Therapeutic Rambling

This is an attempt to make sense of my life and order of my cluttered mind. It is also intended to be a journal of no particular interest to anyone, a record of events and non-events that occur in my life.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Moving!

I have moved to Wordpress (sorry, Blogger...)

To follow me, click on this link: http://therapeuticrambling.wordpress.com/

See you on the other side!

Perspective

My office is next door to the office of a woman whose job it is to call people and make appointments to see a doctor in the clinic. I shall call her Bellowing Belinda. Sometimes, she varies the routine by calling people to remind them of their appointments. But mostly, she is providing new and, apparently, very complicated information to people.

She has never been particularly friendly. Never gone out of her way to say good morning, or to introduce herself. At least once, her office door has closed quite firmly while I was having a hallway conversation near it. I chose not to take it personally.

Maybe it's that she has a job she hates (who wouldn't?), but for whatever reason, we have never really hit it off. Granted, I haven't exactly brought her some homemade cookies, but the one time I offered her some of the giant coffee I had just bought, she declined rather ungraciously. So I haven't bothered.

Did I mention that the people she is calling are all either very hard of hearing, speak English as a second language, or have some form of cognitive impairment? It must be so, because she shouts. Very slowly, and repeatedly. All day long, she makes loud, repetitive phone calls. I have the spiel memorized. No smoking 4 hours before the appointment. No, there are no needles. Just a pressure cuff. Your appointment will take half an hour. You can drop him off at the door and park in the handicapped parking. You get the idea.

Another reason I have never warmed up to this woman is that she often speaks very shortly to her victims. Today I actually heard her ask someone, after 10 minutes of trying to spell "Booth" (no, there is no "r" in Booth), "Isn't there someone else there that I can talk to?" It was so peaceful when she was on holidays this summer. I have no idea how her people got to their appointments on time.

I have usually just closed my door or put on something to block the racket. When it's too distracting to actually get any work done, I will go on a field trip to the cafeteria or another department for a break. I actually find her incredibly irritating, and not because she plays a radio station that I don't like, loud enough for me to hear. Which she also does.

Anyway, yesterday my door was closed and I was trying to ignore a phone call to a particularly deaf patient, when my other neighbour, Shirley, came into my office through the adjoining door, chuckling. I like this neighbour - she is friendly. We have lots in common, have spent hours chatting about work, or kids or home renovations. We have a kind of revolving door between our offices.

"Wow," she said. "Can you imagine having her job? My door is closed and it sounds like she is right there in the room with me!" Her office is a full 3 doors away from Belinda's.

With that one little offhand comment, I had an instant, major shift in perspective. One of those Kuhnian paradigm shifts after which everything which used to be blue is now green. Suddenly, it wasn't Belinda that was irritating, it was her job!

Shirley was right. Belinda has an awful, frustrating, tedious, Groundhog Day-esque job. All of a sudden, rather than irritation, I felt sympathy for her. Now, the loud, short-tempered phone calls, the distinct absence of friendly overtures no longer seemed excessive or exaggerated, but rather simply a coping mechanism.

In a way I admire her. I have a tendency to run off to a new job when there's anything remotely unpleasant about whatever I'm doing (and sometimes even when I love everything about it...). I could never do what she does, not for five minutes. And she does it day in and day out. No wonder she's miserable.

Interesting how attitudes and opinions can turn on dime. What was true one second is utterly false a second later - what once is seen can never be unseen. I guess it's why first impressions are so lasting. It's why stupid Youtube videos go viral.

Anyway, this was really apropos of nothing, except to say that I would really like to find and bottle whatever it is that finally tips the scale one way or another. Then, I could rule the world! Mwahahaha!

Oh, darn it. You probably have a new opinion of me, all of a sudden. Sorry about that. Please disregard. If you can.

Monday, September 13, 2010

Conquest

This weekend, Jack and I and my brother in law, Matt did the Riding Mountain Challenge, a 140 km round trip bike ride from Dauphin, MB through Riding Mountain National Park, to Wasagaming and then back again to raise money for the MS Society.


I'm sure this won't be the most entertaining post; I am mostly documenting it here for posterity. My inner Facebook Status Update monologue while out on the bike for 9 1/2 hours was much funnier. Unfortunately (or maybe not...) there was no service in the park, so both of my Facebook friends were spared hourly comments on the utter misery.

It was tough. Prairie folk don't do hills well, at the best of times, and certainly not when there are 35 km/hour winds involved, but we managed to get ourselves up the "mountain" on Day 1, and back down again on Day 2. I use the term "mountain" judiciously, although Matt tells me it would be considered a Category Three climb, if we were professionals riding in the Tour de France, which I will never do, and not only because of my distinct lack of male parts.

Besides the finish, the highlight of Day 1 was seeing a bear cross the road in front of us. I was a little scared, to say the least. We rode near the back of the pack (ok, we rode AT the back of the pack) and we were pretty much alone on the road when it came out of the forest, stopped on the road, looked at us and took a couple of steps toward us, and then sauntered on its way across the road and into the trees on the other side. I have extra laundry to do as a result.

Second only to the bear was the joyous discovery of the ultimate trail food: graham crackers, peanut butter, and chocolate chips. Most. Awesome. Meal. Ever. Never mind the fact that at that point I was hungry enough to have eaten the bear.

The highlight of Day 2 was reaching speeds of 44.5 km/hr coming down the mountain. I'm not sure I am coordinated enough to be going that speed in any vehicle without airbags, but I did it nonetheless. Nearly created yet more laundry, but made the climb worth it. I guess.

Besides the bear, the hills and the wind, though, it was a really nice ride. Very scenic and picturesque in the park. Some sun and nice cool temperatures - we were never chilly but never really overheated either.

Jack was the youngest rider by several years, and he covered the entire distance under his own steam. We walked a couple of the hills, but he never gave up, even when the wind kept knocking him off the road (we were literally stopped almost dead by a wall of wind near the finish on Day 1). I was so proud of him - he is a tough little kid. Despite frustration and discouragement, quitting was never an option for him. Bodes well for his future.

Today, my butt is a little sore, but Jack is fine. In fact, ten minutes after we finished and got out of the wind, he was fine. He's even been out on his bike already. I can't stand the thought of it.

Oh, and did I mention that our team, "Where's Jack?" raised over $1500 for the MS Society? Thank you to everyone who donated for your generous support! Mark your calendars. I had enough fun that we might even hit you up again next year. I may even be able to convince a few more family members to join us - take the weight of the bad-weather blame off Matt.

I enjoy accomplishments like this because it was so hard, and we did it anyway. I am thankful that my body is capable of that kind of endurance; many aren't. We are really just lucky, lucky people.

Wednesday, September 08, 2010

Renewal

I'm sure I say it every year, but I love fall. It is more a new year to me than the New Year. For the first time in a long while, I will not be attending school this year. This time, I am not jealous. I need a little break from formal education.

The kids are all ready to go. They are busy laying out their first-day outfits and fretting about their hair. Jack is excited to meet all the new kids in his class. Aimee has already had what seemed like a good first rehearsal for her musical theatre production. She will be walking back and forth to school this year, for the first time, and she has been furiously planning with her friends where and when to meet for the walk.

Like last year, it will be a busy year. We will have two different music lessons, two different choirs, the aforementioned musical theatre, and hockey, so far. There has already been talk of Patrol, cross country club, and curling. Oh, and soccer is not 100% done yet either.

I tried for a long time not to over-schedule my kids, which is why they are not in swimming, dance and karate, although I do confess to considering all of those at one time or another. I grumble about driving them all over the place to and from their activities. I grumble a little about the costs.

But it's hard to deny them when they really want to try these good, wholesome activities. They learn from every single one of them - teamwork and music and communication and getting along with others. Being busy keeps them away from 7-11 and its hoodlums and sweet delicious poison, and from the TV and the Xbox, and artery-clogging, intellect-dulling indolence.

I find some justification for ink-spattered calendar by arguing that my kids are happier when they are busy. They are more organized, more regulated, by necessity. They are learning to think ahead to be sure they are prepared for their committments (Aimee spent the last few days frantically reading her script for the first rehearsal). They are forced to settle down earlier at night, eat on a more predictable schedule, and perform some semblance of personal hygiene routinely.

They had a great, if mostly lazy, summer. They fended for themselves most of the time, self-regulated from wake-up to bedtime. I think it was good for them - they were mostly tired and dirty, and were never brought home by the police, not even once. The house is still standing, and they did the jobs I assigned without much grumbling. There was far more tv than they have ever watched. But for the most part, they made good, healthy choices about what and when they ate, and how they spent their time. Physical activity was never an option - it was required, and not necessary to enforce either.

Summer has just been long enough for them. I think yesterday was the first day they didn't actually plan an activity outside the house. They are just starting to show signs of boredom, and are more excited about school than not. That may change at 7:00 tomorrow morning, but for now, it's working for us. I am looking forward to their brains beins stimulated again, though. Neither has voluntarily picked up a book that wasn't a comic since June.

So we'll see what the new year brings. I predict more independence, more hormones, hopefully enough mild drama to keep everyone happy without any actual crises. I will happily watch them go off to school, and not miss the challenge of higher education for myself, this time. I will transfer the challenge to the task of geting everyone where they need to be, on time. That will be enough for now.

First day of school pictures to follow soon.