I want to make it perfectly clear, this is just a story, an idea to write about, I have not received any medical diagnosis or have any reason to believe that I only have two years to live.
Several weeks ago, a notion popped into my head, I only have two years left. I have no reason to believe that statement to be true, but it got me thinking, what should I do with those two years? Actually, it gave me quite a sense of peace to think about this idea. With all that is happening in the world, if I only must endure two more years of this nonsense before I can finally rest, I think I could make it.
As of late, I feel like I’ve been playing a game of real life Jenga, you know that game where there’s a stack of wooden pieces that must be removed one at a time without having the whole tower collapse? Yes, that is how I have been feeling. It’s been one thing after another, mental and physical challenges leading me to exhaustion. If not learning how to use the new fancy printer at work, it’s been the arduous task of getting ink for the new fancy printer, the one that’s supposed to tell the powers that be when it needs ink and have it sent to the store automatically. However, no one ever set it up properly for that to happen and me trying to find out how it is that I will receive replacement toner in a timely manner has been a nightmare.
How am I supposed to do my job without ink? I can’t print price changes, purchase orders, etc. which led me to have a conversation with the president of the company pleading my case and finally having some ink brought to my store by the head of IT personally. You may ask, has the delivery system been set up correctly now? No, no it has not, but there is another set of cartridges that can be delivered to me by the IT guy, but not by way of the system because no one seems to know how or why it is not set up for this magical service that is supposed to happen automatically. I just want to be able to do my job without the added stress of wondering, will I be able to print what I need daily without feeling like a wooden piece is being removed from the Jenga tower with each press of the printer icon!
I know, I know, first world problems, I’m such a baby, but it’s frustrating when I cannot exercise any control over a situation at all. I couldn’t go buy the ink, I couldn’t contact anyone personally to set up the system, all I could do was beg and plead and have my team watch me have a meltdown, arms flailing in the air while screaming, “I just want to do my fucking job!” Yes, I swear like a sailor and that’s not the only time the F bomb flew and yes, it gets me into trouble when I say it to the wrong person at the wrong time. It’s not like I told someone to F off, no I said and I quote, “I work really fucking hard…”. Well, apparently some people are very sensitive to the word and don’t feel like they can have an adult conversation with me themselves about it, so they went to dad (figuratively speaking). I sat on pins and needles for a week waiting to see what my sentence would be. Fortunately, I’ve been let off the hook with a good talking to, but now I feel like even more wooden pieces have been removed from my Jenga tower and it’s beginning to teeter.
Yesterday, I realized that one of calculations was way off and I had to make some adjustments that effect several folks. Without going into unnecessary detail, I feel terrible, stupid, and incompetent. How did I let something like that happen? I could blame it on stress and the 50+ hours I work a week, but the reality is, I should have known better. Am I beginning to teeter like the Jenga tower? How many more pieces can go missing before I completely collapse and it’s game over? I have a nasty habit of pushing myself to the brink of insanity with trying to do as much as humanly possible to make things “good”, not even perfect, just “good” and I think it’s being to catch up to me.
Even while trying to take advantage of the amazing weather we’ve been having, by prepping Groovy Gail’s Garden beds, I kept pushing myself. I’m not a total idiot though, I would stop and rest, drink water, apply sunscreen and wear a hat, but I just kept pushing myself, trying to get as much done as I could in one day because unlike the 9-5ers of the world, I get a day off here and a day off there, not two in a row, not usually anyway. I mean, if I only have two years, I need to get as much done as possible, sooner than later, right?
I pay my bills in a timely manner, I have triple checked and filled in any missing gaps in my food pantry, I’ve made doctor appointments, delivery appointments and appointment appointments all to be certain that everything is taken care of, no woes to be had if I suddenly drop dead. It could happen, one day, I just don’t wake up or I turn left when I should have turned right and bam! However, there’s no way of knowing and no amount of prep work is going to prepare me for the inevitable, so even though the Jenga tower feels like it’s one piece away from crashing, I need to find a better way of spending my last two years.
I’m spending money on things I don’t need, but make me happy. A new fountain for the garden, having soil delivered instead of me exhausting myself by loading and unloading my car multiple times and ordering my brother a fun hat, just cause. Eating out even though I have an illegal amount of food in the house, wearing brightly colored shirts to work not caring if they make me look silly, and telling people how I really feel, in the moment and damn the consequences. I don’t have some bucket list I feel a need to accomplish, places to go, things to do, I just want to make the most of the time I have.
Then I had a thought, what if the two-year notion is an indication of the end of this chapter and the beginning of a new one? I mean, what if I simply need to endure the next two years with life as I know it and in two years, something amazing is going to happen that will change my life for the better? I have no idea what that could be, but it’s exciting to think about. Maybe a new career, a new home or what if, no could it be, I might actually get my act together and lose some weight in a healthy fashion that stays off? Eh, dare to dream, but it is fun to think about. I mean, who would have thought that almost four years ago I would have started to write my own blog and would write 180 pieces? I know I didn’t, but I have.
Two years. What can I accomplish in two years? What will I survive in the upcoming two years? What dreams may be realized in two years? Maybe, by then, they’ll have the fancy new printer automatically deliver the ink to the store without me having a meltdown, dare to dream.
#thelieswechoosetolivewith
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