Posts Tagged ‘frustration’
A Quick Update
Hey, everyone. Sorry it’s taken me a while to get up a new blog, but I’ve been quite vexed with the housing search. When I was younger — at my first undergraduate school — it took about a month to find a place when nearly everything else was rented. But this search has gone way beyond that, especially as I started it in August…it’s well over three months, and I have yet to find a place to live that I can afford.
That said, I’ve also been battling my usual fall maladies of chronic sinus infections, general malaise, fibromyalgia flares/back problems, and of course the chronic depression I deal with daily. Being able to create helps me fight against all of that. But being in this situation works against being creative, as most of my energy is going toward either survival or finding a new place.
That said, for the moment I am still safe and staying with a family member. Later this month, if I still do not have a place, though, I’m not sure what will happen as the apartment complex here isn’t happy that I’ve been here so long without paying any rent to them. So this is the last month I can do that, though it may be possible for me to “reset the clock” by going to a hotel for a day or two. (Any longer than that, I can’t afford.)
As far as writing goes, I’ve been mostly stalled for all the reasons I gave above. As far as editing goes, I’m finally almost done with a lengthy edit — quite intense, lots of comments to make, and because it’s the last in a series, I have to make sure everything stays in good order. (This means I look stuff up. Nothing wrong with that. But any writer or editor worth anything will tell you what I’m saying right now: the work goes far more slowly if you’re having to do lots of cross-checks with previous books.) I believe I’ve done that, and it’s now just down to the final few things before it goes off to my client.
I am doing my best, in other words. Sometimes I get quite frustrated. (Actually, most of the time.) This is not what I’d hoped for, and not what my father wanted for me, and definitely not what anyone who knows me now and is still alive (including my family) wants either. Yet it’s where I am, and all I can do is my best with the circumstances I’ve got and go from there.
Tomorrow is Veteran’s Day in the US, as probably most of you know. My father was a Navy veteran, as was my late husband, Michael. I have cousins who’ve served, and many friends, along with an ex-husband (he was in the Army, back in the day). I respect people greatly who have served their country, and I appreciate what they’ve done to make this country a better place.
There’s still lots of upheaval going on around me because of governmental issues and strains, too. Everything seems to be in flux, not just me and my living situation.
I wonder sometimes if I am in the wrong place, doing the wrong things, and that I am so far off the track meant for my life (which was to be a college music teacher and performer before my poor health and finances got in the way), there’s no way for me to find my way back.
That said, I’ve done what I thought was best. I’ve helped people as I’m able and will continue to do that as long as I live. I’ve taught myself editing, and am good at it. I write, and always will write, whatever suits me: nonfiction, poetry, fiction, you name it, I can write it and probably have. I’ve used my musical talents in ways I hadn’t expected, but they have been used…and if my health gets any better, perhaps I’ll be able to use them again. (I’d still like to visit France and/or Spain someday, as that’s where classical alto saxophonists are most appreciated.)
So, while I’m battling depression, as I said before, I am still alive. So long as I’m alive, there’s at least some hope for better. I am looking for that hope, while also doing what I can to find my own, independent place to live. (It’s easier to help others when you have a place that’s truly yours where you can retreat to, as needed. A sanctum santorum, in other words. I haven’t had that now in any way, shape, or form for over three months.)
I battle the thought that I’ve failed (all of my novels right now need to be republished, as the rights have reverted back to me and are no longer for sale; unfortunately that’s on the back burner unless/until I can find a place of my own). I battle the thought that Michael might be unhappy with me (though really, I can’t see why he would be; he always thought I was too hard on myself, and this is probably just another of those times). I battle the thought that my maturity and experience may not matter in a world filled with so much automation and the flirtations with AI. I also battle my health, as anyone who’s spent any time here knows…but all I can do is my best.
This is my mantra right now: All I can do is my best.
Maybe that’s how it is always for everyone. But this sense of it being crisis city all the time is hard to live with, and I hope it’ll be alleviated soon. (No disrespect to my family member who took me in, either. That was not easy and I appreciate it greatly. It’s just that I am frustrated with this…and really do need a sanctum santorum of my own for creative reasons.)
So, that’s the update, such as it is.
How are you all doing? (Hopefully better than I am, but at least if you’re alive and kicking, that counts.) Do let me know, if you’re able…I would appreciate it greatly.
21st Street Culver’s, You’ve Disappointed Me for the Last Time (A Rant)
Folks, a couple of weeks ago, I went to the Culver’s restaurant (the 21st Street location in Racine, for those of you in Southeastern Wisconsin or Northern Illinois). Most of the time, Culver’s gets its orders correct, and most of the time when it doesn’t, it has tried to make it right.
Except…not this time.
I’d ordered fish, broccoli, and mashed potatoes for me, and burgers, plus another order of fish (also with broccoli and mashed potatoes) for my mother. The burgers were fine. No trouble whatsoever. But the fish was another story entirely, as were the “fixings.”
The broccoli was good. (Mom’s dog, little Brat, likes broccoli, and she enjoyed what I didn’t eat. Mind that I do like broccoli quite a bit, but two orders of it is just a bit much.) But the fish was all fat and almost no meat, and the mashed potatoes were crunchy. While there was some gravy on the potatoes, it didn’t help.
So, of the six pieces of fish, only two were of decent quality. One was of marginal quality. The other three were all fat, and by the time I got to my Mom’s, the restaurant had already closed so there was no point in calling them.
I was ill for a few days, so I had to wait to call them until nearly three days after I’d had this bad experience.
Now, here’s where my rant comes in. (You’ll understand why in a bit.)
If someone complains to you that the food was not right, and that the potatoes in particular were crunchy (not what you’re supposed to have with mashed potatoes), you shouldn’t be told, “You waited too long to let us know.”
But that’s what I was told.
In addition to the “you waited too long” comment, my experience and that of my mother was downgraded to “it must not have been that bad because you didn’t tell us right away,” and my asking them to please make sure other customers did not get crunchy mashed potatoes and/or fish that was all fat and no meat didn’t go anywhere. Something was wrong with the food preparation there, and I said so.
My concerns were not treated well. The manager I spoke to by phone was obviously young, but that’s no excuse. I had the feeling throughout my call that the manager thought I was a crackpot. (Or looney tunes. Or crazy. Pick your poison.) I didn’t like that. At all.
No customer deserves to be treated the way I was. It’s just not right.
Anyway, back to the phone call. I tried one more time, explaining to this same guy that I often went to this particular Culver’s because the burgers are great. I stopped there several times a month, and occasionally more than once a week. Mostly the food was good. But that doesn’t mean I should just shut up when the food is terrible, and I wasn’t about to do that.
There was no resolution to my call. The manager basically blew me off.
Then, I wrote to Culver’s using their email submission form. But I heard nothing, absolutely nothing, back from them, either. And that just made me madder.
Do these people think I have all day to sit around writing emails and calling them about bad food and poor service from the manager after a complaint? Do they honestly believe I’d just make this crap up? When I’d been a regular customer for years?
So that’s where I’m at. I do not like being condescended to, and I really don’t like my observations being thrown out the window because “it’s three days too late.”
Since this Culver’s did not do anything to make this right, my only recourse is to not go there anymore. And furthermore, I wrote this blog to let others know in this area that they might want to avoid this Culver’s, as the management staff obviously doesn’t care at all what happens to their customers.
There are two other Culver’s restaurants in Racine County that I’m aware of, and if I really need to go there (or my Mom wants her favorite burgers again), I’ll be going to one of those two and leaving the 21st Street location alone. I’ve never had bad experiences at either one of those and am at least willing to give them a chance.
But 21st Street? Nope. Never again.
The upshot here is, the 21st Street Culver’s should’ve known better than this. No matter when someone complains, it’s likely they had a real problem if they still remember it three days later. (I wish I’d have taken photos of the crunchy potatoes. I didn’t think of it at the time. I’m not sure the fish would’ve been able to be seen, but those potatoes…yikes.) Especially when someone like me, who often stops there and has for years, complains about something odd like this, they should not be condescended to, and they definitely should not be treated as if they don’t matter.
I have no idea what happened to my comments at the email submission form. But at this point, I don’t care. I’m really upset with this Culver’s location, and I do not plan to go back there ever again.
Take this as a public service, folks. If you live in this area, avoid that Culver’s. They don’t know how to treat customers. And the food will likely not be up to par.
Weather, Driving, and Other Updates
Folks, while I’m glad it got a little warmer today, I didn’t need it to be as humid. It was our first truly warm day of the year, and might’ve hit 80 F, but it felt worse due to the humidity.
The weather forecasters say that tomorrow, we should have heavy rain. I think that’s sensible. We’ve had a bunch of colder weather that’s reminded me more of March than May (and now, early June), and in a way, maybe it’s a good thing.
OK, in some ways, it’s not. My arthritis is worse in cold and humid weather than it is in warm and humid weather, though any humidity will set it off. I also have to say I don’t enjoy frost warnings in the middle of May, nor did I like seeing my father’s prized orange tiger lilies start to bloom, only to wither due to the frost warning a few weeks ago. (Explanation: It is a perennial, yes, but most likely I will not be in my father’s house that much longer. Assuredly, I won’t be here next year to see them without some sort of financial miracle.)
But the reason I said it might be a good thing is that many times, in mid-May, I start thinking about when Michael started seriously preparing to get to me, so we could get married in mid-June. He actually got there around June 7, back in 2002…so of course, this week, especially with the heat and humidity, I’ve been thinking a lot about that.
Later this month, I’ll be celebrating twenty-three years since the day Michael and I married. That’s always a bittersweet day on the calendar. I start thinking about how wonderful it was to be with him, even though we didn’t get that much time together…and then I start thinking about other men who aren’t as good still being alive, and wondering why.
For example, when men cuss out the grocery cashier around me, I wonder why they’re alive. Obviously, they have no interest in common courtesy, and they’re modeling bad behavior for their own children (the last two guys who did this had kids in tow, presumably their own).
I also wonder when I see bad drivers do stupid things on the road. I recently was driving home from my Mom’s, and someone ran a red (I had the green) and burned rubber speeding down the road. If I hadn’t stopped, or at least not started to accelerate, I would’ve been T-boned. And as I said, the guy clearly had a red light.
The good thing in this particular case is that the police were right there. They got that guy.
I also saw something a few weeks ago that I may have not blogged about before. I was driving close to a local cemetery that’s known for having geese and ducks in its pond. It was dusk. I had someone tailgating behind me even though I’d just left a stoplight, and they were less than a foot behind me. Ducks were crossing, and at first, because it was dusk, I didn’t see them. I swerved, and I still don’t know how I avoided them. (Picture five or six ducks. Two adults, probably Mama and Papa, on each side of a bunch of ducklings.) The driver tailgating also swerved, so no ducks nor ducklings were hurt.
I have to say, though, I put my head in my hand at the next stoplight. I knew how close to an accident that had been. I would’ve had to choose to hit the ducks rather than getting hit squarely by someone going at least fifteen miles over the posted speed limit of thirty-five MPH, and I hate hitting wildlife.
Anyway, June is a tough month for me. It’s in many ways the best month I ever had, if you go back to 2002. It’s also been a very quiet, difficult, and frustrating month since Michael died.
I think Michael would be happy that I’m still trying my best to write, to edit, and deal with my health. (That rash on my back is still here, BTW, and is no better. It’s quite frustrating.) Editing has been slow. Writing has been almost nonexistent. But I am trying, and I haven’t given up.
Michael used to say that I shouldn’t let anyone put me down, including myself. (He said this because I’m known to be extremely hard on myself.) He was big on emphasizing the positives if at all possible; otherwise, he used the Buddhist trick I’ve told you about before, where he let himself feel whatever stress was going on — money, work, car issues, health, you name it — for five minutes or so, then he’d say, “OK, self, I’ve felt that. Now let’s get on.” (He’d not put it quite that way. That’s my way of putting it. But the sentiment is true.)
So, I’m trying to use that Buddhist trick as best I can, even though I’m not a Buddhist. It helps some, at least some of the time.
Today’s good news is that my favorite baseball team, the Milwaukee Brewers, have as of tonight won eight games in a row. In addition, outfielder and designated hitter Christian Yelich was the Player of the Week last week due to his excellent play.
Other than that, I’m alive, trying my best.
Hope you all are doing as well as possible. (Let me know in the comments, if you feel up to it.)
Why I’ve Not Blogged Lately…
Folks, the past several months have hit me hard. There have been several “sadiversaries” (AKA sad anniversaries), in a row, and it’s been almost unbearable sometimes to deal with all the grief, mourning, and frustration.
That’s just a fact.
In addition, one of the sadiversaries was the first anniversary of my father’s passing last year. My entire family had trouble with this; it was not just me, not in any way, shape, or form. When the day of observance came, in some ways I didn’t know what to do with myself.
See, going back into June, there was my wedding anniversary, which was possibly the happiest day of my life. Still, when you have had far more years without your husband’s physical presence than you did with, it can be hard to see any of the remaining happiness.
Then there was my husband’s birthday, which he never observed. (As previously stated here at my blog and elsewhere, Michael believed far more in every other day of the year. He’d rather celebrate 364 days than just one.) Yet I observed it…while I never got along with his mother, and never got a chance to meet his father (as Michael’s father died before I met him), the fact is that if they hadn’t met and married, Michael would never have been here at all. I felt that day was worthy of commemoration, and while Michael was alive I would treat it much the same as any other day, you have to understand something: I was so ecstatic to be with Michael, the man I loved, the man I married, the man who understood me…every day was like Christmas, New Year’s, July 4th, or any other holiday that you might wish to observe.
Getting past those two things wasn’t easy. But then there was my birthday, which went surprisingly well this year, followed by the anniversary of Michael’s passing in September. As it’s been a rough couple of years, I couldn’t help but wish I still could feel Michael’s arms around me, and hear his voice tell me it would be all right so long as we had each other. (Anything else could be surmounted, you see. We’d proven that.)
Then came the anniversary of Dad’s passing a few weeks ago. And it’s like something inside me just refused to keep going for a bit.
I think that’s part of the reason why I’ve been sick, physically ill, far more often than I’ve been well in the past few years. While my health was never as robust as it could’ve been, there’s been a marked downturn in some ways of energy, maybe because I’ve had a lot of responsibilities and not too much in the way of fun or entertainment.
See, we don’t live by bread alone. We need other things to season that bread with, or to put on the bread so it tastes better. Salt, pepper, olive oil, butter…you name it, any of those things will make bread taste better, especially if you combine a few. (Such as peppered butter. Yes, that’s a thing.) Yet in my case, I’ve been on subsistence rations for many years now.
I refuse to put on a false face for anyone, because I feel it detracts from my energy, my strength, and my sense of purpose. The way I do my best is to present myself as a hard-working, put-together woman who is trying her damnedest to overcome a difficult series of obstacles. I do that because that is my truth.
I worry, though, because we have AI now, and they aren’t paying writers what they should — or even anything at all — for scooping up their work and training the AIs in the vagaries of human behavior. (At least, this is what it seems from the outside.)
Another problem I’ve been dealing with over the past several months is the physical pain brought on by osteoarthritis throughout my body, along with fibromyalgia flare ups. This saps my strength further, because pain does that. (Then again, as one of Lois McMaster Bujold’s characters says, what golden moments can you wring from life despite the pain? Still working on that one.)
I also worry because I had a very weird experience with someone recently. I thought we were getting to know each other, as friends, and I enjoyed having someone to talk with at the odd hours I have to discuss anything…someone new helped for a while, because I worry that I put too much on my long-term friends as it is. (Sometimes it’s harder to stand and watch as your friend flails than it is to actually do the flailing. Or at least I’m willing to postulate that as possible, maybe even probable.) I looked forward to discussing things with this person, until the day came where I was asked for money — and not just, “Can I borrow $20?”
See, this individual may or may not have been telling me the truth. But one thing I did know was that what was being proposed — me paying bills for them that I’d supposedly get reimbursed for later, all because the account he had was frozen — was a well-known scam. Maybe there’s someone out there who has this real problem, but if he or she does, they need to realize only their long-term friends with a very, very long baseline of knowledge about said person and their life experiences is going to be able to do any good.
What I ended up doing was, I said if the finances were so terrible, it was time to go to the state and ask for help. (Supposedly this person’s son was very ill. The details I’d heard were correct, too. Some con games are far more successful when there’s something true about them, though.) Or go to the hospital and/or clinics the son was being treated at and ask to have bills reduced through community/charity care. (This is a real thing, so if you ever get in a financial bind in the US, ask for help.) Further, I pointed out St. Jude’s Hospital for Children in Indiana, as this person said he was from downstate Illinois — not very far away from Indiana! — and said they were a possibility to bring their sick child to in order to get care. St. Jude’s takes no money from parents; they raise money via donation, in the belief that sick children need care regardless of how much, or even if, their parents can pay at all — and they’re right.
Then I blocked the individual.
I tell you all this for one reason: it’s been a huge stressor on top of other huge stressors. Something that started out as fun chit-chat ended up as that (someone who wanted something from me that I could not provide), and it made me feel like I was just a piece of meat or something. (Shades of Lady Gaga’s “meat dress” from years ago.)
So, that’s why I haven’t blogged in a while. I’ve been trying to get through what seems like a minefield that, while not necessarily filled with active mines, definitely was filled with quicksand (to pull me under), molasses (to keep me stuck), and a whole lot of trepidation.
I don’t know how I’m going to get through this stretch of time. But I figured I’d at least come here and let you know — whoever is still reading, or will read this whenever they see it and are bored (or whatnot) — that I am alive.
Frustrated, but alive.
Angry, but alive.
Tired out of my mind, wishing for a good thing to happen somewhere, somehow…but alive.
My only thought now is this: I hope you all are being good to yourself and your loved ones, and are treating each other the way you, yourselves, want to be treated.
Despite everything, I still believe that is the best strategy to go through life. Treat each other with respect, dignity, and try to find the good in people…or at least try not to spread vitriol, as I’ve said so many times before.
I hope I’m not just shouting into the void, now, with this blog. But if I am, at least I tried…picture me ruefully chuckling at that, because I’d rather try and fail than just refuse to do anything at all.
Let me know how you all are doing, OK? And if you have had something good happen that made you smile, tell me about it in the comments. (Please?)
Life, Prayers, Friends, Frustration, and Futility
I know I haven’t blogged in a bit, but the last few weeks around Chez Caffrey have been hectic, to say the least. I’ve been hip-deep in one edit, chin-deep in another (don’t ask), have nearly completed a third edit, restarted a fourth edit…and carved out a bit of fiction writing time for myself, too. (Not as much as I wanted. Not as much as I would’ve liked. But some.)
And, of course, I have had all the usual Real Life Issues (TM) to deal with, too.
Sometimes, I feel utterly frustrated. I want to be able to do more. I only have so much energy; it’s a finite amount, and some days it seems like it’s trickling away without my notice. There’s only twenty-four hours in a day, and it seems like I need at least twenty-six to get everything “normal” done (I know; define normal). That’s before writing, of course, so if you add in writing, along with music composition (which has taken a back seat the last few weeks as well), I’d probably need at least thirty-two hours in a day to do everything I feel I must do.
Which, of course, is flat-out impossible.
Because of the recent “sadiversary” observance (which I’ve discussed elsewhere here at my blog), too, I have been reminded of how much faith my late husband Michael had in me. He believed my writing, my music, and my music composition all mattered. He wanted me to succeed, to thrive, to be happy, and to be creative (not necessarily in that order).
I wonder, sometimes, how much I’ve managed to do in this regard. Life gets in the way. There isn’t enough of me, and there are way too many different things that must needs doing, stat…then add in the fact that a couple of my friends are in major distress right now, plus another one is watching his spouse die by inches and can’t do anything except be by her side as she no longer recognizes him…well.
Frankly, I have felt extremely frustrated over it all. I have wondered if life is just a futile thing, because there are so many things I can’t do and so many things I wish I could do (such as restore my friend’s wife to health). I believe we, as human beings, are striving toward something — empathy, creativity, passion, purpose, maybe all of it? — and yet we face so much frustration along the way.
Is it worth it?
I think so, or I wouldn’t be here now, blogging about it. I believe life is not only is worth it, but it matters so much, so intrinsically, that it’s nearly impossible to plumb the depths of just how much it matters.
That said, there are moments where I wish I could do a whole lot more than I am. There are moments where I wish, just for one moment, I could hear my husband Michael tell me that yes, what I’ve done makes sense, and yes, what I’m doing makes sense, too, and yes, what matters is that I’ve given it my best effort.
As I’ve always done. Yes.
He knew that, about me. And he knew that about life, too.
Some say that life is all about the journey. I think that’s only part of it. Yes, we journey along, and yes, we learn things on our own journeys, too. But it’s also about figuring out what’s important to you, and how to go about doing those things while pulled in seemingly a million different directions.
So. I’ve felt frustrated, and wondered if life matters, and thought about futility for the past week-plus. (Yes, some of this would’ve come up because of the “sadiversary” observance. But I think much of the rest has come about due to my friends’ various struggles, and my wishes that I could ease their burdens in some way as it doesn’t seem like I’ve been able to do a lick of good in any regard.)
What do you do when you feel frustrated? What do you do when you think everything is just futile, or pointless, or just not worth it?
I know what I do is go on. I put one foot in front of the other, do my best not to fall, and just keep going. Even if the direction doesn’t seem right, and even if sometimes I need a course correction or two, I just keep on keepin’ on.
But before I go, I would like to ask a favor. Please, if you have energy to spare this week, pray for my friends. Pray because they are good people who need good things to happen rather than the bad things that have accumulated over the past few months (months that have seemed like decades, at least to me). Pray because no one deserves to feel so terrible for so long. Pray because human beings should care about one another.
I’ve never asked this before, and I may never ask it again. But I need to ask it now, as way too many of the people I find meaningful and wonderful in my life are struggling. I can’t do much to help other than listen, which of course I’ve done…and pray, which I have been doing for a while. My prayers, however, do not seem to be anywhere near enough to positively affect the outcome.
That’s why I chose to blog today and to discuss all this difficult stuff. I want to help my friends, dammit; I want, somehow, to give comfort to them, and the feeling that their lives aren’t hopeless or meaningless or worthless.
Does anyone else feel this way? If so, tell me in the comments. Please.
Time to Heal…
Folks, I’m glad to finally be able to tell you that I think I’m on the mend.
Note that I said “I think,” because I’ve had health reversals before. Still, I am hopeful that I’m not speaking too soon, as I now have antibiotics and steroids and feel much clearer of mind. (Thus, the hope is that I’ll be sounder of body soon as well.)
How did this happen? Well, yesterday I marched into urgent care, and told ’em that I felt like I was getting weaker and weaker, and sicker and sicker. I also had a temperature, which is very rare for me; it was 99.8 F when I went in there and it was 99.4 on the way out. As my normal temp is lower than most people’s, this was almost shocking. (To them as well, as they’ve seen me a lot in the last two years.)
I have another sinus infection.
It’s frustrating that this one got so bad, especially since I’ve been trying to take care of my health. I did call my doctors, but every single one said I needed someone else to make the call. Only the ENT doctor was willing to try to get me an appointment, and he didn’t have one until after the first of the year. (I took it.)
That said, I now have medication that has helped — after only one day — to clear my mind significantly, as I said before.
The other problem I had yesterday was that my phone’s battery was low even though I’d charged it before leaving the house. I was supposed to take my mother to a dental appointment. She needed this. Unfortunately, I had zero bars, and the phone was just barely working. Text takes less energy than a phone call, so I sent her several texts.
And, of course, she did not get them in a timely manner.
I feel very bad about this. But I don’t think I could have done anything else.
She did call me, but I was waiting for medication at that time and the phone was still low battery anyway. I didn’t see that she’d actually called until I got back home and was charging the phone. At that point I called and left her a voicemail.
That I was not able to help my mother saddens me greatly. That I couldn’t reach her due to technical problems to do with my very old phone (at least eight years old, and a flip-phone; the cellular carrier has said it must be upgraded next year) is extremely frustrating.
I don’t blame her for being furious.
Anyway, that is all I know. (Time to heal, I guess.)
Have you ever been failed by technology? Or had to work through months of illness? Tell me about it in the comments! (I hope you’re reading out there…)
Today’s Shout Into the Void (AKA “the Pandemic Blues”)
Folks, when I don’t know what to say, I turn to “shouting into the void.” This reminds me that even if my words are not understood, much less heard, they still have value.
That seems paradoxical, doesn’t it? (Maybe it is.)
It can be hard to reach a certain age, as a woman. People ignore you. They look right past you. They don’t see you.
But I am here, whether they see me or not. I’m here, and doing what I can, whether anyone else understands it, or not. I’m able to exert my influence — such as it is — on this blog, and point out that every life has value and worth.
I don’t know if you’re like me, and sometimes feel invisible. (Or at best, visible, ignorable, and misunderstood.) But I do know that the stories I write best are the ones where folks who’ve always felt like misfits find their homes and families (not necessarily their families of birth, either; these are their families of the heart).
The heroes and heroines I’ve come up with often felt ignorable, isolated, looked past, misunderstood, and frustrated.
Maybe it’s just this lengthy pandemic, but I’m tired of being misunderstood, ignored, looked past, and frustrated.
One of my best friends told me lately that she believes I should remember that writing is fun, and enjoy what I’m doing. Don’t stress so much about low word-counts. Don’t worry so much that my energy — which has been sapped by the lengthy pandemic, among other things — isn’t able to be consistently applied to writing, either.
Her message was very simple: Do what you can, as you can. And don’t forget who you are.
She also went on to point out that my illnesses — fibromyalgia among them — do not define me. They may limit me, at times. But they are not the sum total of all I am, much less all that I will ever be.
At any rate, my hope is that my blogging does some good for someone, somewhere, even if is to point out that they, alone, aren’t the only person in the world who’s struggling.
Thus concludes today’s shout into the void.
Friday Oddities…and a Brewers Playoff Series Starts
Folks, it’s Friday. And as this week has been full of odd things, I figured I’d mention a few of ’em before getting to the main event (that being the Milwaukee Brewers playoff series, starting today).
A few days ago, I got an “urgent alert” warning me to stay in my home due to heavy police presence in the area. It turned out that I was on the far edge of this, and the police presence was due to a federal agent getting shot while serving a warrant. I didn’t see any extra police, but followed the updates on my computer once I figured out what was going on.
Anyway, these things do not happen often in my neck of the woods. I did find it strange, and I hope the federal agent will recover promptly. (Last I read, the agent was in stable condition. The person being served the warrant apparently committed suicide.)
Next, my Malwarebytes software decided that my own blog was spam. I had a Hell of a time getting in, to the point I seriously thought about uninstalling Malwarebytes. (It had the nerve to say “lightly trafficked websites run the risk of blah blah blah, blah blah blah.” I felt like pitching my computer out the window.) I had to tell it five times that I wanted to continue to the site before I could get in here, and every time it did the same, damned thing.
Anyway, the good oddity — if you can call it that, considering they’ve been to the playoffs now four years running — is that the Milwaukee Brewers are playing the Atlanta Braves today in the National League playoffs. This Brewers team is known for its pitching far more than its hitting, as it has the NL’s ERA leader (for lowest amount of earned runs per nine innings pitched) in Corbin Burnes along with two other starting pitchers who’d probably be aces for most of the other teams in Brandon Woodruff and Freddy Peralta. They also have an outstanding closer in Josh Hader, and many other good relievers, besides. The Braves team is more traditionally balanced, and definitely has more hitters with playoff experience than do the Brewers.
I’m hoping the Brewers will play very well, that they’ll hit surprisingly well, and that their pitching will perform up to standard. If so, it should be an exciting series, and fun to watch for this fan.
Anyway, what’s going on for you on this Friday? (I hope you haven’t been having to deal with the same crap as I have with regards to getting Malwarebytes to recognize my own blog as a safe and protected site, mind you.) Let me know in the comments!
2021 Baseball Oddities, or, The Baseball Curmudgeon’s Rant
Folks, it’s no secret that I am a huge baseball fan.
I have followed the Brewers almost since their inception in 1970. (I was quite young, but I remember Hank Aaron’s final games as a Brewer in 1976.) They have never won the World Series, but they have played in one (in 1982); they have come close, since switching to the National League, to getting to the World Series again, but have not actually gotten there. I say all this to explain why I am so irritated with 2021’s version of Major League Baseball (MLB).
First, there are the rules changes that happened last year during the height of the Covid-19 crisis. These are meant to shorten games, which made sense then — but doesn’t, now, considering there is a vaccine — and they are profoundly vexing.
What are they, and why do they frustrate me so much? Simple.
It used to be, in extra innings, that no one started on base to start the inning. This made sense. An extra inning was just like every other inning, and of course no one should be on base when they haven’t gotten a hit or taken a walk or gotten hit by a pitch, or any number of other legal baseball plays that would put them on base in a normal fashion.
But now, there’s a rule that starting in the tenth inning in normal games that the last person who made an out in the ninth inning gets to stand on second base. If that person scores. it’s an unearned run against the pitcher.
That rule reminds me of Little League.
Remember, these are MLB players. They are used to the grind of a 162-game season. They do not need to start on second base to shave off time from a game now that there is a vaccine.
But that’s not the worst rule.
The worst rule is that if a doubleheader is now played, the game will only be seven innings long.
Yep. You saw that right. Only seven innings.
That means that the eighth inning is when that stupid rule about putting someone on second base who doesn’t belong there and shouldn’t be there happens in a doubleheader. It also means that someone can pitch a complete game (which up until now was defined as a full, nine-inning game unless shortened by weather or other problems) and only go seven innings.
This reminds me of preschool ball, before the kids even get to Little League.
Again, these are pro players we’re talking about, used to the grind of a full season of baseball. They don’t need games to be shortened to only seven innings, and they definitely don’t need to start putting people on second base if they’re going to insist on that stupid rule until the tenth inning.
As a fan, these things irritate me quite a bit, as I’m sure you’ve figured out. But I have one, final piece of news to impart that’s even more infuriating than that.
I walk with a cane. I say this because I am considered to be a disabled person.
How does this relate, you ask? Well, in 2020, major league baseball decided to change the name of the list of players who can’t play from the disabled list (DL) to the injured list (IL).
Did they really think I can’t tell the difference between me, a truly disabled person, and someone who went on the DL?
To my mind, changing it was the height of political correctness. And it did not need to be done, at all.
So, to reiterate: we now have three different changes in MLB since last year. None of them make any sense in 2021. I definitely do not like any of them. And I wish they’d change them back.
P.S. The other night, I was frustrated when the Brewers lost, 6-1, in 11 innings to the St. Louis Cardinals. My mother and I had watched the game in its entirety together. The announcers, who were fill-ins from the usual pair of Brian Anderson and Bill Schroeder, didn’t seem to understand that we and other fans had actually watched the whole game, and reiterated that the Cards had scored five runs in the top of the 11th several times before we even got to the bottom of the 11th.
I actually wrote in to the Brewers Facebook page to say how upsetting this was to both me and my mother.
I mean, I can count to five. Can’t everyone?
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