Customer Service - Part Deux

What do you think of when you hear the word "postal"?

Many people think of "going postal" - crazy, in other words. Bringing a gun to work and mowing down everyone who has always ticked you off?

I was working in the Washington Square Building across the street from the post office in Royal Oak, Michigan, when the first "going postal" event occurred. It was a bit scary, not knowing where the gunman would run when we heard he exited the building. This was in November of 1991 - a month that would change our lives forever.

My changes would be irreparable - but that's a different story.

We also tend to think of poor service - like the postal carrier who folded the two paintings a friend sent to me, even though they had "DO NOT BEND" written all over them. Or how someone at the post office in Cincinnati slit open an envelope containing some vintage craft books, helped him/herself to a few, then resealed and labeled it. I know the person who sent these to me . . . she dropped it off at her own post office. No one had their hands on it afterwards except postal employees. I had to fill out federal paperwork to file a complaint!

So, I was NOT surprised when I was tracking my husband's birthday gift package and found it had been sitting at the Saginaw USPS hub, about 7 miles away, for over a week. What DID surprise me was what happened when I called there and spoke to a postal worker, Sharon. She located the paperwork, looked it up in their internal tracking system. Come to find out, it had been on a pallet with 477 other packages, all of which had a delivery date and location. Except mine.

She and two supervisors (Saginaw & Bay City offices) spent over seven hours hunting, manually tracking , and essentially trying their best to locate this one small package. ONE small package. A pallet of 478 total items. They found it (I think it was in our crappy carrier's car). Tim got it one day late.

I think the towing company from two weeks ago could take a pretty decent lesson from the Post Office today! I never thought I would be saying that!

Maybe this is a lesson for me, too, about hope. And jumping to conclusions, based on the past. And having faith that the system is working, the world will fall together as it should, and that there are people out there for whom we should just hold on. It will all work out in the end. And good things are worth waiting for.

I would post a picture of said mug, but it's filled with morning coffee and wandering around a hospital in downtown Saginaw right now . . .

Waiting for spring

I found it a little odd that one of the feral 10-month-old kittens from the barn, the one I called (Play) Misty (for me), was hanging out on the porch yesterday. She let the dogs sniff her, and I took a few pictures of her that I was going to title "Kitty doesn't feel well today". I sat down beside her, gently stroking her head, and then tried to feel her over to see if she had been hit by a car and was injured. She felt amply fed for her size - her mother, Luna, is very tiny and so are her siblings - but she had been having tummy trouble; the evidence was on her tail. It was most likely coccidia, a very virulent intestinal issue and difficult to cure. We have been going through it with Brody for the past 5 months.

I left her in peace and went about my day. Later, I noticed her head was laying in the snow near the water dish. I didn't have much hope, but I prepared some of Brody's medication mixed in canned food and called the vet's office to make an appointment for Monday as it was too late Friday.

By the time I took the meds out, though, Misty was gone. Not off the deck, but out of this life. She looked so peaceful, lying in the sun. I wrapped her in a blanket to bury her.

I never realized she was even sick. It amazes me that, for living in a body, surrounded by other living creatures living in bodies, we can have no idea what is going on inside each self.

For many years I knew I was not well. For many years I was "poo-pooed" by the medical industry (ironic that I hate traditional western medicine but am married to a surgeon). I spent days in the hospital, hours and hours in ERs, developing a grave case of "white coat syndrome". Now, I am not surprised to find that I have a multitude of health issues. It took a holistic physician to find them.

But, I also think about the many other issues that go on inside others. We can know and love someone but never "know" that person. You never learn the little things - the hows, the whys. The private 'illness' that makes someone blinded to reality and binds the ability to communicate and share.

I'm tired of winter. I am ready for spring.

When is a coincidence not a coincidence?

So, when is a coincidence just that? When does coincidence end and "sign" start? Is it just hope that guides our interpretation of our world? Or, is it something more?

It's hard sometimes, interpreting what the universe has to say. After all, the universe has seen the drama of millions of lifetimes unfold and speaks the language of hundreds of billion of years of dust and emptiness. We, on the other hand, merely speak words, trapped in this 'mortal coil'. Full of self-doubt. Fear.

When is a coincidence not a coincidence? When it is a sign. But, how are we supposed to know the difference?

We have to trust in the process, and let the signs present themselves as such. The key?

Just pay attention.

Never, never on a Wednesday

"The last time it snowed on a Wednesday, we were still in love."

"I still had hope."

"You still called me."

These are lines that are swirling through my head today.

"It snowed last night and most of the day. The wind was even from the east again, instead of the usual west. It made me think of you."

I think any of these would be a great opening to a book. Or a short story. On any day but today, that is.

It really did snow last night. And most of the day - from the east. And none of the above lines now say, "Chapter 1" to me. They all say, "The End".

I hate feeling this weak.

I should be angry, but then what does that say of my nature to forgive?

Pardon, and you shall be pardoned

I am finding it hard to blog these days as the continual writing is causing me some very severe emotional issues. On so many levels. What I want to say is too personal; what I need to say is too direct.

I recently read a Nietzsche quote which touched me deeply:

"And if your friend does evil to you, say to him, 'I forgive you for what you did to me, but how can I forgive you for what you did to yourself?'"

The implications run deep. I can think of half a dozen people in my life to whom the above could apply, for many different reasons. But the one that boggles me most is fear.

"Part of the secret to living is simply learning not to be afraid of the unknown."

This was a friend's status on Facebook. It seemed as if it came from his therapist, I didn't ask. But it makes too much sense to me these days.

Crossing the gap

I've always hated "those women".

Those 30- and 40-somethings who are looking for themselves. Trying to write, or paint, or act, or . . . well, whatever they felt they missed out on in their earlier years.

Yet, here I find myself, 40-something, with so much to say and so many ways I wish to express it.

• I have a yoga room (which doubles as a spare bedroom, but still).
• I also have a craft room (or, as Husband says, a crap room).
• I try to take some sort of pictures at least 5 times a week.
• I made a pact with myself last year to write at least 5 times a week, and given health and computer issues, I am trying to make up for lost time.

The things I want to say, however, are not appropriate for this venue. They are too personal, too deep. But, instead I find myself wanting to sit down and write them anyway. In my craft room, after thinking about them during my yoga session. (hahaha)

This should be good. I'm becoming one of "them". I've always been my own person. It's really hard, now, to think I have conformed.

On a higher note, the fasting continues. I have two fasting partners now and feel I can conquer the world. It's such a liberating feeling. And after a period of being "glutenized" this weekend, my system can sure use a break!

Brody loves Allie. Allie loves Brody - usually.

Sometimes, he gets annoying (surprise!) and Allie pulls out the Full Nelson.

"Waste Not, Want Not" or "want and the need for waste"

I pack my husband's lunch every day. So, today, I went shopping for 'add-ins'.

I try to make sure that every day he gets at least 3 of his 5 servings of fruits and vegetables from the breakfast and lunch I make him. He usually eats most of it: between patients, or in his vehicle between hospitals (he's in private practice and works out of three).

I don't think he goes to work and trades with the other surgeons . . .

But, I also add some fun stuff. And, yes, while I realize that bulk boxes from which I dole into plastic containers would be more eco-friendly, it's just not practical. A little bag of Cheezits slips neatly into a whitecoat pocket; a bulky Tupperware container does not. Many things do get plastic boxes (like the sandwich), but not the all of the fun stuff.

These pictures represent what I purchased for him today.
Look at all the boxes!
Look at all the waste!
All of the above will just be sent to recycling.

But, I fell in love with this:

That is the entire package - just a sticker around a stack of granola bars. Ten to that package, only five to this huge box:

And all of the snacks I bought today, in their infinite boxes, all fit neatly in the snack cupboard in the pantry. In a very tiny space on one shelf.

Wow - so much waste. So much that could easily have fit into a much smaller, less wasteful packaging.

No, this isn't a blog today about environmentalism, much as it seems.

I took a deep look this afternoon at the empty waste in my own life:

• How much time have I wasted on things that never will 'fit' into my life?
• How many tears have I wasted on things which I realize now just don't matter?
• How much of my life have I devoted to people that will never 'get it'? People who will never see the real me and what I am capable of and my value and worth.

And there are many of them.

It just all seems so futile now. And I am angry, now, for waste.

Much like the hour I lose at every time change, I wonder about the other projects, other energies I could have utilized in this lost time.

My new religion - no waste.

(If you are curious, no. I can't eat these. Sugar, starch, so much to avoid - ah, food allergies.)

Commenting on this blog

Hello, all -

I was told by several individuals that Google was not allowing comments on this blog.

I think I figured out why, so comment away!

k

Being fearless

How do you teach another not to be afraid?

I have been working on Allie's extreme fear of cars. Having been a stray has instilled a very deep sense of fear in her at passersby in cars. It's tough, walking on the road with her. I try to choose a time when there is little traffic, but one car can be enough to set her off. I watch her . . . even from a mile away, the sound can start her anxiety. By the time the offender is close enough that I can see the driver, Allie has pulled over to the ditch, nearly pulling me INTO the ditch. This is a dangerous thing as our ditch is really a river and about 15 feet deep! And heaven forbid the driver should stop to talk (I DO live in the country!) or ask directions. Did I mention we have no sidewalks?

I have recently started to give in a little - sometimes I let HER walk on the left side instead of Joey, or instead of being direct with her to try to make her pay attention to me and not the vehicle, I stop when I see a car approaching, letting her "sniff" off the road. Or so the ruse goes. It's better than having her stop without notice, nearly yanking me over.

In the two and a half years I have had her, I can't get her to realize it's okay. She's not going to get hurt. I will be there with her. She is not alone. I have not helped her forget her fear.

But, how can you stop someone else from being afraid when you don't know why s/he is afraid in the first place? You can speculate all you wish, but unless that individual can communicate it to you, you are on your own. Sometimes literally.

On hearts and pain

I never knew that "heartache" was a real pain.

You hear people talk about "heartache" or being "broken hearted". I never really knew that was a physical sensation. I thought it was mental.

Recent circumstances dredging up long-past ones have left me with that sensation. My heart hurts - literally. I breathe in, it aches. Breathe out, it aches. There are times I find myself not breathing. I give myself a quick jumpstart and begin again.

Why is it so easy to hate with the same depth we onced loved?

On a ligther note, fasting is much easier with heartache. Just sayin'.

She's lucky she's cute

So, we were at a birthday party at the Mid-Michigan Children's Museum last night. When we came home, Joey seemed a bit off. Panting, drooling (okay, she usually does this!) excessively, and running around, eating bits of lint & miscellaneous off the floor. Pica behavior is how I would best describe this.

Induced vomiting with hydrogen peroxide. Oh, what didn't come up!? She had eaten shoelaces (cat toy), puffy soft balls (also cat toy), and some sort of plastic - it actually looked like a heavy saran wrap. Plus, most of her dinner. After a frantic hour or so of watching and waiting, rubbing and thumping her belly, her pulse slowed and breathing became more regulated. She burped. Then slept.

I took a Benadryl. I needed to sleep (I had had a long weekend of private hell). All night long, I kept waking, bolting upright. I doubt I slept more than the 90 minutes I did when I first went to bed. As morning dawned, Joey was awake and licking - her belly, her paws. She seemed her normal self other than those. But, nonetheless, I took her to the vet. No fever (yay!). Awake and alert (bonus!). Friendly (the vet is not a "small dog", so of course Joey would be friendly). But, no bowel sounds. Could it be because she hasn't eaten today? Or is something blocking her intestines?

She stayed. I left. We should know something in an hour or so after x-rays.

It really brought a few things home for me, though:

1. Life is precious
2. Time is limited
3. We only go around once

You hear that so often, yet I think this last few days, maybe it's middle-age crazy. Maybe it's a hard kick in the ass of reality. Maybe I should add:

How long can you leave another creature in agony without feeling anything yourself?

So many other unresolved issues are swirling through my head at the moment. I am fasting for a few days, with my fasting buddy Rachael from Charleston. I am so upset this morning, the very idea of food is nauseating. And, after ingesting a few allergens over the weekend, I have to say I am looking forward to clearing them out of my system.

I truly wish it were as easy to clear other things out of my system. People, memories, songs, places - letting go of something I know was never meant to be mine. As hard as it may be. It was just something I always thought would be, but I'm learning as I grow. Or am I growing as I learn?

Some days.

A bad day followed by a really bad night followed by a line from Supertramp

So, I'm sitting here today, wondering if it's me or the world.

All comfort foods, or at least all of MY comfort foods, are my allergens. Sigh. What to do to compensate, then? Eat them anyway, after an emotion-filled day, regardless of the fact you are supposed to be fasting.

Yes, as may well be imagined, I lie awake most of the night - thinking. And in terrible agony, but that was my own fault for eating allergens. My major thoughts were focused on one of my latest revlations. I used the term "self-defeatist" in what I thought was error recently, but the more research I do, the more I found it's true. To use another favorite word: Serendipity.

You see, if Facebook has told me one thing, it's that my major, major crushes from my younger days are all still single. This includes (and no offense to Husband) the great love of my life. I ask myself, is it an indicator that I was trying to attain, then, the unattainable in terms of men, was I truly "not good enough", or was it them?

Or is it an indicator of my self-defeatist behavior?

The questions run too deep for such a simple mind today.

On customer service

So, my husband's truck died last night. He had a late surgery and at the anticipated "coming home" call time, I instead hear that it seems the battery has quit. Great.

I hop in my car, drive down to the hospital to pick him up, and the two of us decide it's too late to deal with the tow truck. "Let's wait until morning," we both agree. I had to drive him in anway, right? Sigh.

So, at 6:30 a.m. we head out. The roads are wet now, but not exactly iced over as they were the night before. We made good time, and as I drove, Husband called the insurance company since towing is part of our plan. We were told 40 minutes. Not awful.

He goes to a meeting. I wait. Outside. In the car, but still. The hospital security guard tries jumping the battery. To no avail. Well, at least chivalry isn't dead.

It's now been over an hour. I call the tow company. "Twenty more minutes." So, I wait. Sigh.

Winter in Michigan can be a bit nippy, so I was grateful Husband let me in to the warmth through the physician's entrance. Especially since that "40 minutes" plus "20 more" became two and a half hours. Multiple phone calls. Many lies on the part of the tow company. Ten minutes after calling my insurance company back - and an acknowledgement call from the NEW tow company - I was on my way. Three hours after leaving home.

So, I thought as I drove, about what kind of company would leave a woman stranded in a parking lot for nearly THREE hours? What has customer service become?

This is an area that is still moderately rural. One thing I cannot tolerate here is that, while many people are pleasant, many men here still treat women like we are ignorant. Have others just become used to it, or do I have higher expectations than most? The appliance repair guy, window repair man, John Deere dealership, tow company - what have I done to these men to be treated like I am some type of fool?

Will this mentality never end? Is it a gender thing, or is it just the waning of customer service skills? My blood is running cold this morning!

On fasting and Lenten resolutions: The truth? You can't handle the truth!

So, about that fast:

Yesterday, I admit I had a very bad day. As a result, I began the fast this morning. I will fast until 6 p.m. Saturday when we meet with a local vegan group to celebrate their 10th anniversary.

What could possibly cause a day so bad that a fast, and Lenten resolution, would be broken?

The truth.

Ah, the truth, in all its murky glory. We lose ourselves inside it, often, as we realize others are denying it. Focusing merely on details instead of looking at the whole picture. It's a slippery slope.

"You never find yourself until you face the truth." ~ Pearl Bailey

How true those words seem, sitting here. Musing. Realizing my own truth in the perspective of others. But, although my fast is supposed to rely solely on water, I am drinking some morning coffee. With ground coriander, pink peppercorns, freshly grated nutmeg, and Saigon cinnamon - all organic. The sweet and spicy combination is serving as the perfect backdrop to my morning.

I am not going to let other's truths define my own. I can see for miles and miles and way past the murk. And the bullshit. Into the heart, wherein the truth lies.

A new beginning

After our computer crashed in the fall, I felt no motivation to post. For some reason, I feel renewed today.

It's Ash Wednesday, and while the hypocrisy of being raised Catholic did not escape me (hence my conversion away from Catholicism), I still like the idea of a Lenten sacrifice. This year's will be five-fold:

1. No allergen foods: I don't eat them much anyway, but time to rid myself of all of them. These include wheat, oats, chicken, shrimp, beef, lobster, corn, strawberries, almonds, and my biggies - dairy and eggs. In addition, I am also a celiac, so ensuring a gluten free lifestyle is important. However, my body does not process ANY starches or sugars well, so other than a touch of agave in my tea occasionally, all of those are out, too.


2. No sitting around: spare time should be used for exercise, dog-walking, or cleaning. Maybe blogging. No more than 30 minutes of computer time per day.


3. No excess spending: I will spend what's necessary. I don't shop that much anyway, but it seemed a logical piece of the puzzle


4. Water fast 3 days each week: This week will be today - Friday. Next week, Mon-Wed


5. Let go of the past. Memories, people, and former "wants". Clean slate time.

Goals and details have been established. It's a new day..