I made everyone wear matching pajama bottoms on New Year’s Eve. Me, Kevin, the boys, my mom and LeRoy. I’m the one wearing the ones that are too short. Come to find out, later, I had given my mom the Tall ones and myself the regular.
Oops.
I’m surprised the kids went along with it. I had forgotten to hand them out Christmas Eve and the boys just scoffed and pretty much said they wouldn’t have worn them otherwise. But come New Year’s Eve, they wore them. I think they didn’t want to disappoint me.
I ended up driving my mom home because she’s 79, it was pitch black on New Year’s Eve, at nearly 1:00 AM and you never know who is out on the roads at that time.
And now, here we are – already starting the FOURTH month of 2026.
STOP! Too fast, too fast! Slow down!
We will blink and we’ll be back in matching pajama bottoms, playing games, eating food and watching movies on New Year’s Eve.
I know this. It’s no secret. Kevin spoils me rotten.
I rely on him to be my fix-it man, and my yard guy.
Confession: I have never mowed our grass. Any grass, really. Could I do it if I needed to? Sure. Would I struggle and look like an idiot, (how do you turn this thing on?) Yep. Most definitely.
But I haven’t had to because I have a wonderful husband who takes care of it, and who does a really good job taking care of it.
Call me a 50’s housewife – it’s fine. You won’t hurt my feelings.
(Unlike some people – I don’t run around with my feelings on my sleeve).
My mom was the same way. She never had to take care of things outside the home because she had my dad to do it. And he enjoyed it. He loved being outdoors fiddling around with … man stuff.
I don’t pretend to understand man stuff.
But since he passed away, (the 3rd year anniversary of my dad’s death has just come/gone – can’t believe he’s only been gone for three years and yet at the same time, it feels like he’s been gone longer), mom has had to try and figure stuff out. Sure – she has us to help her, and Kevin has done a FANTASTIC job of helping her, but, Kevin also has our house, our rental house, his chickens, his elderly parents … he has a lot on his plate. He’s one man – he can only do so much.
Mom has been learning to do the outside stuff on her own. I’m so PROUD of her for rolling up her sleeves and figuring out how to use the lawn mowers, the weed eater, etc. It hasn’t been easy but she’s stubborn and persistent and she’s been figuring it out.
I worry about her, though. She’s 79 after all. I’m not sure it’s a good idea for her TO do it. I worry about her getting too hot, or getting injured and I have tried, and will continue to try, to talk her into hiring someone to take care of her lawn but like I said, she’s stubborn. She says as long as JT, (the lawn mower – a nickname my dad used – I think it stands for John’s tractor, but I could be wrong), continues to run, she will continue to ride it.
Now that the weather has been wildly too warm for this time of year …
(Side note: Take a GANDER at our temperature ranges these past few weeks! )
The trees are blooming, the flowers are coming out and yes, the dang grass is growing.
So – she’s been out there on JT. And she mentioned that the last time she was on JT she drove over a few holes in her lawn. At one point, it scared her because she thought the mower might tip over with her on it.
And that, of course, scared me.
She mentioned something about needing some dirt so she can fill in those holes. Mom and dad used to have rabbits. And they would dig holes in the yard whenever they ran around the back yard – hence where the holes came from.
I mentioned that Kevin had some dirt and maybe he would have some time to go over to her house and fill the holes in for her.
When I said something to Kevin, he said he would go over there and fill them in, but that was a few weeks ago. Remember the busy part? But, he kept thinking about it and this past Saturday, when mom came over to our house to hang out with me, he took some dirt over to her house and filled in the holes. Mom mentioned that there was one hole that she thought was pretty deep … and she wasn’t wrong.
That’s Kevin standing in the hole that mom “thought” was pretty deep.
She was right. If she, or someone walking around her backyard, had stepped into that hole, that person would very likely snap his/her ankle. Not to mention, it was the perfect size to snag a riding lawn mower tire and topple my 79-year old mother who is too stubborn to hire someone to take care of her lawn for her.
:;gulp::
Crisis averted. Kevin saved the day. The holes have been filled and that’s one less thing I have to worry about.
Thank goodness mom said something and Kevin went over there and fixed it. When things like this happen, I can’t help but wonder if that was God’s way of tapping us on the shoulder to say, “Um, excuse me. I see a potential problem and I don’t want you folks to get hurt. You might think about taking care of that.”
I might make this a series … this is a REAL problem for some people.
It’s called TDS, Trump Derangement syndrome, and if you can’t read further because Trump triggers you, bye, have a nice day.
For the rest of us, let’s break this down …
Have you ever talked to someone who has TDS? Or, have you ever watched someone with TDS?
How can you tell if someone has TDS?
They can’t talk about anything OTHER than Donald Trump. They have wild eyes, their tone of voice is unnaturally shrill, they speak, but do not make sense. They possess zero ability to think outside the idea that Orange Man Bad, that Donald Trump is the Devil, Hitler, a Fascist, a Misogynist, a Homophobe, a Nazi … really, insert any name out there and that’s Trump in their minds.
And the thoughts that spew out of their heads is NOTHING but hatred for Trump. There is no diverting their attention to another topic, or, if you’re successful in diverting someone to another topic, that person somehow, inexplicably and irrationally somehow brings it back to Trump.
It’s Trump’s fault.
Trump is evil.
Trump is the reason everything in my life sucks.
It’s really bizarre and yet fascinating to watch.
I have never really spoke to anyone with TDS, though I suspect I have some relatives that might have fallen into this self-imposed “illness”. These relatives have made comments about possibly not wanting to see the rest of the family because their political beliefs are different than ours, ours being the “wrong” belief, and they don’t want any part of that.
How sad is that? So we disagree … okay … but also – so what?
We’re still family. Nothing will change that.
But that’s a topic for another day, I suppose.
I don’t bring TDS up to be flippant – people have a right to dislike, hate, loathe Trump, and I’m certainly not making fun of people who suffer from TDS, though sometimes the disconnect from reality is pretty funny, but rather – the concept of blaming all of one’s problems, heck, everything that is wrong with this WORLD on one man … is sort of fascinating to me.
So, in an honest attempt to understand this mental mystery, let’s start at the beginning. What IS Trump Derangement Syndrome? Well, according to Wikipedia:
Trump derangement syndrome, (TDS,) is a pejorative term used to describe irrational and extreme negative reactions to President Donald Trump, often characterized by an inability to distinguish between legitimate criticism and personal hostility. It is primarily used by Trump supporters to discredit his critics and suggest that their views are distorted by their dislike of him
That last sentence made me giggle. I suppose that could be true – a Trump supporter, not appreciating someone trash-talking a person they admire, trust and have put their hope into making this country a better place, could use TDS as an excuse to discredit criticism, but I would argue that this belief, attitude, obsession, goes WAY beyond simply disagreement, I truly think some people have lost all sense of reality and use Trump as a scapegoat for every disappointment in their life.
Full disclosure – I like Trump. I voted for him and I appreciate the fact that he has the balls to make the tough decisions and help get this country back on track. However – I’m not blind to his faults, his narcissism, his unique way of speaking and the fact that he LOVES to troll the people who hate him.
New flash: you’re being trolled, people. Trump intentionally says outlandish things because it amuses him to see the media, and his haters’ heads, explode. And the people who have TDS? Fall for it, every. Single. Time.
I don’t really care much for the man, though he’s intelligent, charismatic, and talented when it comes to making deals, he’s just a man who loves his country and wants to restore American values. Personally, I just want him to fix what Biden screwed up. I want a better economy, I want to restore morals and ethics and get back to being decent human beings. (Stop encouraging mentally disturbed men to become women, stop lobbing off body parts and brain-washing children into believing they will be happier if they became someone else). I want normalcy … and our country hasn’t been normal for quite some time.
Perhaps it never will be again.
I’m not here to make fun of people who suffer from TDS, (I actually feel sorry for them, truth be known), I’m more interested in knowing WHY someone falls into this disturbed black hole of rage to begin with.
I’m not a psychologist, or a psychiatrist or particularly smart or clever, but what I AM is a realist. I don’t go through life wearing rose-colored glasses – I see the world around me for what it is. Sometimes beautiful, sometimes grim, sometimes disturbing but ALWAYS real. Some people, for whatever reason, and I’m sure everyone has their own reasons, choose to ignore reality and base their decisions, beliefs, existence on how they feel.
I’ve never understood this way of life. Sure – we’re all human, we all have feelings, we all have days/times when we made stupid decisions based on feelings in the past, but ultimately, one MUST come back down to Earth and face reality – the truth-truth – not someone else’s version of the truth.
The facts.
And facts are not always pleasant and some people have a real problem with facts, especially when those facts do not perfectly align with how we were brought up, swayed to believe, or FEEL like it should be.
So what does one do? Find a scapegoat.
And that is where Trump comes into play.
I think some people who have grown up or become indoctrinated into believing the world should be a certain way, but it’s not, because you know, that pesky reality thing, have no choice but to blame another person, entity, occasion for the reason the stars are not aligning and their warped view of the world is not being justified by reality. Instead of stepping back, looking at the big picture and entertaining the possibility they might be WRONG, they stubbornly keep their eye glued to the eyeglass and refuse to look away from their preconceived notions.
Objectivity? Never heard of her.
Critical thinking? What – are you speaking a foreign language?! What in the world does THAT mean?
Exactly. No one even knows what those terms are anymore, let alone apply them.
And that’s sad. And alarming. And sometimes, downright scary.
So. I wonder how many people with TDS are actually using Trump as an excuse to not face reality. Because their reactions to him, and their inability to have a rational conversation without injecting Trump into the conversation, even if it CLEARLY has nothing to do with him, is … strange.
Now – are there people out there that truly believe Trump is trying to cause harm to our country? Are there people out there that truly think they’re on the right side of an issue and are only trying to save our country from … insert whatever reason people think..? Of course. Everyone has a right to his/her opinion – however – when one is unwilling, or incapable, of listening to an opposing view, or incapable of contemplating that perhaps what they believe is wrong – Houston, we have a problem.
And by incapable, I mean people who fall to their knees and scream at the sky because they lack the emotional maturity to process disappointment, or anyone who doesn’t align with their beliefs or thought processes. People who are not willing, or incapable, of having a rational conversation without losing their damn minds …
I’m sorry, folks, but that’s called mental illness.
Am I always right? Of course not. And I freely, and willingly admit that. I like to think of myself as possessing a healthy dose of skepticism. I have two life mottos:
Question Authority
Prove it
I do not, nor will I ever, blindly accept what someone else states as “fact” if all they have to bring to the table is “feelings.”
Girl, please.
Go drink some green tea, take a nap, and come back when you have calmed down.
TDS? Is real. In my opinion, it’s a coping mechanism to avoid facing facts. Just because you WANT something to be a certain way doesn’t mean A. it will be that way and B. IS NOT REALISTIC.
All I’m saying is: Stop. Take a breath. And consider the possibility that perhaps, just perhaps, there are better alternatives to a problem. And then, stop, take a breath, dust off the part of the brain that produces logical thought and listen. You might be right after all, or, you may very well be WAAAAY off the mark.
THAT my friends, is called being an adult.
Now – let’s lighten the mood and watch a little Baby Trump. (I’ve been hooked on this channel for a bit). Just because I like what the man is doing for our country doesn’t mean I can’t recognize his faults – we all have them – I just choose not to take HIM as seriously as some that have TDS.
Other than our world right now, I mean honestly, take any subject and tell me, without telling me, how nuts it is.
But I’m specifically talking about healthcare. I think COVID broke our healthcare system, ya’ll. And it was pretty broken before that whole fiasco. But it’s not only broken, it’s changing.
Case in point: being able to buy antibiotics without seeing a doctor. And no, I’m not talking about buying it from a mysterious stranger on the corner with a long trench coat, (though I suppose those do exist), but being able to buy certain medications online.
I really thought my flu spiel turned into a sinus infection. I used to get them all the time so I know what they feel, and smell, like. So when the signs started appearing I thought, “well crap. Now I’ll have to make a trip to Urgent Care.”
Only. I didn’t have to.
I watch “The Chicks on the Right” every morning. I start work at 7:00 AM and they’re an early show so it works out well. I really like how they are informative but also have a great sense of humor – makes the darkness that is our current political landscape bearable, you know?
Anyway, One of their sponsors is All Family Pharma. It’s an online pharmacy out of Florida that prescribes COVID medications, antibiotics, Zofran, Prednisone, Tamiflu … and a few other things. It’s hard to believe that you can buy antibiotics without seeing a doctor, but you can and I did. I wanted to have some on hand in case what I had really was a sinus infection – I had a plan B.
I’m the kind of person who HAS to have a plan B.
All they did was ask my weight and … I think that was it, actually. The antibiotic cost $20, the doctor’s fee was $20 and shipping was $10 through FedEx. Fifty bucks for peace of mind? Count me in!
On one hand, it’s cool you can buy “simpler” medications online without seeing a doctor. On the other hand, it’s WEIRD to be able to buy medications online without seeing a doctor. I’m grateful that it’s a choice, though I do worry about people taking advantage and ordering too many antibiotics. That’s not a good thing. You don’t want to get used to antibiotics so that when you need them, your body doesn’t respond to them. I wonder how the pharmacy prevents that from happening? The pharmacy also strongly recommends that you take a probiotic to counteract the antibiotic killing off the good bacteria in your gut.
It all seems so … underhanded and sneaky, in a way, to be able to do this. Or, maybe we’re so brainwashed into thinking that you have to go see a doctor, that this is the way it’s SUPPOSED to be when in fact, it’s really not that big of a deal?
I don’t know. I’ve worked in healthcare for the past 13 years – I’m brain washed.
(*Side note: got an email from the hospital today – since the number of flu cases is on the rise, they have implemented the mask policy for the unvaccinated. (*GASP*) If I were still in the clinic, I would have to wear a mask. I probably wouldn’t outside the clinic, but I would have to wear one in the clinic – therefore advertising the fact to everyone in the clinic my vaccination status. Yet another reason I will NEVER go back to the clinic).
Something else that is new to healthcare – private primary care physicians (PCP). We have one, maybe two, in my hometown that I know of. When I retire and we are no longer on my company healthcare, I think that’s what we’re going to do. Pay a monthly fee to have access to a private PCP. This is a doctor not beholden to a certain hospital and completely independent. They can do x-rays and ultrasounds in the office, so that would save you money, if you needed something like that.
I like the concept and again, I’m glad we have a choice. Whatever we can do to get away from the “establishment” healthcare system, I’m all for it. Whatever we can do to break the mold and make changes, I’m in.
I hope buying medications without seeing a doctor and seeing a private doctor outside the “system” collects steam and opens a door to more and more anti-establishment options. Something needs to change with our current system and I feel like these options are a step in the right direction.
The year was 2010 – and it was a tough year for our family. Kevin had his motorcycle accident, (the ER doctor said his pelvis was a “bag ‘O glass”), in April 2020 and by Christmas time, I couldn’t pass gas or have a bowel movement. (TMI, but we’re friends here, right?)
I remember being SO UNCOMFORTABLE when we went to Brandon’s Christmas concert at school, (he played the saxophone in band/Jazz), and I thought I was going to explode. I looked six months pregnant. I felt like a walking whale.
I couldn’t stand it anymore and went to the ER. They gave me a bunch of laxatives, kept me for a bit, nothing happened, they sent me home.
Let me repeat that, they pumped me full of laxatives and nothing happened. Now, my gut is full of liquid crap with no way to exit … after about a day of feeling like I was going to implode, I went back to the ER. They did a colonoscopy and prepped me for emergency surgery.
I had a blockage.
I mean – DUH. I tried to tell them that the last time I was in, but whatever, I was about to be fixed. The doc said, “No problem. The scar will only be about six inches long – you can still wear that bikini.”
DUDE – you clearly haven’t met me. This body hasn’t ever seen a bikini and never will, but I appreciated the positive attitude.
This all happened right smack dab during Christmas. I had my surgery shortly before Christmas and was in the hospital Christmas Eve/Christmas day. And my incision? Was gigantic. It went from the bottom of my belly button to nearly my lady bits.
I’m no math wizard, but my incision was CLEARLY longer than six inches. And I was stapled, so that was unbearably uncomfortable. But I pooped …. boy howdy, did I poop – eight times in the hospital, to be exact. And it was GLORIOUS. lol
It wasn’t until my post-op appointment w/ the general surgeon that flayed me open did I learn why my incision was much bigger than anticipated. I had not one, but TWO twists in my intestines and they ended up removing nearly three feet of intestine.
So. That was fun.
But being in the hospital during Christmas was awful, and sad. And I don’t wish that experience on anyone. (Don’t recommend having your intestines removed, either).
The boys were in high school when his happened. So, they were disappointed but it wasn’t like they missed a visit from Santa. I got home on the 27th and we had a late Christmas at that time.
Fast forward to now.
We had our family Christmas party on the 22nd. My family came over to our house – it was our boys, my mom, my brother and his family, and my sister’s sons. Mom brought over her signature “goodies”, (i.e. cookies, fudge, peanut butter cups, snowballs, etc- all homemade, by the way)., and Kevin and I made tacos, with all the trimmings, and little smokies. Mom brought over macaroni and potato salad. It was quite the spread (and I stressed about not having enough food … we had juuuust enough food).
After we ate, we played our (now) traditional Saran Wrap Ball game. Mom wraps up a bunch of small gifts, money and this time, she put numbers in the mix, up into a giant Saran Wrap ball. One person unwraps the ball, (you can’t tear it!), while another person rolls a pair of dice and tries to roll a double. Once a double has been rolled, the person unwrapping the ball must stop and hand it off to the next person while also handing off the dice to the next person to roll another double. It sounds easy, and it is, but the game actually lasts much longer than you think. When a prize falls out of the ball, the person unwrapping the ball can keep the prize.
The numbers are for picking a gift after the game is over. Everyone brought a “gag” gift with them to the party and after the ball had been completely unwrapped, we went down the line, starting at one, and people picked a gift of their choice. Other players had the option of stealing gifts along the way.
It was a lot of fun and I think everyone enjoyed themselves. I filmed the game while Kevin looked on.
But during the game, Kevin said he started to feel sick. I had no idea this was happening and I felt fine but when Monday rolled around, Kevin was down. He had a 101.9 fever and he was pretty much comatose. I made sure he was drinking fluids, giving him Tylenol and putting a wet cloth on his forehead to cool him down, but I felt fine, save for a dry cough.
Christmas Eve rolled around and yep … I’m feeling sick. I had chills and a fever but my fever never got as high as Kevin’s. We had to contact mom and the boys and let them know not to come over. We didn’t want to take the chance of infecting them, especially since we were running fevers. Kevin still had a slight fever on Christmas Eve, but not as bad as Monday.
By Christmas day, I was down. It had settled in my lungs and sinuses and I was coughing up a storm. Still a dry cough, but more consistent. We contacted the boys and had to tell them we needed to postpone Christmas.
What a terrible, sinking feeling that is to have to cancel something that people are looking forward to. I not only felt physically terrible, I just felt terrible, period, for being the reason it had to happen.
By Friday, my sinuses were a solid block of concrete – I couldn’t even blow a puff of air out of either nostril. I don’t know what happened, or what triggered such a reaction, but it was terrible. And of course, it happened while I was on the phone with my supervisor because yes, I still worked during this time. I didn’t feel bad enough to be bed bound and I work from home so … why not?
Neither one of us went to the doctor, and we’re still recovering though to be honest, neither of us are at 100% yet, (I’m still coughing up crap and sinuses are still pretty stuffy), but we were pretty sure we had the flu. Maybe it was COVID? Who knows. It doesn’t really matter at this point, I’m just GRATEFUL that no one else seemed to have gotten sick after the party and I’m especially grateful that my elderly mother didn’t catch anything. Getting sick, in general, is terrible and a challenge, but when you’re an elderly person, it can be really bad and this virus? Was pretty bad.
So, Christmas 2024 was a bust. It was a huge let down but what can you do? Viruses are out there and though you can make healthy life choices and cut down the number of times you get sick, you can’t avoid getting sick entirely. All you can do is get through it and try not to pass it on to another person.
Kevin went through some old paperwork a few days ago and sent me this snippet from a news story:
This snippet is so old it refers to flight attendants as stewardesses!
It’s a little small and certainly faint but if you press the control button on your keyboard and use the scroll button on your mouse, you can make it big enough to read.
This snippet is from 1991. Kevin had a work thing in San Francisco and I went with him. One of his (very pretty and very skinny) co-workers went, too, and she took her mom. So, the four of us went to San Francisco to keep him and his co-worker company.
I don’t remember what I did while Kevin was working, but I do remember hanging out with everyone afterward and touring the town. We rode the street cars, Walked (? – Or did we take a taxi?), to Lombard street, and walked around Fisherman’s Wharf and watched the sea lions sun bathing. It was a lot of fun, but I was four months pregnant with Blake and I do remember huffing and puffing up and down those streets and also feeling very self conscious of my growing belly, especially next to his attractive, skinny, co-worker.
This experience was only my second time flying. Kevin and I went to Cozumel, Mexico, for our honeymoon and I was terrified. Not so much of flying, but of leaving the country. I had never been out of the state of Missouri before that time, let alone the country. And let alone to a country where English-speaking people were the minority.
But back to San Francisco … I know we’ve been back to San Francisco since that 1991 trip … but I can’t remember the circumstances. I think it was a cruise port, or maybe it was a cruise stop, but I remember taking a taxi and doing an impromptu tour of the city, the Cliff Notes version. Our taxi driver was our tour guide and he was so awesome. I believe this happened in the early 2000’s sometime. So, we’ve seen San Francisco on the surface, but we haven’t really explored San Francisco thoroughly. We would likely never go back now, which is sad, because I remember it being very pretty and certainly interesting, but we have no desire to go to a city that has an app for visitors on places in the city to avoid drug needles and feces.
No thank you.
Plus, I think it’s criminal how Gavin Newsome has contributed, (he’s not the only one – there have been several throughout the years but he’s certainly the most current), to the downfall of the state of California.
Back to the 1991 trip.
The trip ended and we flew back home. I guess it was United Airlines. If Kevin hadn’t found this snippet I would have sworn it was American, because I feel like we’ve always flown American primarily because of the points reward credit card that we use 99% of the time, but it was United, apparently.
Other than this incident, I don’t remember anything weird about the trip. It seemed like it was pretty straight forward. But the moment we reached the Springfield airport, we kept circling the airport. Even with my flying inexperience, I knew something wasn’t right. Why weren’t we landing? What was going on? We circled the airport several times. People were getting antsy, myself included. And the more people got worked up, the more I got nervous. Again, I didn’t really know what was going on but based on the crew and passengers’ reaction, something was off.
Finally, the captain made the announcement: “Attention ladies and gentlemen, we’re having a little trouble getting the landing gear to cooperate. We’re circling the airport until we resolve this issue. We’ll keep you updated.”
Say what??
Okay. Now I could hear grumblings and low murmurs from the passengers. The aircraft’s nervous scale just shot up about 50 points. Were we going to have to land without wheels? How would that look? I guess it would “technically” be a crash landing? How were we supposed to use the oxygen thingies again?
My head is spinning and Kevin is trying to reassure me and I think he grabs my hand, but maybe I’ve seen too many airplane crash disaster movies over the years. The memory is a bit fuzzy.
What’s not fuzzy is I remember a female flight attendant crouching right next to me, (because I had the aisle seat), and lifting a trap door in the floor. I had no idea what I was looking at – mechanical stuff, but I swear I saw the landing gear wheels looking all cozy and docile still nestled within the belly of the airplane.
This may, or may not be true, because I don’t know the first things about planes, and especially back then, so the black thing I saw? Could have been a number of things, who knows if it was actually the airplane wheels.
The flight attendant reaches down into the planes guts and again, I swear I see her cranking something. I’m thinking, “Is she manually cranking the wheels down? Is she qualified to do that?! Is that even possible? I mean, I guess the airplane manufacturer would have some sort of fail-safe system in place for times like this, right??”
Shortly after she fiddled with whatever she was doing, we were able to safely land. I was nervous, but not really scared. I have faith. I’m a Christian. And I trusted God to land us safely – and He did.
But it was a bit of excitement and for a brief moment in time, we bonded with total strangers. Nervous laughter and weak smiles were shared on the plane once we touched down, (with wheels, I might add). And when we stopped at the terminal, everyone clapped with relief.
Apparently, we had been up in the air long enough to trigger a reporter showing up at the airport when we got off the plane. I have no idea why a reporter decided to pick me, out of all the people who got off the plane, to approach and ask questions, but as you can see, it happened. I remember speaking to a reporter, but I was still too amped up on adrenaline to remember what I said. Who knows if I said anything more intelligent than what you see in the news clip, knowing me, probably not. In fact, that poor reporter was probably thinking, “I couldn’t have picked a more articulate person to get a quote from?” Ha!
So, that’s my short claim to fame story. This experience hasn’t soured me on flying but I won’t lie, I was pretty nervous to fly the very next time after this incident.
Your turn:what has been your most memorable flying experience?
I mentioned I’ve been training at work. This activity is painful for me because I don’t have a lot of patience to begin with but when you train? PATIENCE IS REQUIRED. I’m feeling annoyed, I won’t lie. I’m getting impatient with this girls’ stupid-ish questions and her inability to retain what we talked about minutes before. Then I feel uber guilty because, good grief Karen, cut the girl some slack. She’s new. She doesn’t know what is happening and you’re bombarding her with a ton of information.
She’s one of these people who have to take notes on EVERYTHING. Which, I suppose, is better than never taking notes, but when you take too many notes, and then can’t function without referencing said notes, then it turns into a crutch; an excuse to stop using your brain and putting the puzzle pieces together. The problem with this approach to learning anything new is … what happens if the thing you have to deal with falls outside your carefully crafted notes?
But it’s okay, everyone has to start somewhere and I’m throwing a lot of information at her, it’s normal, right?
Yes and no. A person’s ability to learn also comes from his/her own personality. How receptive is she? How intelligent is she? Does she have the ability to multi-task, think on her feet, problem solve?
Everyone says they can multi-task, but that’s a lie. Not very many people can ACTUALLY multi-task. It takes a special sort of brain to juggle several things at once and still focus enough to get these multi tasks done.
I hate to say it, because I’m not completely convinced it’s a real thing, but I sort of think she has ADD. She is constantly talking about her dogs, shushing her dogs, letting her dogs out, letting her dogs in, she’s hot, she’s cold, she has a headache, she needs to throw another pod on her Keurig …. it goes on and on. And I think she KNOWS she’s like this because I will be talking, she interrupts me to make a comment about the above distractions and then she will reign herself in and say, “I’m sorry, yes, so getting back to A, B, C …”
I just stop and let her regroup her brain cells when she interrupts me. But I would be lying if I didn’t say it didn’t drive me crazy. Training is not a game, it’s generally not fun, it’s draining and after 11 weeks of training, I’m OVER IT. So, my patience threshold is at an all-time low. I’m trying very hard not to take it out on this girl, she’s actually very sweet and it’s hard to be truly annoyed with her … but then, it’s the over-the-top enthusiasm, too.
“Oh my gosh, I’m just soooo excited to be here!” Or, “This is exactly what I’ve been wanting to do!.” Or, “I love this sooo much.” Or, “I can’t believe I’m here right now getting to do this.” Or, “This is the best, I JUST LOVE THIS!.” Or, “This is my dream job!”
Look …
I appreciate your enthusiasm, really. It’s sort of refreshing to talk to someone who WANTS to learn and LIKES to work. You definitely don’t see that often nowadays, but girl, please, can you tamp down your overly-excited Chihuahua behavior about 15 notches because … we’ve crossed over into the weird zone and now it sort of sounds like a Stepford wife that is short circuiting.
I’ve actually had to ask her to take a deep breath, slow down, read before clicking, and I did sort of have to bark at her, (to continue the dog reference), … I feel like I’m trying to corral a 5-year old who drank one too many root beers. It’s exhausting and it’s no longer cute, or flattering, now it’s just annoying. Can we get back to training so we can get you up and running and I can stop talking to you and stop working 10:30-7:00, (because I HATE this shift), and get back to my regularly scheduled working life?
Most importantly -F.O.C.U.S
She has three dogs, and they are very cute, (how do I know? Because she posted a picture of them after they got back from the groomers), and I get that dogs, pets, are some people’s children, I get that. But when you’re constantly having to pull your attention away from work to reprimand them, talk to them, shush them, takec are of them, or, at the end of the business day, interrupt to me to say, “Daddy’s home! Go get daddy!”, I feel like I might say something I will regret, throw my computer against the wall or roll my eyes so hard I might need to seek medical help.
COME ON.
I’m all about having fun, posting funny memes and having a laugh, but when our primary purpose of spending time together is to get some work done, I’m gonna need you to get serious, retain what I’m telling you and focus – we have a job to do.
Write From Karen 