donald Trump” so many times before I go completely loco (because I wasn’t a nut before).

With that said, I figured this would be a good time to update the blog. I haven’t posted in over a month, and if I don’t write a new post soon I might lose my blogging mojo. This isn’t going to be my funniest or most insightful post; but it’s relative to my life right now, and I know my coworkers will be entertained. And we all know the majority of my followers are my coworkers (who soon will simply just be..my friends, I hope?). So today in honor of the coworkers I will miss dearly, I’m outlining a few tips for surviving in a cube environment (Perhaps, this list will help my coworkers survive without me ;)).

There are certain unwritten rules and customs obeyed in a corporate office. I guess it’s inevitable that certain protocols and practices are followed to maintain peace in a workplace where a mass of grown adults are required to wear uncomfortable clothing and sit for 8 hours a day in tightly packed spaces with limited windows (Wait, am I describing work or prison?). And aside from falling in line to maintain an amicable office environment, the clever office worker will also acquire some “aisle smarts” in order to collect the best supplies and ensure an overall pleasurable working experience. I’m not entirely sure if every cube environment is like this, but I hope at least some of my “survivor skills” are applicable at my new job.

So without further adieu, here are my jewels of wisdom…

 

1. As a newbie, you will always get the cube closest to the kitchen. Learn to deal with it while you’re there, but be ready to claim your territory the minute a coworker with a more desirable cube leaves the office. 

The cubicle migration pattern is always moving away from the kitchen. This is true for several reasons. Most obviously, the office kitchen is home to many odors. Some are good and some are bad. When I had a cube near the kitchen, 3pm was always my favorite time of day. This was microwave popcorn hour. Microwave popcorn is a good smell. However, the smell of microwave popcorn mixed with day old tuna is NOT a good smell. And yes, I had to experience this first hand. I should also give a shout out to the inconsiderate asshole who occasionally reheats fish in the microwave. I love seafood, but I would NEVER reheat fish at work. The office is a confined space with few windows (i.e. little ventilation). I don’t care if you need omega-3’s, please cook your fish elsewhere. How do you expect me to complete a pricing proposal when I feel like I’m in the back of house at Red Lobster?

Another lesser known reason for not wanting a cube near the kitchen is the constant office banter you will overhear. The kitchen is where coworkers go to share…secrets. Unfortunately, the acoustics in the building make it so that every kitchen conversation can be heard at max volume in the cube around the corner. Sure, I love gossip and juicy stories just as much as anyone else. It’s just really difficult to do work when a strongly audible coworker is exclaiming about her last Weight Watchers meeting where a grown man had an emotional breakdown and balled his eyes out over the scale.

 

2. When food is in the office, wait until everyone else has gotten their share and then creep up like a mouse.

I like to get my share of the office goodies after the “celebration” is over. I typically poke my head out of the cube around 3pm and do a quick scan for balloons. Obtaining dessert in the office is super easy, all you have to do is find a balloon. Confucius said, “He who seeks random filing cabinets with random balloons tied to them will always find a random tray of dessert.” It’s true; he said it. Look it up.

Even if I want my “piece of the pie” at the same time as everyone else, it’s best to wait until the crowd has died down. I like to think I’m a friendly person. I try to get to know everyone in the office. Nevertheless, there are 50 people working on my floor. I can’t possibly get to know everyone. When a dessert spread is setup for a coworker’s birthday or work anniversary, I do my best to figure out who’s being celebrated before I load my plate with goodies. However, sometimes it’s nearly impossible to know. And because I don’t know everyone in the office, getting dessert at the same time as everyone else could potentially lead to one or more of the following scenarios, each being more embarrassing than the next. (1) I’m in line next to the person being celebrated, but I am completely unaware of this and accidentally snub them as I reach across the display for the last piece of coffee cake. (2) I make an attempt to be polite and say “congratulations” or “happy birthday” to whoever I think it should be said to, only to find out I actually gave this greeting to the wrong person. Or, (3) I say “happy birthday” to the wrong person, and then discover the person I should be saying it to was the woman I accidentally elbowed while reaching for a blueberry bagel bite.

 

3. Time at work is precious. Especially, time spent out of the office. This is why you need to milk it.

When my coworkers and I go out for lunch it’s almost as if a switch has been clicked on in our brain (or perhaps a few switches have been turned off). We go from diligent little workers to lackadaisical slackers who will do anything in our power to not go back to the office. Our thought processes work something like this…lunch at the diner? Sure, why not! Oh hey, they serve beer at this diner. Sure, why not order one! …Well, we knocked back a few beers – can’t go back to work until we’re sober. Starbucks anyone? Sure, why not! Do you guys mind if I stop at the post office on the way back to the office? Might as well go now before rush hour…I think our record was a 3 hour lunch between the hours of 11:30am and 2:30pm, which was followed by a voluntary early dismissal at 4pm because you know, it was Friday!

 

4. Thou shalt covet thy cube neighbor’s office supplies.

Office supplies in a corporate workplace are kinda like toilet paper in Europe. You’re intuition tells you your employer should be supplying this stuff, but for some reason you have to bring/obtain these items on your own. Yeah, there’s a supply closet with a copious amount of notepads and pens, but other items are ridiculously hard to come by. Furthermore, there’s always a few veteran employees who have all the supplies you desire, and you often find yourself staring longingly at their cubes waiting for the “staff announcement” email publicizing their retirement, which would essentially give you the go ahead to go treasure hunting in their cubicles.

The body wasn’t even cold before people began claiming items in my cube. I had to remind them I was still here. I considered writing a last will and testament, but I’ve gotten pretty lazy over the last few days so I guess my coworkers can just fend for themselves after I’m gone.

One item I’ve already bequeathed to a colleague is my stapler. In my office, staplers are like praying mantises. You know they exist in a limited supply, but you rarely see one in real life – and you get more excited than you know you should at the sight of one. It was completely serendipitous that a stapler fell into my possession. I was printing an indication packet in the back room, and in the corner of my eye I spotted it. I knew I had to work fast, so I quickly swiped it from the counter and placed it on my desk before my document even finished printing. Now that I’m on my out, I gave my stapler to my cube neighbor who frequently borrows it. I like to think the act of bequeathing my stapler to my coworker was not only an example of kindness, but an example of loving kindness because I not only gave away my stapler, but also gave away a pack of extra staples.

 

I guess that’s it. I could list more “survival skills”, but this post is already longer than most, and I can predict most of my followers won’t make it to the end. To all my coworkers reading this, I’m really going to miss you! I’ve never worked with such a fun group of people. I know I’ve said this a lot recently, and I know you don’t believe me when I say it, but you haven’t seen the last of me! I’d love to stay in contact and possibly meet up for a happy hour. (We can get full on krunk, and it won’t be awkward because we’re no longer coworkers.)

So for now (but not forever) – Ciao!

The Myspace Survey Resurrected

It’s not Halloween, but I decided to bring something back from the dead. That something is the Myspace survey. If you were in a coma between the years 2005 and 2008, Myspace is a social networking website offering an interactive, user-submitted network of friends, personal profiles, blogs, groups, photos, music, and videos. I’m a little rusty at blogging, so I stole that definition from Wikipedia.

Essentially, Myspace was the precursor to Facebook. Myspace wasn’t as obnoxiously intrusive as Facebook, because you couldn’t post random pictures, videos, or news articles about your political views, your pets, your most recent vacation, or anything else nobody cares about. However, with Myspace it was much easier to create an image or brand for yourself that contrasted sharply with the real you.

The bread and butter of your Myspace page was your profile picture consisting of you in your best clothes, with your makeup on, looking as thin as possible, maybe making some sad and distant emo face. (I speak for female Myspace users). When I was using Myspace, you could also customize your page with HTML creating sections for “About Me”, “I’d Like to Meet”, and “Interests”. These “About me” and “Interests” sections gave birth to the Myspace survey.

Back in the day, most Myspace users were teenagers – keep that in your head for a second, because I will digress in the next few sentences. As a 27 year old, I sometimes I find it difficult to clearly articulate who I am and what my interests are. I’m not a lost soul nor do I spend the entirety of my free time watching QVC (only 10% of my free time – 20% during the Holidays). I’m just a complex person who’s engaging in said interests and living my life based on those preferences that define who I am. This makes it difficult to stop, think, and write about myself and my interests in paragraph form. Now, imagine how difficult this is for a teenager – someone who is not so sure of themselves and not really sure who they are yet. They have some interests they really enjoy, but other activities are forced upon them by parents and peers. On top of this, teenagers try desparately hard to impress one another and “look cool”. Their Myspace profile has to convey who they are while simultaneously conveying how cool and likable they are. This leads to a crisis of thought similar to the one I had while writing my dating site profile in which I said something like “Oh shit, who the fuck am I??”

This is why the Myspace survey was so useful. You didn’t have to think critically about your personality or interests. The Myspace survey revealed all these things for you. Other people would understand how cool you were just by reading your responses to the survey questions – what and how you answered.

But alas, as Robert Frost wisely said, “Nothing gold can stay.” And this rings true for Myspace surveys. The Myspace survey seemed like the golden ticket to the express train out of describing yourself on social media; however, most were written for and by teenagers and thus filled with irrelevant bullshit questions that revealed nothing about your interests or personality. The worst part is that somewhere in the depths of the internet, all those bullshit questions you answered have been stored – and they’re waiting to be found by a friend or coworker who wants to make fun of you and your awkward teenage self.

So now that I’ve written 500+ words for my introduction alone, I will get to the meat of my post. I thought it would be a fun idea to resurrect a Myspace survey to answer/make fun of the questions. The last time I completed a Myspace survey was 2 years ago after drinking a few bottles of wine with my friend, Kylie. Although our responses were absolutely hilarious, I decided to complete the current survey sober in order to maintain the authenticity of my responses. The survey I chose was originally created in 2009. It’s past my time – but I thought the content was too good to pass up. I laughed really hard when I read the title, “good morning sunshine, awake when the sun hits the sky.” And then a laughed even harder when I realized this was a line from a Coheed and Cambria song. Keep in mind, I’m not including all the survey questions in this post. I’m only giving you the highlights. But enough introductions, here are my responses to “good morning sunshine, awake when the sun hits the sky” (yeah, I just laughed again while typing that).

 

Why are you where you are right now? This question could induce an existential crisis. How deep do they want me to dig? Right now I’m sitting on my couch typing my blog post. I’m here because my couch is soft and comfortable.

 

When was the last time you threw up? and the even better follow up question Why did you throw up? I’m not going to answer this question, but I will make fun of this question. There’s such a thing as too much information, and this question is about 100 miles over that boundary. The moment I read this I felt like I was completing one of those new patient questionnaires at the doctor’s office. I half expected the next question to be “How many bowel movements do you make in a week?”

 

Do you still buy CDs or do you just download everything? No CDs for me. I download everything from Napster and Kazaa.

 

If you went to Jail, what would you go for? I love how this question glamorizes criminality. But if I must answer – Frank Sinatra was arrested for seduction; I could see myself going down that route. I mean, my mom always says I’m so cute it should be illegal!

 

If you died next week, what would be the cause of death? This survey just took a morbid turn….with that said, rather than describe how I’m going to die, I’ll tell you how I’ll amazingly cheat death. It’ll all start when German terrorist, Hans Gruber, takes Nakatomi Plaza hostage during a Christmas party. I’ll use my experience as an NYPD detective to take down the terrorists and reconcile my differences with my estranged wife, Holly…Oh wait…

 

What is the best way to tell someone that they stink? This might be the easiest question of the entire survey! Simply walk up to the stinky person in question, tap them on the shoulder and say, “Excuse me, you stink.”

 

Ciao.

 

How to Pee in the Middle of the Night

Some things must be done delicately. Peeing in the middle of the night is one of those things. You need to exert enough energy to go to and from the toilet. But, you can’t get too excited, or else you’ll be lying in bed staring at the ceiling for hours. So what is the best way to approach this twilight tinkle conundrum? I have the answer; I’ve developed three easy steps for taking a midnight piss.

Step 1: Remember your sweet spot

Your sweet spot is your body position right before you fall asleep. Everybody tosses and turns in bed. Your sweet spot is the body position you finally settle on before you fall asleep. Most of the time your bladder is at odds with the rest of your body, and because of this, you have to pee as soon as you find your sweet spot.

Here is the trick to preserve your sweet spot. Before you get up to pee, savor your sweet spot. Try to memorize your exact body position and where your head falls on the pillow. As you get up to pee, keep the image of your sweet spot in your mind. Don’t let it go, or else you’ll have to get yourself comfortable all over again.

Step 2: Keep all lights off 

I’m sure most of you already do this. You’ve been sleeping for several hours, your eyes have adjusted to the darkness. By no means should you “unadjust” your eyes. The moment the lights go on is the moment you’re awake and won’t fall back asleep.

But what if you need to walk up stairs to get to your bathroom? Or, what if there are sharp edges along your bathroom route? In the event your bathroom path is treacherous, you can still preserve your sleepiness by doing what I call the “zombie walk.” Walk with your hands in front of you, shielding yourself from any doors, stairs, or sharp objects. If the stairs are your primary concern, do the “zombie walk” with an added march. The march will help you decipher where a stair begins and ends, and thus help avoid any mishaps getting up and down.

If all else fails you can always use the flashlight app on your phone. However, this is a slippery slope. Make sure the flashlight is pointed away from you at all times. Shine the flashlight in your eyes, and you might as well go straight to your couch and watch QVC (QVC is my insomnia channel of choice). 

 Step 3: Do Everything Gently 

Don’t tip toe. That involves too much movement. Instead, glide across the floor like an ice skater. Keep your head down (but keep your arms in front of you, of course). Try to keep your eyes half open to maintain your dream-like state. Imagine you are in a slow motion replay. Every movement should be slow. (but not exaggerated). Exert too much energy, and you’re bound to wake yourself up. If this is all too much to remember, just emulate a zombie from The Walking Dead. 

The difficult part is when you get inside the bathroom. If you’re a female, and you live with males, the toilet seat might be up, in which case you’ll have to put it down before you pee. Move the toilet seat down as gently as possible so the bottom of the toilet and the seat touch with a soft *ping*. If you hear a loud industrious *clank* – you did it wrong, and you’ll be wide awake for a few hours. 

I hope you find this how-to useful. If none of the above strategies work for you, you can always pee in your bed. However, I paid over $100 for a memory foam mattress pad, so I won’t be peeing in bed any time soon.

 Ciao

Supermarket Frequent Offenders

I’m usually speedy Gonzales when I’m grocery shopping. I know exactly what I need and where to find it. My grocery trip resembles the lightning round of the game show Supermarket Sweep – except I don’t shovel slabs of meat and diapers into my cart (to see what I’m talking about: click here). Because I have this “in and out” mentality when it comes to grocery shopping, I get very agitated when something or someone slows me down. There are certain unwritten rules one should follow while inside the supermarket. I get pissed when these rules are broken. The only items left on my list are steam-able veggies and shampoo, but I’m stuck in aisle 5, because someone’s cart is smack dab in the middle of the aisle! In my perfect world, certain people would not be allowed to grocery shop. I place these people in three categories and elaborate below.

The Hufflepuffs
Hufflepuffs are people who walk through the supermarket with their heads in the clouds. They usually have no shopping list, and therefore spend a decent amount of time examining items. They are both mentally and physically slow. It’s easy to spot a Hufflepuff. They’re the ones pushing their carts at .0000001 mph. I’m trying to get from point A to point B as quickly as possible; these Hufflepuffs cramp my style. Nevertheless, I feel a pang of guilt for getting so annoyed with the Hufflepuffs. Maybe this Hufflepuff is moving slowly, because of a physical handicap. Then I feel like a horrible person for getting so annoyed. And at the same time, I’m annoyed at myself for feeling guilty – it’s an endless cycle!

Hufflepuffs are also associated with supermarket traffic jams. It’s good supermarket etiquette to place your cart off to the side so as not to block the aisle. Unfortunately, Hufflepuffs never got the memo. They place their carts in the middle of the aisle as they mull over one item for ten minutes. I Just need a can of beans, but this Hufflepuff has me trapped in the pasta section.

The Extreme Couponer
Just as Hufflepuffs cause traffic jams in the aisle, extreme couponers cause traffic jams in the checkout line. Extreme couponers are far more annoying than Hufflepuffs. By the time I check out I’m more than ready to go home, which means I’m at my peak of impatience. My stomach starts to churn the moment I see a stack of coupons emerge from the purse of a shopper in front of me. I wouldn’t mind all the coupons if it was a quick and easy process (i.e. just scanning them). But it’s never a quick and easy process with extreme couponers; they are like the asshole professor you had in college. You know, the one who nitpicked your work and took off points for every little thing. If they were supposed to get a 50 cent discount that didn’t show up on their receipt, they will argue with the cashier until they get their 50 cent discount. I have a lot of change. I will give you 50 cents. Please just finish your checkout.

I’m not saying extreme couponers shouldn’t be assertive. I just think it’s rude to do this at the expense of other people’s time. Has no one heard of customer service? An extreme couponer should debate their discounts at the customer service counter.

The Pseudo Express Laners
You know who I’m talking about, and you’re probably guilty of being this type of person at one time or another. These people have at least 20 items in their cart, yet they believe it’s okay to go through an express line that clearly states, “15 items or less.” Like the extreme couponers, pseudo express laners want to save time at the expense of my time. And once again, by the time I reach the checkout I’m more than ready to go home. Especially, if I’m buying less than 15 items.

What does this all mean? It means pseudo express laners irk me on a whole new level. If Hufflepuffs and extreme couponers are duplexes, pseudo express laners are the Empire State Building. The most annoying thing about pseudo express laners is most of the time no one calls them out. You never hear a cashier say “Sorry, you have too many items for express.”

There’s also a new type of pseudo express laner. Due to the growing popularity of self checkout machines, people are now wasting more of my time. I know there’s no rule limiting the number of items at the self checkout, but use common sense. There are two tiny spots to fill your bags and a limited number of self checkout machines. Sounds like an express checkout to me! And because we live in a society of anthropophobes, all the machines are usually in use at the same time. Why should I have to wait to buy my ONE Quest bar, because you’re checkingo-out enough items to feed an army. On the bright side you have to bag all those items yourself; karma’s a bitch isn’t it.

 

 

I’ve decided not to include a closing paragraph for this post, simply because I couldn’t think of one. I also have over 130 followers, which means I will bring in baked goods every day for a week when I come back to work. If I can get to 150 followers, I’ll extend that to two weeks straight of baked goods.

Ciao

Lose Control and Gain Your Sanity

These past few months have not been easy for me. Many things have happened which were out of my control. Whether it was my symptoms, treatment, or medication, I had to sit back and simply let things unfold. As a control freak, this was not easy for me. I was always a firm believer in the idea that control = power. In reality, my need for control gave me less power. For those going through a medical crisis, the need for control also impedes your treatment. You’re trying to control something you know nothing about (i.e. trust your doctor, not your own BS “knowledge”). Through all of this, I’ve learned the need for control promotes anxiety and worry, and it prevents you from learning acceptance, tolerance, and coping skills. If you could do one thing today to improve your life, I’d definitely say let go of your need for control. This is a very important post for me. This post will summarize all the insight I have gained over the past few months. I truly feel like a changed person. I am more resilient and less worrisome than I was before. I’ve learned to give up my need for control and deal with a difficult situation in a constructive way. I figured all my newfound insight should be shared as it is very useful for everyone, especially “control freaks”

Need for control = anxiety and anxiety = fear of the future
The need for control encourages anxiety and worry. Anxiety is the fear of the future. When you seek control you usually have a preconceived notion of what the future should look like, and you try to take control in order to make things turn out that way. This is not the way to live. When you attempt to maintain control, you fail to live in the present. This will prevent you from growing as a person. Perhaps, the difficult situation you’re facing will teach you lessons in patience and adversity, and you can only learn these lessons if you focus on your current situation.

Once you let go of control, you begin to tolerate and accept whatever distress you experience
Removing our preconceived notion of the future gives us the power to practice distress tolerance. Distress tolerance is the act of accepting your current situation, whatever it may be, and implementing coping skills to help you deal with and thrive given your situation. What are coping skills? I’ll explain with a few examples. One of my coping skills is writing my blog posts. Another coping skill is drawing. Another coping skill is reading Harry Potter. Coping skills are both a distraction and a way to help accept and deal with a tricky situation. Using coping skills does not mean you’re okay with your situation nor does it mean you have to be in this situation forever. It simply means letting go of control and accepting your situation good or bad. I had to accept that recovery was a long process; there was no quick fix to getting better. Realizing this helped me deal with my symptoms – rather than insist that the doctors weren’t doing enough (which I did at first). Once I accepted my situation and accepted that recovery would take time, I bought myself a coloring book. When I’m coloring I know my life could be better, but I’m accepting my present state. I know whatever happens everything will be okay, because I’m strong enough to deal with it.

Ciao

How to Piss Off Every Driver on the Road

For today’s lesson, I will explain how to piss off other drivers on the road. I could easily have made a rant or list condemning annoying drivers. However, due to the copious amount of annoying drivers in Pennsylvania (where I live), it seems that being a dumbass driver is something to be desired. So I’ll appease the masses by making this a how-to.

#1 Drive below the speed limit
Most people consider the speed limit a minimum rather than a maximum speed. Driving below the speed limit will surely piss off fellow drivers. You can take this a step further by driving below the speed limit on the highway. You could even make it a tag team effort; drive below the the speed limit in the left lane while another driver drives below the speed limit in the right lane. This will prevent other cars from passing you. Other drivers will be pissed off, and probably shout many expletives directed towards you.

#2 Brake abruptly for absolutely no reason
Make sure you do this while a car is driving closely behind you. Not only will you piss off other drivers, you will also increase your chances of getting into a fender bender – double win. If you want to make the back of your car look like a crushed soda can, this is the surefire way to do it.

#3 Begin to Brake a mile before you actually need to turn
This is for the driver who loves suspense. You’ll keep other drivers wondering when the hell you are going to turn. Make sure you keep your turn signal on, and pass at least two intersections before you actually need to turn. At each intersection, other drivers will try to pass you. Little do they know you still have two intersections to go. This will inevitably cause a fender bender, and once again this is a double win for you.

#4 Use your 4 way lights inappropriately
This tactic involves some skill. Although using your 4 way lights to park in a no parking zone is illegal, it is not annoying. It moves from illegal to irksome when you block traffic. For example, if you use your 4 way lights to justify parking in the middle of the road, you are doing it right. Take it up a notch by finding a narrow road. This will block traffic in both lanes. This is the ultimate “kill two birds with one stone”.

Now go out and use the techniques I just taught you. The next time I’m stuck behind some schmuck going 50mph in a 65mph zone, I will be both pissed off and proud. Pissed off because I’m going to be late, and proud because this schmuck might be one of my followers.

Ciao

A Tale of Two Monitors

I have horrible eyesight. I’m farsighted as opposed to nearsighted. Nearsighted means you have trouble seeing far away. Farsighted means you can’t see for shit – near and far. I also have a lazy eye that no one notices unless I’m drunk or tired. If we ever go out together, and you notice my lazy eye – you know I’m cut off. Because of my poor eyesight, my Excel workbooks are zoomed in to 150%, and I read the large print Readers’ Digest. (Never have I ever seen so many ads for adult diapers.)

Even at work when my workbooks are zoomed in to 150%, I have trouble seeing the numbers on my screens. Yes – screens. I’m one of those nerds with two monitors. One monitor is on the left, and one monitor is on the right. One is small, and one is big. The big screen is like the ayatollah screen; it has the desktop icons and the start menu. I do most of my work on the big screen.

A few months ago, my big monitor was on my right side. This was a problem because my right eye is my lazy eye. How was I supposed to see anything? I decided it would be a good idea to switch my monitors. It seemed simple enough. All I had to do was shut off the computer, unplug the monitors, switch the screens, and then replug them. It seemed so easy. Yes, that’s what I thought…

I did the switch over my lunch break. Just a quick fix , I thought to myself. I’ll get this done in 5 minutes. The turning off and unplugging went as smoothly as I predicted. However, the replugging was NOT easy. A feminist would have had an easier time reading Game of Thrones than replugging these cords into the monitor. Seconds then minutes passed as I hopelessly tried to replug the monitors. At this point I was sprawled across my desk trying to examine the plug holes. I looked like a beached whale. I began to work up a sweat, This is fucking ridiculous, I thought. Why would they manufacture a screen that is so difficult to plug in?!!

Realizing I was very agitated, I decided to take a break to find my zen and calm down. So there I sat, staring at the back of both monitors. (I spun them around to get a better view) My stare was zombie like, as if I was tripping hard.

At that moment the Assistant Vice President of my department walked past my cube, stopped, and asked, “Aren’t those supposed to be facing the other way?”

And that was the last time I adjusted anything on my computer.

Ciao