Might be a mid-year crisis (June mini-rants thread)

I would like to have a filter for my news feed that blocks the following:

Any headline with the word “ranked,” like “The 10 Best Science Fiction/Fantasy Novels, Ranked.” Who the fuck thinks they’re qualified to rank them? Have they read every SF/F novel in existence? Are they qualified book reviewers, or somebody who got paid $15 for knowing how to fill out a web template? Is it some kind of random Facebook poll that chronically overestimates its own importance?

Any headline that ends with ?, like “Joe Blow To Retire Soon?” Just because you dedicated two minutes to reading tweets that are limited to 280 characters and are thus devoid of context doesn’t mean you made the Scoop of the Century. Congratulations, somebody paid you $15 to get more clicks. Go buy more Cheetos.

Or any headline with a number in it: “We Found Seven Time-Wasters You’re Doing Right Now!”, “Thirteen Ways To Appear Taller”, and who could resist clicking on “Forty-Seven Proven Strategies to Win at Go Fish!”…?

Someone who works at the dispensary with us tested positive for Covid last week after being out sick with symptoms.

This is the first person I’ve known firsthand who has joined the ranks of The Infected, but I have a small social circle. I tested negative a couple of weeks ago, and am debating going again, I guess?

On an unrelated note, fuck those assholes who generously share their musical taste with everyone for a two-mile radius while driving, or idling, their Thumpmobiles. Two a.m. or two p.m. doesn’t matter to them, or to me. They are the number one reason I’ll never allow myself to own a gun. The temptation to open a window and take them out sniper style is way too tempting!

Soooo, we can’t get in trouble for pitching in and gifting you a Noise Abatement Accessory, can we?

Here’s the thing people don’t get.

It would be really nice to get a diagnosis and to find something that might help. But

  1. This is not an episode of House or any other TV show. A diagnosis does not mean I will be magically cured. It is very unlikely to be that simple.
  2. At this stage, and for quite a long time now, if I were to find a genie and he gave me one wish. It wouldn’t be “Make me healthy.” It would be “Make it stop.” It doesn’t even matter if there is any hope, be it a fantasy or not, that I could get better. I just want it to be over.

it seems like every single day there’s something else I can’t do. I can’t hold my camera up to take pictures. I can’t draw. I can’t even sit on the couch. I just spent a little while googling snap-on or side-zip pants because I’m very quickly approaching the stage where I can’t go to the bathroom without help and I literally do not know what I’ll do then. I don’t have a spouse or a parent or anyone close enough to me that it would be remotely reasonable to ask them to help me with that EVER.

This is exhausting and I’m just done. I’m not going to be able to go back to my job, the job I love, the job I lived for and that gave me purpose. What friends I have left don’t treat me like friends- I have people who are kind to me and will help me with things, but no gossip or jokes or wild plans or deep thoughts or just hanging out. I just can’t anymore. When is enough enough? Because I know it has been for me for a long time. I’m 29, not 98. I don’t think I have another two months of this left in me, never mind another 50 years or whatever.

SurrenderDorothy, I tried to send you a PM, not really sure where it ended up.
If you don’t see it, it was filled with lots of {{{{{hugs}}}}} and love. Please take care,
-Wallet-

[quote=“purplehorseshoe, post:123, topic:854887, full:true”]On an unrelated note, fuck those assholes who generously share their musical taste with everyone for a two-mile radius while driving, or idling, their Thumpmobiles. Two a.m. or two p.m. doesn’t matter to them, or to me. They are the number one reason I’ll never allow myself to own a gun. The temptation to open a window and take them out sniper style is way too tempting!
[/quote]
The gun I’d like to have (even though it probably doesn’t exist) will be able to deliver a precision destructive EMP to the offending sound system.

Apologies if this sounds clueless, but I’m a people and I don’t get it. You are so physically weak that you can no longer raise your camera, but you won’t try to get diagnosed because there’s no guarantee that a diagnosis will lead to a cure?

I’m almost positive that I’m missing some key information here.

I am in the (long, soul-crushing, extremely expensive) process of trying to find a diagnosis. It’s just that people keep telling me everything’s going to be okay if I can just put a name on it and… I mean, it’s really unlikely. Some improvement, maybe. Some slowing of progression, maybe. Will it amount to getting any real quality of life back? Like realistically, not in “pray to Jesus for a miracle” world or “I saw a guy on Instagram who went vegan and…” world? It depends on how low your bar is.

I had thought earlier that telling the kids and husband outright, “Hey, I need to work. PLEASE DO NOT INTERRUPT ME UNLESS YOU ACTUALLY NEED SOMETHING,” might serve as a way to maybe not get interrupted. But today is a fucking nightmare.

This morning before I even started work, my husband decided that we should chat for 45 minutes about our retirement funds, which are important, but for fuck’s sake, couldn’t we have talked about this last night? Was it really necessary to make me late logging into work? And did I actually have to physically be present to watch your selections, then talk you down after?

Afterward I assumed that yay! I’d get to have breakfast while I worked. But I wound up staring sadly at my food, which was getting colder by the second, while comforting my 10 year old until my next call, which kicked off another 2 hours of calls and ended with my breakfast in the trash because I actually had to talk most of the time.

Fast forward through 7 more interruptions related to the internet (remember, overly, the guy’s coming at 11. He’s coming okay, let me know when he gets here. By the way, he’s showing up at 11. Oh, he’s here. Are you online? Is it okay if you’re offline? What about now? Can I reset the router? Did it work? Oh, did you know there’s a crack in the driveway? When can you call the guy? Why do you want me to call him? What questions should I ask? Can you go with me outside now while you’re eating lunch to see the crack?), my daughter’s meltdown about not having anything to do, then needing help when she found something to do, having to make lunch for every fucking person in this goddamn household while on multiple calls, then getting interrupted 11 times in a 12-minute timespan and I’m frothing at the goddamn mouth. I hate everything, everyone can go fuck themselves and I swear to god if someone asks for me snacks, help, to call the driveway guy, the internet guy, the appliance repair guy, lunch, retirement advice or to make sure it’s okay to go for a bike ride I will go fucking postal.

I’m going to stand in a corner and calm down now before my next call. If I’m lucky I’ll get lunch sometime.

@overlyverbose, might I suggest the following two scripts?

  1. When your children come to bother you, tell them, “I’m working now. Go talk to your father.”
  2. When your husband comes to bother you, tell him, “I’m working now. Talk to me after [quitting time].”

Don’t say anything else. Don’t give an explanation, an excuse, or an apology. Keep repeating it until they go away, although if you have a space set aside as an office, telling them “OUT! NOW!” before or after the script is possibly a good idea.

Once the day is over, tell them that you meant it when you told them they could not interrupt you when you are working and that from now on those are the only responses you will give during the work day. Then stick to it.

Sidenote: not sure what to suggest about comforting one of the kids. Sometimes Only Mommy Will Do. But I’d still suggest calling your husband in and telling him that he has to take care of his child right now, because you are working. (Of course, that only works if he isn’t working, too, but from the sound of it he isn’t. I can’t recall if you’ve said, though.)

Good luck. It sounds maddening. Everyone gets to step on your time and your nerves as if what you need isn’t important. It should be.

Thanks for the suggestions. Unfortunately my husband is working but we have pretty different schedules and some days he surfaces from the basement more frequently than others. :slight_smile:

I’m feeling okay-er now. Everyone seems to have found something to do - I’m just trying to get my breathing to chill out and I’m waiting until I come down before I eat, or I will seriously clean out the fridge.

As long as you’re doing okay. Over the years I’ve found that if I can imagine a situation and then come up with some pre-scripted responses, it helps me handle things better than trying to find a response in the middle of it. If you think about it while calm, you can at least sound more reasonable rather than as if you’re about to spout flames from the top of your head. :wink: :exploding_head:

Holy crap, that sounds like a nightmare. Is it worth it to book time in a remote office, so you’re just not there?

Or find an acquaintance who also works from home, and just trade houses every day?

My TV died last week so I ordered a new one online from Best Buy. I get the email today that I can come pick it up. Yay, right? Wrong. You have to use the Best Buy app to pick it up. I don’t have a smart phone so that’s out. I’ll just call the store. Nope, phone just rings, no answer. Online help? Not online at this time. Call customer service? Wait time is one hour, 45 minutes. Oh, for fucks sake. Looks like my only option is to make an appointment to meet someone at the store tomorrow, which defeats the whole purpose of curbside pickup. I should have just had the damn thing delivered but I thought pickup would be “easier”. :rage:

At this point, I would get a spray bottle and nail the offenders when they forget the rules.

Works for cats…

Exactly what I was going to suggest and why.

overly, a suggestion: might be worth it to change the phrasing from “Do not interrupt unless you actually need something” to “Do not interrupt unless you are bleeding, broken, or on fire.” That might help them understand what “actually need” means.

I finally got my pontoon boat in the water this past weekend. Most boaters are wearing their mask when going into the marina store or when walking to their boats. I saw a guy with a very nice mask; navy blue with a glittery ship’s anchor. I overheard him mention to someone that it cost $85.

Later I saw him discussing his fancy mask with another boater. He then took his mask off to show the person he was talking to the inside surface and he told the guy he could try it on if he’d like.

The dogs had a wonderful time on/in the water.

I’m having surgery in July, and I won’t be able to raise my arms over my head for six weeks. I also have like two hoodies and one button down shirt that currently fit, because I’ve lost a bunch of weight.

So now I need to buy a temporary upper body wardrobe and it’s pissing me off because, like, how the shit do I do that during a pandemic? Especially when I’d like to buy in bulk. Considering baseball shirts, because they look the most comfortable, particularly in August (wearing a hoodie in August seems like overkill).