This past week or so, my husband and I have been doing a sweep of our “life stuff”.  Trying to get all of our ducks in a row. Addressing everything from financial concerns, to health care, to the basic reorganization of our schedules.  Trying to re-organize our time, our budget, setting goals, etc.  My brain hurts.  Everytime we do this, I realize that maintaining a well-managed life is really full time job.  You have to go through your bills with a fine tooth comb, you have to read each and every line on credit card agreements, cell phone bills, school correspondence, car insurance papers, health care contracts, everything.   You have to be constantly aware of better deals out there for services, andbe constantly aware of when the “better deal” you just signed up for reverts to the “you’re screwed now deal” after the initial honeymoon period ends that sucked you in in the first place. 

Interest and Credit and Mortgage, Oh My!
Credit cards are a big albatross around our neck.  We have just completed, yet another restructuring of our debt.  Moving debt from varying interest rates to one rate that should save us a few bucks each month, but huge bucks in the long run.  Although, each time I plan for the long run, it somehow turns into a series of short runs.  Something always seems to come up totally screwing up the best laid plans.   Our home mortgage is one of those screw ups. 

You would think we would have this mortgage thing down, since we have two of them.  Our first mortgage is a VA mortgage, and the second mortgage, originally taken out to consolidate bills and make major home improvements.  Well, we did the improvements and finished them, just in time for the housing market to take a dive.  Now we must sit tight and wait to refinance the two together as our house, though improved, still does not appraise up for what we need it to.

We are combing over our natural gas supplier choices.  With all of the impending news about the rise in natural gas prices, and the winter ahead, we don’t want to get slammed with huge gas bills this winter.  There are so many choices, but I really don’t think it has helped as far as costs.  It has just created more back doors for hidden taxes and fees.  We can easily change to another company that charges substantially less for natural gas, yet we will get financially raped by the transportation costs of using another provider.  The same goes for the phone companies, both the land lines and the wireless providers.  Customers now have the option to bundle their services, potentially saving them a fair amount of money, yet they fail to advertise the installation costs, the cost of breaking any contracts that may already be in place, and also, the true cost after the special introductory offer.  You practically have to project out all of the costs for the entire year before you can calculate any significant savings or not. 

I need a Crystal Ball
Now, to add to all of the math involved, one also has to become a psychic of sorts.  Trying to predict any upcoming expenses, predicting what fuel prices may be, predicting if this recession is just beginning or if it will be thwarted early on.  Oh, and don’t forget taking care of yourself.  Eating right, exercise regularly, taking care of your family.

Throughout the years, I have never been very successful at long term projections.  Most likely the reason I am here today.  Even with my best guesses, I have been blindsided many times by unexpected expenses, divorce, car accidents, health issues,etc.

Who’s got that kind of time
Even with all this being said, I have always been able to manage my personal life reasonably.  Recently it has become more labor intensive, and much more time consuming.  Time is not an asset that I have ever experienced an abundance of.  Now, with companies trying to cut corners and piling more work on fewer workers, my job has begun to invade my personal space, leaving me less time to manage my personal schedule and my financial matters while both have become increasingly more complicated.

I smell smoke
I can’t even begin to imagine what my “retirement” years will be like.  I see myself working well past 65, while trying to understand the Medicare plans A,B,C, D… (and that depends if Medicare is still viable in twenty years, and if so, we may very well use the rest of the alphabet, complicating Medicare even further)  I can’t see myself trying to understand the supplemental policies or the tax laws as they apply to the elderly.  My brain is sizzling as it is now.  I can safely project that it will be completely fried by then. 

How has all this become so complicated?  Why do I need to spend more and more of my time pouring over bills, financial statements, insurance policies, health care policies?  I miss being able to go to the doctor and trusting his judgement on what specialist I need to see, rather than go home, make 10 phone calls….Are they in my network….do I need another opinion first…..do I need a different referral….  I want one phone company, one utility company, a health care plan who’s policy is smaller than a phone book, and for God’s sake, stop sending me credit offers at variable rates with the default rates of a loan shark.  Stop offering to give people money before they get paid.  (going to places like pay day loans is tantamount to kissing the ring of the Godfather and asking for a favor)

It used to be the only time you really had to beware of the fine print was when buying a home or reading the MSRP disclaimer when buying a car.  My filing cabinet at home is bulging at the seams with contracts in which the entire agreements are in fine print. Even sending in a warranty or rebate consists of jumping through countless hoops, then ,even if you jump through each and every one of them, it’s still up to you to follow up endlessly to make sure you get what’s coming to you.  

I need to take vacation time from work, and work at home as my personal assistant, reading, reorganizing, and re-assessing where my time and money is going. But, like my employers, I may just need continue to squeeze out more work from my one and only underpaid and overworked employee, me.

This document was prepared as a service to the Midlife Perspective reader community. Neither Midlife Perspective nor any of its employees, makes any warranty, expressed or implied, or assumes any legal liability or responsibility for the accuracy, completeness, or usefulness. The opinions of the authors expressed herein do not necessarily state or reflect those of Laurie’s husband, her children, or any other persons who generally have their shit together. These opinions are solely those of the author. (again, that would be me)

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I am a completely different person in the spring and summer than I am in the fall and winter. In the summer months, I have enthusiasm, energy, optimism of a normal person.  In the winter months, I feel tired, hopeless, and old. The weather forecast would directly mirror my moods.  Summer: sunny and pleasant, Winter: cold and dreary. This has been going on for 10 years or so, worsening with each year.  Two years ago, it was so bad, I was convinced I was experiencing clinical depression. 

At first I attributed it to perimenopause.  (Everyone knows once your hormones start flipping out, so do you) , but this wasn’t episodic, it was constant.  I was really depressed.  How did I know?  I used my own test of imagining how I would feel if I won the lottery.  I couldn’t even crack a smile.  I thought who cares, I just want to sleep.  Well, that armchair diagnosis was a wake-up call. 

I struggled the rest of the winter, then, as spring approached, things miraculously seemed better.  It was that following summer, that I purchased the light box. (which was much more affordable and practical then moving to a sunnier climate)  I used it for the first time last winter and what a difference.  I started getting up a half hour earlier every morning (it didn’t matter, it’s dark when I wake up normally) got ready for work, the sat with a cup of coffee under this light for about 30 minutes each day.  At first it seemed a little eerie.  The light is supposed to simulate sunlight, yet it’s white, kind of like fluorescent, but brighter, not the yellow light I associate with sun.  I was a bit skeptical. (of course I was, nothing happened after one day and patience is not one of my virtues)  But after a week, it wasn’t so much me that noticed a change, but my husband and kids, and even the people at work noticed.  (they probably thought I started drinking)  Now, this is not to say I suddenly turned into Miss Cheerful, but it was the little things. I was actually pleasant.  I would smile.  I was awake.  I was engaged in my life again. 

I felt like I had discovered some great drug.  Of course I tried to push it onto my husband and even my kids, but they didn’t need it.  They didn’t feel depressed, and none of them were willing to give up an additional 30 minutes of precious morning sleep.

Over the last couple of weeks, as it’s becoming increasingly dark in the mornings and evenings, I have been feeling lethargic and blah.  I have been meaning to start the “light” but have been putting it off for whatever reason.  But this is it.  I have to start tomorrow morning.  No more excuses.  I am sure that within a couple of weeks, even these posts will take on a more positive vibe.  I have to snap out this, and hopefully, if last year’s success is any measure, this winter should be a much happier one.

For more information on Seasonal Affective Disorder, see this site from the Mayo Clinic.  (also note; there are apparently different kinds of SAD, Winter SAD and Summer SAD.  Check out Summer SAD’s symptoms…weight loss and increased (yes, increased) sex drive?  Now that’s a form of depression I could live with)

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I thought I had one of the greatest divorces ever on record.  I was divorced in 1999 from my husband of 10 years and the father of both of my children.  The kids were young 7 & 8 years old.  I’m not saying it was easy, divorce never is.  But I thought we handled it well, relative to all of the horror stories one usually associates with divorce.  We didn’t use a lawyer, we went online and found a “generic” divorce agreement and edited it with all of our own personal information and agreements.  We went to court together, stood in front of the judge, was granted a divorce, and that was that.  (except for the fact that my family was unforgivably horrible to me during that time.  My own parents couldn’t accept the divorce, and pretty much adopted my husband and disowned me)  If not for that situation, it would have been almost painless.

We sold the house, split the profits, split up the debts, (for the most part).  The only thing my husband had a problem with was that he didn’t want to split his retirement.  I conceded that and gave up any claims to his pension and retirement.  I found a place to rent with the kids, and he moved back in with his parents.  He took the kids every other weekend,  we spoke almost daily regarding the kids.  I went to great pains to have the divorce seem as unobtrusive as possible for my children.  They never felt “funny” about talking about their dad, or calling him whenever they wanted.  It was almost as if we were still married, just living apart as far as the kids were concerned.  I kept his last name, even when I remarried and still today, so that my kids and I would have the same last name.  It was just as we had planned.  We both put our differences aside as far as the kids were concerned. 

Things went on like that for a while.  Even after I re-married, the kids never felt like they couldn’t talk about either of us in front of the other.  We really did try to keep things as “normal” for lack of a better term, as possible. 

Not everything in my opinion was “normal” though.  My ex was and still is very close to my parents.  Even when he had the kids on the weekends, he would usually spend weekends with my parents, and the kids would visit with their grandparents.  Like I said, it was almost as if we were still married, but we weren’t. 

In retrospect, perhaps we tried too hard.  My ex is still best friends with my dad.  (they just returned from a week long golfing trip together)  He is always at my folks house, even when I stop by, he’s always there.  I guess I don’t have a problem with that if it weren’t for the fact that he should be strengthening his relationship with the kids, not my parents.  Especially now that the kids are older. I fear he’s losing touch with them completely, now that visitation isn’t structured anymore.  It can’t be, they are in high school, working, extra-curricular activities.  They’re busy now.  I wish he would take the extra initiative to visit.  To get involved in their lives, instead he has let them slip away.  This is not what I intended.  But I fear this is exactly what I have enabled.   I made sure everything was going to be so “Dr. Phil” that I bent over backwards to accommodate everyone else.  No one had to adjust to anything.  I feel like I adjusted for them.  Now, I am regretting that somewhat.  The kids never call their dad for anything like rides, or a few bucks, or anything.  They treat him more like a nice Uncle, rather than a dad.  They feel anything they ask of him is a favor.  I really don’t know when this happened, but this is not what I had in mind.  I wanted them to annoy, irritate, depend on him, just like they do me.  That is how it should be.

Instead, my ex is like my brother in the respect that my parents treat him like their son, actually their favorite son.  I wouldn’t be surprised if he was named executor of their estate.  Somehow, I have become the stepchild in my own family. It’s crazy.  I don’t even know if this rant is making any sense to anyone.

The end result to all of this is that somehow I have lost a husband but gained a brother, my kids are losing a father and gaining an uncle and my parents have lost a son-in-law and gained a son.  Yes, it’s true my kids never had to experience the fighting or animosity between their parents, but they have experienced a slow, insidious shift in thinking.  Ultimately ending up with just one real parent, while the other is the nice uncle that will take them on vacation occasionally and call them once in a while.  I’m beginning to think my careful planning is not panning out quite as I had hoped. 

Now, I feel that if I state my concerns and stir the pot, I might bring on the strife for myself and my kids that I have been trying so desperately to avoid all these years.  My present husband says it’s just their father’s loss, that he’s missing out on the relationship with his children as they grow up, but it is also my kid’s loss.  Missing out on a relationship with their father during these important years. 

If I say something, my parents, my ex, and possibly my kids might be hurt, so instead I say nothing and just vent.  This is typical of many of the problems that are in my life.  Worrying about other people’s feelings, not making the necessary changes needed and just venting without action.  It all just makes me so tired.

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If any of you have read my previous post on meditation, you’ll notice that I still have a ways to go to get to the relaxed state I so desperately need.  I’ve been so hyped up at bedtime (I know the coffee in the evening doesn’t help but it allows me to get what I need done after work) I tried meditating again to the tapes, but I can’t seem to stay on the beach or other quiet place lately.  The last few nights I’ve tried something new.  I tried to let my mind wander somewhere I’ve been before.  Somewhere I felt safe and content, and it seems to be working.  I’m falling asleep faster, and I think I even have a smile on my face. 

So what am I thinking about?  I think about my childhood.  No specific ages.  Anywhere between age 5 and age 10.  Before homework, before puberty, before dating, before marriage, before kids,…before responsibilities of any kind. 

I think about rocking on a little rocking chair downstairs in our rec-room.  Listening to records on my Close-N-Play.

I think about playing with my friend across the street making shaker makers.

I think about spinning my little sisters uncontrollably on the sit-n-spin, then kicking them off and getting on it myself to see how fast I could spin. 

I think about klackers, those heavy glass marble like balls on the end of a string.  I called them click clacks, mine were purple.  They would be considered quite dangerous by todays standards. 

You could really hurt somebody with those.
I think about playing with my Gumby and Pokey and watching their television show (they were awesome).  

I think about the boys on my street riding their bigwheels. 

I remember playing freeze tag out on the street until dark. buying Bubs Daddy Gum and chewing the whole thing, watching the smaller kids on their Inchworms riding up and down their driveways.  The list goes on and on. Those really were carefree times.

I think I might have found the secret to ending my insomnia.  Simple memories of youth.  No complications, just carefree.  A real escape from stress.

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I basically am the IT department at my company.  I am the system administrator, the network administrator and the database administrator.  Then in my spare time, I am the research coordinator. 

At the review, you’re expected to throw around words like results-oriented, deadline driven and provide metrics of what you have accomplished while they throw words around like synergy and taking it to the next level.  Yuck!  Then they proceed to judge you, not on your actual job performance, (especially since they really have no idea what I actually do) Instead your performance is based on your attitude, how many times you wore jeans to the office, how many times you pop in to the partners offices, asking about their wives, their kids, and stroking their ego as they bore you with the details of their last big deal.  I’m not in sales.  I can’t do the “sales” thing here, I never could.  I’m the “IT guy”.  I’m not supposed to be the chit-chatty type.  

Oh, and did mgmt forget that we monitor unacceptable Internet usage?  Apparently so, since I will be defending my job performance to the married guy who spends half his days on Match.com and 2 others who regularly surf porn.

Personally, I can’t schmooze.  It’s not in my nature.  I wouldn’t give a second thought to my review if I were being evaluated on performance.  My job performance is excellent.  I’m good at what I do.  I know my job inside and out.  I have never failed to deliver on a deadline, I have never failed to deliver even the most outrageous expectations. The fact that all of our systems have never gone down, is a testament to the fact that I’m doing what I’m paid to do. We have had zero network downtime in the last year.  I value competency and resourcefulness, yet I function without awareness of the company’s future objectives.  (I have asked plenty of times, but have never received an answer)  When implementing any type of information system, computers, software, telephone systems, I ask what our future needs might be. They say we will downsize, and then we add more staff. When I ask if we are going to be moving our offices before I sign another contract with an ISP, they say no.  That means yes.  (we have moved 4 times since I have worked here, each time I was assured we would not moving)  Sometimes I wonder if they are just trying to f*** with me, but that would require a sense of humor on some level.  I don’t think so.  I struggle to be proactive, yet I still end up being forced to be reactive 90% of the time.  I have grown accustomed to it over the years. 

I will admit I can be sarcastic at times.  I know it’s hard to believe, but on occasion I am.  Never antagonistic, though, just a wee bit cynical.  Sarcasm doesn’t go over well when you are surrounded by huge egos with no sense of humor whatsoever. 

I will admit, only a few appreciated my suggestion of purchasing a spirograph to make our organizational chart, since the organization of this company resembles a spirograph image (going round and round in circles) 
Well, I thought it was funny.  Then there’s the time when they were ordering business cards, I was asked what title I wanted on my card and I said Rumplstiltsken  (get it, spins gold from straw.  Don’t worry they didn’t get it either)

Oh, and my suggestion for the cover of the policy and procedures manual <——- wasn’t warmly received either. Come on. Lighten up.  No one is following the procedures anyway.  I wrote the entire section on Information Systems Acceptable Use Policy.  No one, including management adheres to it.  No unauthorized programs installed on the company computers!  Programs must be authorized by management and myself.  Yet I spend my days troubleshooting someone’s Itunes installation, or deleting the free games downloads on someone’s machine that won’t work because of our security protocols. My daily desktop tech support calls consist of panic stricken users telling me they “lost everything” only to once again show them that their window is only minimized (about a hundred times) on their task bar.  It wasn’t so bad the first 50 times, but after 12 years and thousands of times, it does tend to wear on one’s nerves.  I explained to my kids, when they first started using a computer, that the (–) in the corner of the window meant minimize, the square meant maximize and the (x) meant close.  I showed them once, for some reason, they seemed to grasp the concept immediately.  They were around 7 years old.  Too much to ask from full-grown adults?  Apparently so.

Burnt to a crisp
Do you think I’m a bit burned out here?  Is it true what they tell me, that all companies are like this?  No consistency, no accountability?  I guess that’s why I’m still here. I assume the grass isn’t going to be greener anywhere else.

Well, I better put my hypocrisy cap on and finish completing my self-evaluation. 
Strengths…Weaknesses …Where do you see yourself a year from now … What can the company do to help you with your job…..  I hate filling these out, I never know what to write, anything I say can and will be used against me…. I can’t be completely honest, it would sound too sarcastic. I wish I had taken a continuing education course on ass-kissing.  I will admit, that is one of my weaknesses.

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I remember all of the not-so-smart (aka stupid, asinine) things I did, and I remember that my parents weren’t aware of any of them.  As far as my parents were concerned, I was a good kid, near perfect.  I was active in school, had good grades.  I was a hard worker, I got a job at 14 and have been gainfully employed ever since.  I never got into trouble at school, I never got into any trouble with authorities.  I was by the book all the way.  I remember when some of their friend’s children got into some trouble, they would brag about how their daughter would never be involved in anything like that.  OK, now I feel bad.

It’s not that I didn’t respect my parents, I did.  It’s not that I didn’t fear my parents, believe me, I did.  It’s not that I didn’t feel guilty, each time I made a bad decision I did feel guilty for a brief moment.  I was fed a consistent diet of guilt and fear on a regular basis as I was growing up.  I just thought I new it all at that age.  I really felt that I knew what was best for me, and I could handle everything that might come my way.  After all, I wasn’t a baby.  I was in high school.

My parents tried to steer me in the right direction, they warned me of the dangers of smoking, but I still smoked.  They warned me of the dangers of drinking, but I still drank. They warned me never to hitchhike, I still hitched rides.   They warned me about smoking pot, I smoked pot.  To an outsider, you would think I was purposely being insolent, but I honestly don’t remember consciously wanting to defy them.  Like I said, I just thought I knew more than they did. 

I knew if I wanted to do all the things they told me were dangerous, or illegal, or just unacceptable that I would have to do so surreptitiously.  So I did.  That was no small feat in and of itself.  My mom was quite the snooper.  (She could have personally trained the NSA in eavesdropping techniques) She would listen to my phone conversations on the extension, she would “clean” my room regularly and just happen to find things that were hidden under my mattress.  (I never knew it got dirty between the mattress and boxspring, but apparently it does, and quite often)  She looked in pockets, she read diaries, she went through my drawers.  There were no civil liberties in my house and my parents didn’t apologize for that in any way.  They were of the mind that I was their responsibility and they could use whatever means necessary to keep me on the straight and narrow. Although, looking back, all it did was drive me underground.  But all’s well that end’s well right?  No permanent damage from those stupid years. Really it was sheer luck that I came out unscathed. 

All throughout my high school years, my parents believed that I never tried drugs, I didn’t smoke, I didn’t drink, and certainly never got behind the wheel of a car after drinking.  Don’t get me wrong, I did get caught smoking once, but I used the tried and true “They’re not mine, I’m holding them for someone else.  I would never do something so stupid like smoke” and as far as I can tell, the line worked beautifully.  Looking back, I was so good at deceiving (what I like to call re-directing attention), I think I might have even fooled me.
 
This is why I felt a little ambiguous about my kids interim report cards that arrived over the weekend.  They both are doing excellent in school.  I am thrilled, and very proud of them, (and yes I praised them both) and I should be sighing a huge sigh of relief, but at the same time, my ears are perked and I’m on alert.  I know it’s not as simple as checking something off of the “How can you tell if your child is doing drugs” list and think “Good grades, OK, they’re fine”

I remember how well I pulled the wool over my parent’s eyes.  Granted, I don’t snoop and I do try to respect my kids privacy, also I try to respect their opinions on things, even when I don’t agree, or know that they are being completely irrational, I try to impart my wisdom upon them, and hope that a fraction of it is sinking in.  But still, in my mind I know they’re not nearly as perfect as they portray themselves to me.  They know, just as I did, to stay under the radar.  Don’t put up any red flags, and like their Mom, they seem to be doing an excellent job in that respect.  Still, I can’t help but feel a little uneasy.  I can’t accuse them of anything at this point, but I don’t want to wait until they make a really bad decision that I can’t fix.  I would love to head it off at the pass, before the damage is done. 

My son in particular worries me. He is in 10th grade.  He has been working since he was 14 and still does work, he gets great grades, he’s liked by all of his teachers and even other parents.  I did find cigarettes once (in a common area of the house, no snooping…yet) and guess what?  They were someone elses, he was just holding them because his friend was afraid to take them home. Sound familiar?

Believe me, I don’t want to look for trouble, and if he is truly keeping his nose clean then great. But I can’t let my guard down. As I love to tell him often, I wasn’t born yesterday.  I’m aware of some of his friends that have gotten into trouble.  All I can do is use their predicaments as examples.  Let him see how lives can be screwed up royally with one bad decision.  Again, hoping it sinks in.

 I’m trying to veer off of the guilt and fear route that my parents took. (although a little thrown in for good measure can’t hurt)  From experience, and the experiences of both of my sisters, this didn’t seem to work completely.  Yes, we are all fine, no drug addictions, no teenage pregnancies, everyone’s alive, but again, sheer luck. 

If my children’s strategy is the same as mine was, to keep up the appearances with good grades, responsibility, and respect for authority, then I have to hand it to them, they are good.  I see promising careers in politics. 

Or maybe they are smart, perfect children, and they listen to everything I tell them, and realize that I’m right about everything.  If my birthday was yesterday, I might believe that. 

I’m hoping that it’s something in the middle, and my goal is for all of us to make it out, unscathed.

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What I can’t accept is my dwindling emotional stamina.  I was always emotionally strong and motivated, I liked being in control of my life and would rise to the task daily.  When the chips were down, I was at my best.  I would rise up to whatever dilemma and take the bull by the horns.  I would morph into super control freak, and I would not rest until the crisis had been solved. 

Lately, I find that my emotional state becomes apathetic without something (usually something bad) to snap me out of it. Could it be that just as my body has worn down over the years by the physical demands placed on it, and now my mind has done the same?   I feel emotionally drained much more frequently now.  I often adopt a flat affect, like I have to emotionally take a rest. 

Now, the only way to light a fire under my butt is for there to be a crisis looming on the horizon, and only then do I feel that passion or motivation for life that I once felt on a regular basis.   It’s funny that what I would strive for, balance, harmony, peace, are the very things that let me slip into this apathetic state, and disharmony, chaos, upheaval, have become my only motivating factors anymore.  It seems like the classic “careful what you wish for”.

Is this an inevitable part of aging?  Am I just so worn down from past experiences that I no longer have the ability to maintain a motivated emotional state?     When I try to remember how I managed to stay focused, stay on top of things, to get out of bed, and jump into my days with enthusiasm, I remember one thing.  I really had no other choice.  I had small children who depended on me, I had to keep going.  I can’t honestly ever remember feeling like I wanted to curl up in a ball and rest.  I don’t think I ever let myself even consider it, because I knew that was not an option. 

Ironically, I’m happiest (if you can call it that) when there is a crisis in my life.  That’s when I capture that focus and enthusiasm I had in my youth.  But after the storm has passed or has been averted, I find myself slipping into apathy soon after.  I am losing my emotional stamina.  I have trouble keeping it going, and building on success like I used to.  It’s almost like the years have taken everything out of me.  Now, instead of fully solving a problem or situation, I have just enough emotional stamina to get over the hump.  Then I fall apart.  I don’t like this at all.  I want to stay motivated like I used to. 

Last year, my husband was out of work for 6 weeks.  I was able to summon the physical and emotional strength to get through it.  In hindsight, I see I was focused and pretty happy with myself during that time.  I was on top of my game.  I did what needed to be done and we got through it, afterwards, I slipped right back into my periodic apathy.
It’s only when things start to fall apart, or an emergency arises that I re-capture that continual focus I had in my youth. 

I’ve come to the conclusion that either I’m too hard on myself, after all, I’ve been responsible and dependable all of my life, and decline is inevitable or I’m not hard enough on myself.  I know that given a back-to-the-wall situation, I can rise up to it.  So why do I wait until I’m backed into a corner?  Maybe I should view the “quiet” times much harsher than I do.  I need to start swimming again and stop treading water but I can’t seem to find the urgency in that. 

Am I so screwed up that trials and tribulations are the key to my happiness?  I hope not.

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His name is Lucky and he’s a shepherd-collie mix.  He’s 5 years old.  (that translates to 35 in human years, just about the time the first midlife crisis rears it’s ugly head). 

It all started a couple of weeks ago.  My neighbor called the house to inform us that our dog had been wandering over into her yard.  She complained that he was terrorizing her yip-yip little dog and also “doing his business” in her yard.   You would think that’s pretty normal behavior for a dog, but Lucky was trained to stay in his own yard, and he always has up to that point.  You see, when we first brought him home, we spent quite a little bundle of cash to have an invisible fence installed.   We have a nicely wooded lot, with lots of chipmunks, squirrels, and birds to keep him occupied.  We enclosed about a half an acre area.  Plenty of room for him to play and run.  After the “fence” was installed, we put those little flags up and trained him to know the perimeter.  The fence would warn him with a little beep, and then he knew to go no further.  (getting zapped a few times also helped).  It didn’t take long before he knew the boundaries.  After about a year, we started letting him out without the zapper collar.   He was fine.  He was happy romping within the boundaries we had set.  All was well until a few weeks ago. 

After his transgression into the neighbors yard, we promptly scolded him for going next door.  He knew he wasn’t supposed to.  He cowered in the corner for a few hours, then scratched to go out again.  We pointed our finger at him, and warned him to stay in his own yard, then we let him outside again.   Well, he went outside and sat, looking over at the neighbor’s yard.  I saw him outside the deck and yelled, “You better stay”.  With ears back, he stayed.  Until I turned my back, then the little shit went right over the boundary into the other yard.  Well, that was it.  We got him back inside, and slapped that collar right back on him.   I let him out and he promptly zapped himself, ran back inside and refused to go out again.   Oh well, he has to learn.

The next day, my son called me at work to tell me that he had just gotten home from school to find that the dog had taken a dump right in the middle of the living room.  Oh, this is just great! 

When my husband came home, I told him what had happened.  Neither of us could understand what was going on with this dog.   Time for some dog whispering.

I said, I think he’s going through a male midlife crisis, he’s grown tired of living within the boundaries that others have set for him, he no longer is satisfied with playing with the squirrels and birds in our yard.  He wants to expand his horizons as he sees that there is so much more out there, beyond the boundaries.  He’s re-examining his life, feeling that time is slipping away, and there is so much he hasn’t experienced.  Like chasing cars, peeing on fire-hydrants, the smell of other dog’s butts, and the love of a good bitch.  Now that we have re-imposed those limits, he’s resentful and withdrawn.  Male midlife crisis.

After he was through laughing at me, my husband said, “The dog isn’t thinking at all.  He’s just being a dog.”

Exactly! Male midlife crisis.
 

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I just hate it
I hate shopping.  I can’t explain it.  Either I had some horrific shopping experience in my past that my subconscious found so hideous, it has blocked it out completely from my memory or I apparently am missing some gene in the female chromosome that allows one to get pleasure from the shopping experience.  My daughter hopes to cure me of this disorder, and she’s relieved that this defective gene has not been handed down to her.  I hear her complain to her friends about her mother’s “disability”, her “birth defect”. I see them listen sympathetically, almost unbelieving.  How can this be true?   Are you sure you’re Mom’s not just too busy?  Maybe she just doesn’t want to spend the money.  As they try to comfort her.   No, she says, My mother hates, loathes and despises shopping with a passion that only she can truly know.  (I love when she quotes me directly, just when you think they don’t listen)

This has not been an issue in my life, until recently. (recently meaning a daughter turned 14 with her own money and no transportation except Mom)  I have always hated shopping.  It doesn’t matter what kind of item.  Food, clothing, home décor, gifts, souvenirs, you name it.  There is something about the simple act of shopping, looking at items, deciding what you want or need.  I just don’t like it.  I tried catalog shopping once or twice.  It didn’t really provide me with what I wanted.  Either the clothing didn’t fit, or the item looked better in the illustration, and there was no way to tell how well-made something was from the pictures.  After a couple of bad experiences, I gave up on that.

Only if I must
It’s not like I never shop.  It’s something we all have to do now and again. (like going to the dentist)   There’s no getting around it.  I just wish I could get the enjoyment that so many other people apparently do.  It would be nice to actually want to go to the mall and make a day of it.   Instead, only when I must, I reluctantly go, knowing exactly what I want, and with surgical precision I head directly to the store, get what I need, pay, in and out as fast as possible.
 
Looking in my jam packed closet, you would never know I have this affliction.  It’s quite misleading, but my closet is actually a time capsule of all fashions dating back to 1983.  If you think about it, that’s 25 years of clothing all in one closet. The only knick-knacks I have in my home are gifts I’ve received, and a few candles that I’ve purchased from the candle parties I’ve attended over the years.  I have 3 pairs of shoes, 1 purse, 2 pair of jeans, and a basic wardrobe for work.  I purchased the entire wardrobe at one store.  I just found a pair of pants I liked, and promptly bought one of each color offered, and 2 black pair.  I had the salesgirl pick out some blouses that might match and that was that.

Shopping for my kids wasn’t quite as horrible when they were small, but that’s back when they had the Garanimals, remember those?  They were great.  A giraffe tag, with a giraffe tag, an elephant tag with an elephant tag.  It was for people like me with no fashion sense, who hated shopping and wanted to get out of the store as soon as possible.  That was an awesome idea, I wish they still had something like that, not only for the kids clothes, but adults as well.  Instead, I walk into the store, take a quick look at the mannequins and tell the salesperson, I’ll have what she’s wearing. 

Price is no object
Now you would think this would be great for the wallet.  But actually it’s not.  Not only do I hate shopping, but I’m a dumb shopper.  I don’t bother looking at prices.  If I find a particular item is what I need, I just get it, no matter what, because if the item were too expensive, that would necessitate “shopping” some more until I found a similar item at a more reasonable price.  That’s what happens.  You get sucked into the shopping vortex.  That’s why these shoppers sometimes spend hours at a mall, looking around, shopping around the sales, and they actually enjoy it!  My sister is one of those.  She always calls me on the way home from the mall, excitedly reciting all of her purchases and the great deals they were, then goes on to tell me about all of the “steals” her friends came upon also.  She’s so ecstatic with her bargain-hunting prowess, she relives every detail on the phone with me.  I listen politely, and insert an obligatory, “wow” in there periodically.  She always ends those conversations with, “You have to come with us next time”, but of course, I don’t. 

Let’s do this
Apparently I’m missing out on some major female bonding. I could live with that, except for the fact that my daughter is at an age where I’m lucky to be invited into her room on occasion.  This shopping thing is something she actually wants to do with me.  She is determined to lead me into the joyous world of shopping.  I just need to open up to the experience. (her words, not mine)   So tonight I am going to try with all my might to enjoy it.  I already promised her I won’t groan at being dragged from store to store.  I won’t hijack the salesperson to pick something out for her, and I won’t sit at the food court with a book and have her call me when she’s done.  I’m going to let her do her thing, and genuinely try to enjoy the shopping experience, and even if I’m not converted, she’ll never know. For one thing, I’m a great actress;  “Oooh, look at this dress, it’s gorgeous, but don’t get it yet, we still have 20 more stores to check out.” (pretty convincing, yes?) , but more importantly I will be genuinely enjoying our mother-daughter time, even if it is shopping at the mall.
 

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Today I clicked on his blog to find this post about someone close to him with MS.  He is trying to raise awareness and promote a New Years Eve fundraiser for the National Multiple Sclerosis Society.  After reading it, I was moved to do something today.

bob offered 3 suggestions:
1. Attend this fundraiser for the National Multiple Sclerosis Society – (for me personally, no can do, I don’t live in the area)
2. Donate – (no can do again.  I am severely and utterly broke)
3. Spread the word – (now that I CAN DO, and so I am)

Please, take a moment out of your day and follow this link to his post, read about this and donate if you have the means, and if you don’t, stumble the page, add it to your Technorati faves, send the link to the contacts on your “list”, and if you’re like me and don’t have a “list”, do what I did, send it to your friends, co-workers and family (yes, I have friends, and boy do I have family). 
Do whatever you can. 
Do something.

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