Changes...

Not sure when it happened, the leaves have started changing here.

Which got me to thinking...

We have 13 Mondays left in 2020.

Maybe the leaves are telling us something.

It's time for change.

For a new season.

For new leadership, be it presidential, congressional, or in the entire way we vote and are heard here in this country.

For the lifestyle that reflects what CORONA was supposed to teach us, to spend more time together, eat around the table, enjoy what we have... home cooked food and toilet paper.

For simplifying our finances, figuring out what we really need, and appreciating the beauty of living where we each live.

A way to change how we communicate, and sort out who is actually important in our lives.

To change the chaos,

To appreciate being able to move freely from state to state and be able to dream of a day when we can leave the county if our heart desires. 

To celebrate birthdays simply.

To take longer walks with the dog.

To change our attitudes about what we can't change.

Because if we don't make some changes, we'll be starting the whole countdown over again in 2021. 

 

Keeping The Faith...

So I logged into FB today after 4 days of disconnecting.

I didn't miss much. 

I posted about the show on Netflix and basically that in four days I have realized how much negativity and lost time it has caused me.  I've been more aware of how much I'm using my phone now. Mainly because I figured out how to pull up my usage.  8 minutes yesterday.  26 minutes today.  Mostly phone calls and text messages.  A few minutes for checking email. Not too bad.  Oldest pulled up his usage for Sunday... just on Snapchat alone, he logged 41 minutes for the day.  If the average interaction was one minute long, that's 41 times he was interrupted from what he was doing.  In addition, he had 147 notifications.  So in ONE DAY his attention was diverted to snapchat nearly 200 times.  FROM ONE APP ALONE. 

Horrifying, folks.  Horrifying. 

In the meantime, I've been doing other things instead of scrolling.

Crafty things.

Catching up on things...

I consolidated some bills.  While it saves me marginally on interest, it will make balancing the bills much easier.  One large payment instead of getting nickeled and dimed throughout the month.  

Youngest had his appointment with his therapist again on Monday.  We have his first med check appointment via zoom tomorrow. It will be tough to work it with my schedule for work, but it is doable. He's open to having me at this appointment, which is good because I don't want him double medicated unless he has to be. It is also clinically time to increase the dose he's currently on, so fingers crossed she allows him to do that.  The dose he was on when he was ten was 200mg a day.  He's currently on 25mg daily at 18 years old. It's a slow medication, but effective for him.  It doesn't change who he is or how he thinks, just how he's able to handle things.  He's got a long road, but he's slowly starting to move forward.  After a LOT of nudging, he's applied for a few jobs, and was hired this morning.  Just part time work, but simple.  It could turn into a career if he'd like, or not.  But it's a starting point none the less. I asked him if he was excited, he said "I'm psyched to not be a bum sitting home all day."

Oldest is struggling to balance remote school and the stress of being home.  Things with his brother have been hard. He got a job with the college on Fridays, and he's got another job pending M-F that will hopefully get going soon.  Not having any money coming in is stressful on him. We did get him a desk for his room to help with the chaos of having the dog photo bomb his zoom classes. We went to five stores before I finally broke down and ordered one online.  It works for the space, and I even accidently matched the floor, so overall it's a winner.  

With the weather turning, I've been walking the dog longer, taking in all of the last bits of summer and the early signs of fall. I've been going to sleep earlier, and religiously using the serum I got from the spa a few weeks back.  I swear my cavernous forehead *WTF* lines are slowly softening. I've been cooking more.  We are eating more meals together.

And I'm tentatively planning a weekend away.  Nothing huge, but I need to reconnect with my husband, slow down, and escape the spin on a dime life we've had lately.  

I went down to get the mail from the mail box the other day.  In a rare turn of evens we had no bills, just a card from a special bloggy buddy who's started mailing love all over the country.  It made my day, even more than finding this reminder in the leaves by the stop sign at the end of our road. 

Disconnection...

Hubs and I watched The Social Dilemma tonight.  

It's a Netflix Documentary, and if you haven't seen it, I suggest you watch.  

Be prepared to be sick to your stomach. 

Even though I knew all of the things they were saying, it still hits home every time I see yet another documentary about social media's influence over our life. In truth, the only social media I have is the book of faces.  While my social media circle is small, in all honestly, it could and should be paired down by about 80%.  I don't have FB messenger on my phone.  I have to wait until I get home to see what someone wants to say to me privately. I have paired it back so much, and yet, I still feel terrible.

While it may seem petty, right now I am having a hard time with how well my friends kids are doing in collage. (I mean I love them, and am happy for them, but I still struggle with it) Or seeing the family weekends planned.  I am still mourning my hopes that College would have been the key to Youngest branching out and becoming who he wanted to be.  I am still aching for Oldest who  desperately wants to be on campus for the whole college experience this year and can't. There are no family weekends to visit planned this year, no spring break trips, or internships abroad. It's a loss and I'm having a hard time processing.

I can't take seeing the posts about people being broke and wanting to get back to work so badly, yet I am delivering three, five, seven packages a day to their doorstep.  I don't care who's birthday it is, or how badly you don't want to go to the store because people are crazy, and I definitely don't want to see that new diamond ring you're sporting just because.  Petty?  Yes.  But I'm over it.

I am struggling with all of the "homeschool" posts.  Yes, it's hard to be a parent and teacher.  Yes, the new formats suck. But imagine how tough it is to be in 3rd grade and having to fight for focus at the kitchen table with 4 dogs and 2 cats rolling about, at a table filled with this morning's breakfast dishes and random stacks of mail. Your kid will never be successful in a difficult situation if you don't make that space just for them. And for the love of God, stop yelling and complaining about it.  Your children feed off your reactions. If you hate it, they will too.

I'm tired of the polarizing political posts. 

And while I'm totally down with God and Jesus, I'm not going to share your picture, say AMEN, or do anything with your come to Jesus post. I am human, and the big guy and I have some things we are working through right now, and I don't need that all over FB to do it. 

I'm tired of scrolling through advertisements, false information flagged posts, and so many reposted memories that it makes me question the mental well being of those posting. Do they not have anything happy going on now that they always have to look back? Repeatedly?  Four times a day?

Youngest was in the mental hospital for 5 days.  It took two days for the heightened anxiety of being connected all the time to even occur to him.  And once he noticed, he said it was awesome.  Freeing.  Relaxing.  There was literally nothing he could do about any of it, so he just let it go.  Five days of disconnection. He called only those he wanted to talk to. No drama.  No pressure. He said it was like a vacation.

Five days later, he's home.  The phone is back.  His stocks have gone crazy. Toxic people have connected.  The results have been bad, borderline disastrous. I try reminding him that he doesn't need to feel this way. That he can control how the phone makes him feel.  That never letting his mind turn off, raises his stress on a subconscious level.  Back in the day, when you broke up with someone, you stopped communication.  They weren't in your face unless you let them.  Social media doesn't allow for the mind to process loss. It doesn't allow for grief. It grows depression and promotes manipulation. Even having it in the room while you're sleeping doesn't allow down time.  Even in sleep mode, the mind knows it's there, and will never get to a deep relaxation, just in case there's another notification. 

I am one of the few people that still writes posts fairly regularly.  Sometimes I post memes, or images, and occasionally I will share a memory. Interestingly enough people comment about this often, that I am one of the few who still uses FB for what it was intended, and that has been what kept me there for the last year or so.

But now... I just don't think it's enough.  I've seen the damage that social media is having on my family, on me. It will be hard, like any addiction is, but I think it's time to back away for a bit.

Realistically though I still need a platform for my thoughts and journaling.  

Kind of like what I already have here.

You're welcome.  Or, I'm sorry.

Your choice.

When Life Takes Us Left....

The girl and I went for a walk today.

We always go right when we're here.

Today we went left.

Over the river and through the woods....

The baby swans are almost grown...

The water level is so low in the town brook that the ducks can't even float down the river...

Living in the oldest parts of the country, you find little nooks and crannies of when old meets new.  Some homes have cast iron signs, others are a bit more casual...

Pops of color when you least expect it...

Making the most of tiny spaces, their own private oasis...

Classic love of the old made new are everywhere here...

Forty five minutes later, up and down the hills of town, we circle back to the other side of the brook...

I eel like this is rhubarb.  It's ridiculously huge. The stalks are starting to turn, but a month ago they were deep red....  The girl is irritated we keep stopping for photos...

This mill was originally built in 1636.  It was destroyed in 1840 by fire... In 69 they rebuilt it as historical as possible, salvaging the stones from other mills from that period. The wheel still turns and it can still grind flour, selling it three months out of the year.  The rest of the year it functions as a historical non profit. 

And that concludes the 45 minute tour for the day.  Feel free to grab a complimentary water and feel free to tip your dog walker.

It's a Magical Place, Casa De Crazy...

Me: "How's it going, aside from wanting to come home?"

Youngest: "Good, I'm running the place.  I started an exercise club.  I learned how to play spades. I'm learning to play the keyboard. And if all goes as planned, I'm going home on Tuesday." 

That was yesterday.  The old meds are out of his system and the new meds are in.  I saw him today for the visiting hour, which due to COVID, is technically only 15 minutes.  I may have gotten a bit extra time since there were only 2 other people who showed up. He's in a wing of 16. It's sad really.

We had a nice conversation, with some tricky moments.  He didn't get agitated, just inserted his stubbornness.  He didn't jump up and pace, just sat calmly.  He talked about his plans to move forward, getting a job, squaring away his license, continuing on his meds with his therapist and new psychotherapist.  He has no interest in going back to the nic-sticks (nicotine vapes) which is really good.  One stick is the equivalent of a pack of cigarettes and does twice the damage. At this point he has no interest in quitting pot, but if he's honest, with the help of the Psychotherapist, he can at least pick strains that won't trigger other side effects.  And with a medicinal card, at 18, he can get it legally, from a reputable shop, and know what he's getting.  He knows how we feel about it, but in the end it's his choice.  All I ask is that he's as smart as he can be about his stupid decisions.

His roommate says this place is like summer camp with drugs. With no cell phones, computers, work, drama, etc., Youngest says he feels like he's on vacation.  He didn't realize how stressful day trading was for him, or always feeling like he had to have enough pot to share.  He confessed he'd gotten to the point where he couldn't tell who was friends with him just because of him, or what he could offer them. Seeing who has reached out has helped put a lot of it in perspective. He's getting a TON of sleep. I was telling this to Oldest and he doesn't know why he'd want to leave, summer camp with calming drugs? I kind of want to go to...

He still blames me, and that's okay.  I can take it. We all just have to make the best hand from the cards we've been dealt.

When I got home, the husband and I planted a hibiscus that needed to go in the ground before the fall weather really sets in.  We did some fall clean up, mowed the lawn. I put the fake pumpkins out.

While I was at the grocery store with Oldest, hubs was supposed to be working through the mounds of laundry we have downstairs. The laundry pile is truly horrifying right now. After a quick nap (I've been beyond exhausted lately), I headed downstairs to grab what he'd finished so far to fold upstairs and throw in what was left. Apparently, his working on laundry just meant throwing towels in the wash and nothing else.  So, I tossed in another load and turned to see the piles of dorm stuff everywhere and the disaster that is Youngest's room.

I haven't been able to bring myself to go down there in days.

An hour later I was well into the clean up. Painstakingly going through every crack and crevasse cleaning out trash, water bottles, and lord knows what else.  I put all his stuff away from the dorm, hung his flags back up, even changed the sheets.  No reason to waste the dorm décor I spent good money on.  It looks great down there now, a comfy place to lay his head, a home.  This of course lead to vacuuming the whole downstairs, and throwing in additional loads of laundry as the cleaning progressed.

When the downstairs was done, I moved into the kitchen.  I put away all the dorm snacks, loaded the dishwasher, restocked the fridge with water and such. I cleaned the table off, opened mail, created yet another bag of trash to be taken out in the morning. I fed the fish and the dog, threw in another load of laundry.

By the time I made it back to the living room I realized that Oldest had gone out and Hubs had gone to bed. Because apparently he gets to live in a world where I'm going to bed actually means you get up off the couch and go to bed. And when you wake up magical fairies have cleaned the house spotless overnight. Those fairies work their wings off let-me-tell-ya.

So, yeah...Just another Saturday night at Casa De Crazy.  

Where the house is magically cleaned overnight. 

Oldest is undoubtedly not bringing me home endless breadsticks from the Garden of Olive. 

Youngest is head of the circus, and we're getting the band back together since we finally have a keyboard player. 

Humanics

hu-man-ics/ : the study of human nature or human affairs

As a college's philosophy, it's applied as the education of the whole student, mind, body and spirit. The principal of looking at the whole person, giving them an enriching experience to give back to, leaving the institution with more than just an education, but an entire lifestyle.

In truth, it's one of the key reasons Youngest chose this college. 

The journey to get him there, not once but twice, has been long.

And yet it was made once again.

By Tuesday he was done.

After a four hour failed attempt to skateboard home (130 miles), I thankfully got him to agree to turn around and head back to campus. I also talked him into getting a location stamp from his phone so I could have his brother call him an Uber to get him the remaining 5 miles home in the dark. And in the end, it was clear he could not stay.

By Tuesday he was in admissions asking to withdraw.  The conversation turned sadly to how none of any of it mattered and he wished he was dead.  They sat with him for 3 hours until we could get him. We moved him out completely, he came home, and the next day we willingly went to attempt to get him some out patient services. 

What followed next is a giant mess of stupidity, that ultimately ended up getting him a section 12.  A section 12 is when they basically negate your rights, and check you in to inpatient emergency services, and search for a bed in a mental care facility. As you can imagine, this did not go well.

So now, it's two days later.  He has been placed in a care facility.  He will likely be released on Tuesday, if he behaves, agrees to work with them, and stop trying to escape. At least there they are talking to his therapist who has his history.  There, they are talking to me.  There he can call out to anyone he wants, and can receive calls at any point.  I can drop him off snacks, clothes, books. 

There is not where I ever wanted him to be.  

It was not what I asked for when we went for help.  

But there is where we are, and we just have to figure out how to get from there, to here.

I have said for years that his behavior looks like bi-polar.  His father was a pi-polar, manic depressive. I lived 7 years with undiagnosed bi-polar, and then what felt like another 18.  The behavior is sadly my wheelhouse, how to step quietly, negotiate, and anticipate the next move. Trying to be ahead of the curve, I have had him tested twice.  Both saw no signs of a mood disorder.

But mood disorders are not a test that can be taken on paper, rather a series of behaviors, and the generic bi-polar diagnosis has many sub contexts, nuances, and levels. What is for one, isn't at all the same for another, yet there are similarities. And someone saw those similarities today.  When his case manager talked, the blanks began to fill in. The anti depressant he'd been prescribed 3 and half months earlier, just to take the edge off the COVID crazy, would magnify a underlying mood disorder, causing suicidal behavior. As the dosage stepped up, so did the behavior, and thoughts turned to threats, threats turned to an attempt.

And there we are.

It kills me that I missed this. I had suspected, but wasn't able to sit in on his med check appointment last week.  It kills me that I didn't ask for him to retry the medicine we used when he was little, for mood disorder, that literally had no side effects for him. This will likely eat me away forever. 

He starts back on it tomorrow.  Along with, I would assume, something else to get him stable enough to leave. COVID restrictions allow me only a 15 minute visitation window in the next 6 days. I have talked to him twice.  The first time he was cognitive.  The second, he was either broken or medicated, but he did tell me he loved me, and I'll take that any way I can get it.

I feel like I've lost a limb. Like there's a giant piece of me missing. There's a pit in my stomach, and I cry at nothing. An inpatient facility was NEVER what I wanted for him. And I just hope that we can get him back to himself before he comes home. That the damage of ripping the rug out from under both of us, doesn't make him just want to take back off, and at 18, I'll never see him again.

I have spent the day controlling what I can control.  Which in this case means working to get him withdrawn from school, returning items unopened from the dorm, retuning books unread. Busy work basically, to minimize his stress when he gets home.

It took four hours.

I got a full refund on his books.

80% refund on his tuition.

90% refund on his housing

90% refund on his food

100% refund on his store account.

And a 70% refund on his refrigerator.

Impressive, yes?  Considering the current state of affairs for college financial right now.  Thing is, most of this was offered, and while some had to be negotiated, they didn't want this choice to follow him by way of 20 years of payments with ridiculous interest rates. And then they offered something different.  A full withdrawal from school, which means he'd never come back, or a leave of absence for 2 semesters.

A full year to decide what he wants to do.  On top of the refunds, he gets to reconsider.  To come back to a school where COVID isn't an issue.  Where sports resume.  Where socializing and making friends is encouraged. With a year's worth of maturity, and enough work experience to know that this is the right move for him instead of following the masses. And they are holding the same grants and merit scholarships he currently has, ensuring he can continue on for the same cost as 2020, through 2025. 

They are giving him a do-over.

Humanics. 

Giving his mind a chance to catch up.

Holding all parts equally important.

Ensuring a healthy body, mind, and spirit.

Educating the whole person.

What's Next (Part 2)

Tomorrow we leave to bring Youngest back to college.

He's on *probation* until April, so basically he can't even fart without being booted, but at least he has the opportunity to finish what he started.  He has mixed feelings about going back, and honestly so do I.

The rumor is that the cafeteria has at least opened back up for dine in or out, which means more meals can be eaten outside of the dorm room. The marketplace has opened as well, so there's other options (Dunkin', Subway, etc.) as well.  They order off the app and can grab it and go.  Again, with the dining hall being open, this will be huge for interaction with other kids. His in person classes start on Monday, all part of the be off campus by Thanksgiving plan. Dropping him off late at night tomorrow allows his to get dinner, but be ready for classes. 

He's been working through some big things while he's been home.  He's spent the last 2 days with the boys, which makes me think he and the girlfriend might be on a break.  She's very nice, but Hubs thinks it may be easier for him to be away without attachments.  He's angry at the college, that he was judged and treated harsher than the other boy involved in the stupidity.  He's also pissed that his fine is higher that the other kid, because the extra fine was for something that belonged to the other kid and not him. But that's a wash now I guess. He seems relived to learn that the cafeteria is open finally. His goal now is to get through the semester, pass, and then look at other options.  Which is sad really.  The last year all he could wait for is to get there, and between covid and snap judgments, that's all been ruined for him.  The school broke him, and there are no consequences for that. The plan right now is for him to come home every other weekend.  Honestly I'd get him every weekend but I think that might send a red flag for the covid issues, and no one wants that.

I try to remind him to embrace the dorky.  That if what everyone's doing in the dorm isn't his thing, find one that is.  Movies on the green, scavenger hunts, longboarding to the east campus, watching avatar in his room, whatever. This time when we get there, we are spending the time to hang the pictures, get the TV functioning, stocking the fridge with his favorites. Doing what we can to make it feel like home.

I worry a lot about how he'll be. But I am really trying to let it go. At best, he'll thrive.  At worst, we'll go back and pick him up. It's out of my control. And worrying is like wishing for the worst to happen.  So I'm trying my best to not do that.

Oldest, on the other hand, can't wait to get started on Tuesday.  He has multiple friends with apartments near campus, so while his day will be insanely long in the city, if he needs to he can crash there and come home in the morning. The car, that for now we are calling his, is all registered and inspected.  The drop off registry services, while confusing and far from home, are relatively painless.  He handled that and the inspection himself. 

Hubs is on vacation next week.  He is supposed to be getting tires on the truck thanks to an unexpected back pay in this week's paycheck.  Apparently payroll was supposed to be giving them an additional 1% of a contractual increase and they haven't for months.  It accumulated to quite a bit. So not only does he have the time to do it, but the money as well. We'll see if/when that happens.

I am back to the postal grind on Tuesday.  It's going to be a tough week, no doubt.  We are not getting on the road until 11 am most days due to poor scheduling of clerks.  Friday I did a voluntary second run of packages just so I didn't have to stand around for 2 hours doing nothing. This is the start of our Holiday season, and I'm weary that there will be a plan, or even a "Pla" to get us through it. 

On the upside though I did take a bit of time for myself this week.  Got the bills squared away, formulated a plan to get back on track by the end of the month.  It wasn't as bad as I thought. I got my hair cut for the first time in 2 years. The pile on the floor looked like a small dog when she was done. I colored it the next day on my own. I used some gift cards to get myself a facial and massage at the local spa.  Even fell asleep in the relaxation room after a long foot soak. It was lovely and, after my indulgent purchase of moisturizer at the girt shop, only cost me $15.

One things for sure, we all just can't keep going the way we're going.  Youngest has to figure things out on his own.  Oldest needs to move forward with his education and regain some sense of normal.  Hubs needs a break from work, and some quiet time to himself.  And I need to get back to taking care of me for a bit.

Because if Mom goes down, they'll all go down.

What Next?

The time of COVID has effected everyone differently.

Here, we did not get the time at home.  There was no mass cleaning of closets, organizing of spices and junk drawers, or compiling of old photos. We worked. All of us. And until the science evolved, we went in everyday unsure of if we would be bringing it home to each other, or to our extended families. There was gut wrenching guilt of going to the stores, going to work, seeing people, not seeing people, going without, and not going without.

Youngest's end of Senior year was horrendous, of which I have written a lot about. Although I suspect when looking back, he will love that the dog was at his drive through graduation ceremony, stealing the show in the middle front seat of the truck. As for the rest, just a blip on the radar of his life.

We've moved now into the beginning of Freshman and Sophomore years of college. I brought Oldest into the city today for his COVID test and you could see it in his face.  He misses it. The bustle of the city, living in the dorms, his friends. He has one in-person class this semester and it just doesn't make sense for his to live on campus if 90% of the time he'd be online anyway. Commuting in one day a week saves him $12K per semester and allows him to still stay connected. He agrees this is the right move at this time, but still, his heartbreak is palpable.

Youngest has no friends at his college yet, as he is just starting his freshman year. His school is about 3 hours away, far enough away for independence, and yet close enough for me to go get him.  Which is key, because 12 hours after dropping him off on Thursday, I was back to get him on Friday.

He made some very poor choices. Stupid choices combined with mass misunderstanding, and he had to come home.  He meets with a panel to see if he can continue on, or needs to find another path. In the hours it took to get to him, I had so many emotions, but mostly heartbreak. He was allowed to take only what he would need for a week at home, as opposed to cleaning out entirely, which is the norm.  That in itself is hopeful.  He started classes online today, along with all the other students, and hopefully can resume his hybrid classes on campus next week.  The semester in itself is a hybrid, having only 10 weeks on campus (now 9 for him) and the last 4 at home anyway.

I suspect he subconsciously sabotaged himself.  No one could possibly be that stupid. When he returned home he revealed a secret he'd been hiding from everyone for over a month that quickly eclipsed his temporary boot from school. I can't put the words on paper, but it was lifechanging, and when it resolved itself a few days later, you could see a tiny speck of life come back into him.  He's eating again, with the help of some herbal supplements, and been sober since Friday.

But here's the thing.... he's not sure he wants to go back.  He says the things he loved about the school are gone.  The gym is extremely limited. The Olympic sized swimming pool is closed. The pool and foosball tables are gone from all the lounges.  They can't sit more than 5 people in the common rooms. The cafeteria is grab and go only, so while the food is amazing, you have to go back to your room to eat it or sit out on the lawn, by yourself. It's a sports school with no sports.  The 100 year old tradition of freshman orientation, usually a huge rally in the stadium seats, with smaller breakout get-to-know-you groups, and crazy hats, had been reduced to groups of 15 sitting on the lawn in their funny hats listening to it on the radio. The second day of orientation was done completely remote because of weather, and in their dorm rooms. They literally haven't been able to explore the campus, or even meet other kids freely because they can't have more than 2 kids in a room. And masking is expected at all times unless they are alone in their rooms, eating, or showering. Which technically means that even when their roommate is is the room, the mask needs to be on... including sleeping.  Which is ridiculous.

Logically he knows that the school will return to the one he fell in love with, but that's not what he's emerged in right now. His classes can be converted to all online and he can see where the restrictions fall in January if he is allowed to continue on. But the distractions of home are plentiful, and I worry that he won't stick to the schedule he needs to in order to succeed. 

He's had a mentor since he was 8 from a local club he would go to afterschool.  He took him out that first Friday night and got him to unlock the secret, that of course opened the floodgate for a tiny bit of truthfulness with the rest of us. They went out to dinner again tonight. He told his brother that he's like his new therapist.  And I'm good with that, I need all the help I can get with him. I suspect they are talking about what's next, and if it's possible for him to sit in the college meeting on Thursday as a mentor, since I am not able to. Literally, the college won't allow parents/guardians to be part of any disciplinary hearings.

Again, ridiculous.

But these were his poor choices, and his consequences. He will have to advocate for himself, better than he ever has, and hope that's enough. And then if he has the opportunity, he will have to decide what's next for himself. Tough it out on campus, remote learning, or start over entirely.

And that of course is the issue for all of us right now, right? 

Determining what's next in this year of 2020.

Murder hornets. 

Riots.

EEE outbreaks. 

Australia to California has burned to the ground, Louisiana is underwater.

Masks, no masks, follow the arrows or not.

Hurricanes, bizarre storms, micro bursts.

Stocks plummet, Billionaires somehow profit.

Our freedom, literally has left us unable to move about the world freely.

Online, offline, job, no job.

Non essential, essential, sacrificial.

Orange Man, Sniffing Man.

2020, What's next?

Let's Go There...

 

This was from the USPS's Twitter feed, as per the original content, I did not Snope it, fact check it, or otherwise, I don't feel I need to.  Because after 17 years with the Postal Service, I can tell you that + or - a few million, it's likely to be accurate.

When I divorced it became clear that with two under two, there was no way I could go back to the career I once knew.  As a single Mom there was no way I could leave my kids for 16 hours during holiday season or duck out at 2 am for alarm calls. At one point in my job search, I saw a mail lady, hanging out the right hand side of her car, delivering mail from box to box.  I distinctly remember thinking. "If I ever have to do that, I'll know I've hit rock bottom."

Six months later, I too, was hanging out of my car., and seventeen years later here I still am. Everyday I go in, deliver every piece of mail sorted to me, every package, grocery flyers and all, and make it back before the outgoing mail truck each night.  A long time ago I made the decision to be content in what I was doing to support my family.  It's not heroic, not brain science, and not rewarding. It's a job.  One that puts a roof over my head, food on the table, and pays for nice vacations when I can afford to take them. It provides us health insurance, security, and for me, human connection that has all but been lost in the way of technology.  I made the decision that while it was not glamorous, that I would be the best I could be (most days) at what I was doing.  My goal is that when people talk smack about the Postal Service, my customers will look at them and say, "I have no idea what you're talking about.  I love my mail lady."

And they have.  My customers have rallied behind me, and us, to show their support.  They ask how I'm doing physically, having volumes higher than Holiday for the last 5 months, and mentally, being the center of a political crossfire. The answer is the same... 

"We are tired.  But we got this."

And in truth, we do have this. I have roughly 650 homes on my medium sized route. If there are 2 voters in each home, and 75% of them want to vote by mail, that would be 975 pieces of mail that I would have to hand sort. I am not fast, but I am accurate.  It would take me two hours if they all showed up on the same day, which they won't. Rest assured I can get that done, and do, when the machines break down and we have to sort trays of mail, carry the grocery flyers, medications, over 250 packages, and make it back before the 630 outgoing truck.

The talk of blue boxes being removed, removing mail sorting machines, delaying mail etc. has been done for years, not just now.  And while it makes a HUGE sensational point for the media and politicians alike, it's not new.  They are calling it delaying mail, we have called it load leveling for 20 years.  Machines that are as big as a football field, that take 40 people to run, don't get turned on if there isn't enough catalogs to run them.  It's not cost effective. And while some plants and supervisors took the new PMG's directions way off into left field, just as many did not. And I assure you, the mail is rolling off the machines and into trucks daily.

They removed our mail sorting machines ten years ago.  It was part of a streamline process to have all local towns processed out of one central hub.  It cuts down on trucking costs, man power, and allows our clerks to work only our mail.  Again... it's been ten years, and our mail shows up every time, on time.

We've also removed blue boxes for years.  Every 3 months our outgoing blue boxes get counted for 2-3 weeks to see how many people are using them.  If they have less than 25 or so pieces a week, they are removed. 90% of the time these are boxes that were once in thriving areas that have gone vacant, or another blue box was installed in a more visible location. In some areas we have added boxes depending on the use that the boxes get. 

And the thought that any carrier would throw away ballots because they don't agree with that party?  It's crap. First, no one will risk their job for a handful of votes. Second, ain't no one got time for that sh!t. Seriously. I am paid by the day. This means that if I work 14 hours or 6, I am paid for 8. With the package volume now I barely make it back within my evaluation and many days work for free.  I will not waste a second on that nonsense.  Our state has nondescript ballot return envelopes, but if someone's actually concerned about it, they can always mail it back in their own envelope.  The whole thing is just ridiculous.  And rest assured, if the PO wants to track a piece of mail, they can. We do scan checks every day to verify how long mail takes to get to a customer, and track accuracy through GPS that it is getting into the correct box. I assure you, if something goes wonky, *they* will know.

As for our new PMG, he's the boss, and there will be big changes coming down the line. As employees, we get this. The Post Office needs to change and adapt if it wants to be viable.  But what the public and congress needs to remember is that we are a service, NOT a company, granted to every person in this country, that no matter what their income or location, this country provides. And while we don't make billions in profits, we don't take a dime of tax payer money.  NOT A DIME. Our costs are governed by Congress, and our price increases can not increase more than the cost of living. This is again, to ensure everyone can afford to use our services.  

That said, I do have three main areas of concern. First, the current administration's executive order to investigate the post office using tax payer money when he first took office. Not understanding how the PO works, he ultimately spent a ton of money, investigating nothing.  The only report back was upper management needing to be cut (which everyone knew) and eliminate the longevity retirement for the workers. So basically, they could save costs by eliminating the extra 1% retirement for people who retire with longer than 30 years of service. In other words, they will save money buy shorting the people who have spent a lifetime getting it done. He also froze all new full time positions for a time, because not having any idea how we work as a private entity, there was no clarification of how we would proceed with getting the job done.

Second, the postal inspectors were responsible for the arrest of Bannon for money laundering. The thought that POTUS's business affiliate was using the Post Office to launder money is more than a red flag, and deeply disturbing.

And third, the new PMG. Being a lifetime appointment, regardless of who is in office, he can stay in his position. Which is fine, but raises some concerns.  In 2014 he sold his personal logistics company to XPO, for 614Million, and still retains a 30M stake in XPO, which just happens to be the logistics company for the Post Office. He also holds an enormous stake in Amazon, who while being a major contributor, is also a major competition for the PO with their expansion of planes and fleets of private delivery trucks. With a foot in each, it's hard to renegotiate the contract for what we get paid for parcel delivery fairly and without bias. He also purchased stock options that allow him to buy Amazon stocks at a discounted rate, so if business is lost to Amazon, either through failed contract negotiation, or a dismantling of the USPS from within, he can quickly and inexpensively benefit.

Please know that this was never meant to be a political post, but rather a venting of all things hitting us at this moment. Personally I am insulted that people think that something as small as mail in ballots would devastate the postal service, a service that has survived for 240 years, through more than one pandemic. I am resentful that through it all my mail truck has kept rolling, with NO OVERTIME OR HAZARD PAY. Every other federal employee was given hazard pay for continuing to work through COVID. Ours is still being debated in Congress. I hate that we're being used as a political ploy to cast doubt on what I do everyday and take pride in doing well. Honestly, there's a lot of things I'm feeling right now, but many I can't compile into words. So for now, I will continue rolling in my mail truck, getting it done. 

In 107 degrees.  

In -7 degrees. 

Snow.  

Hail. 

Hurricanes.  

Micro Bursts. 

Fire. 

In my TWENTY NINE year old truck.

Because the very first thing the new PMG did before all the other crap the media is talking about, is stop the production of the new mail trucks.  

You know, the ones that can accommodate our package volumes, can load without injuring our backs, have minimal blind spots for accidents, have more than just one wheel drive, and don't randomly catch fire.

Because why on Earth would we need to be safe while ensuring the sanity of the mail... 

...and all those ballots?

 

 What I really need is a good pair of Spanx.  

One that can hold my life together.

Seriously.

August is winding down, and settling somewhat in a holding pattern for us.  Oldest's job extended out two weeks as the public school's don't start now until mid September. He's opted to only stay on an additional week, so as to have some down time to get ready for college.  As of now he will be commuting in for his one day a week in person lab, and the rest will be online.  If it can stay that way, it's the best of both worlds for him and with a savings of 12K, he may opt to do it again next semester. 

Youngest leaves in 11 days for college, provided he screens COVID negative once he arrives on campus. I've been suggesting smaller circles after this weekend to maximize the odds. Some suggestions have been taken, others not. Course, it helps that he totaled the car... again. If you're keeping track, he rolled a car on the highway in February, had a not at fault accident in a traffic rotary in May, and now in August, totaled another car. So with Oldest working and being gone 11 hours a day, that leaves one car for the three of us to share. Needless to say, he's spent a lot of time at home, and we're all in agreement that he shouldn't drive for the rest of the time he's home. He's also dragging his feet on figuring out the rest of what he needs for dorm life.  Yes, he has a few things that he grabbed with me a few weeks back, but if he doesn't get it together he'll be standing in the shower catching foot fungus just getting wet due to his lack of shower shoes, shampoo, soap, and a razor.

Work is never-ending, a good day now is one when I don't work over my evaluated time, also known as working for free. I spent 30 minutes in bed this morning trying to feel my fingertips. The excessive workload of people ordering stuff online has done a number on the nerves in my back and neck. And there's no end in sight, unlike Holiday season, which is dauting. And taking time off is not really an option as everyone's already running thin. The corner of the office I'm in is known as the happy corner, nothing but rainbows and unicorns.  But lately the unicorn's run off, and I'm almost out of glitter. 

So now, in the midst of regular shopping, packing, and fighting with the insurance company, we're searching for a new car.  One that's reliable and safe enough to commute in and out of the city, yet doesn't break the bank. In the mean time I have no choice but to get a rental car while we figure things out. The irony is I was at the dealership 2 weeks ago in hopes of getting rid of my car, and of course, I am upside down on it for now.  So the kids will get a *new* car, by I will still be driving the old. The old car, that as of tonight, needs breaks. Awesome.

So where were we?

Yeah... the Spanx.

Anyone got a coupon code for that?

Challenging Everything He Knows...

Youngest: "You know, sometimes I don't think that we need to be gluten free.  I think maybe it's not really a real thing, like because we can have small amounts and be okay."

Me: "Okay..."

Youngest: "So I ate a whole bag of pretzel goldfish"

Me: "And?"

Youngest: "Oh, it's real.  I feel like crap."

I'm not sure why he has chosen the last six months to question everything, literally, about who he is. For those of us who love him it has been an extremely difficult ride.  Intellectually I know he needs to find his way, to figure out who he is, and more importantly, who he's not.

There have been many ups and downs.

He's struggling with ways to cut back and or be sober for a day or two at a time. 

He really loves longboarding. When his anxiety kicks up he's out the door, rolling down the street.  Often he's back in 10 minutes, but with a clear head and focus.  

He's spending a lot of time at the beach and the pond.

He's trying to incorporate more regular work outs and time to eat real food.  He joined us out for dinner the other night.  We noted the bill was higher than it's been in a long time because all four of us where together. At first he contested, and then really reflected on how long it had been since we all sat at a table together.  Months.  He'd been absent for months.

He's struggling with his sexuality, dropping on us that he thought he maybe bi. After some discussion, and meeting the boy of his affection, he's reached the reality that deep down he's into girls. I'm not sure what he thought our reaction would be, or why his revelations wouldn't be met with adversity.  But when it wasn't, it was much easier for him to work though. And while the boy was very nice, in the end he's seems to have found a nice local girl, with whom he's decided to be exclusive with, at least until he leaves for school. Focusing on just one girl has allowed an all over calmness to him which has been really, really nice.

He's been camping, alone, randomly in the woods.  Sometimes he pitches a tent, other times he just hangs a hammock.  He says he just sits in the quiet and reads. At first I was concerned because he was literally just picking random places in neighboring towns. But recently he has acquiesced to my requests of camping at his aunt's field.  With 3 acres, he can camp in the field out front, be on private property out of danger, and pretty isolated from people. And he loves the sound of the train at night.

He's spending more time at home, watching TV, cooking his favorites.

We are fighting less. Some of this is because of better choices, and more respectful behavior. Some of it is because I have just given up.  It's just not worth my effort. He knows how I feel about certain things and somedays he just doesn't care.

He tried shocking us with thoughts of getting a tattoo.  Again, I don't think he was expecting our support. So much support, that we helped him find the perfect image for what he wanted, discussed the best placements for him to weigh out, and called the shop to schedule an appointment with a world renown artist. And just like that, his urgency to get it, cooled down a bit.  I still think he'll get it, but instead of something rushed that he'll regret later, it will be well placed, meaningful, and exactly what his original intent was.

His uncle on his dad's side is circling around again.  They went out to breakfast a few weeks ago, and are going again tomorrow.  It's been 8 years since he's contacted them. I know this is something they have to work through, but I feel as if they are being set up for something.  That family is severely dysfunctional and while they know all about it, the momma in me is really having a difficult time letting them walk freely into shark cage.

He asked me last week if we could go dorm shopping.  He doesn't need much, but he wanted to pick up a few things. He picked out a back pillow, the color of which needs to be ordered online, and coordinated the micro-fridge rental with his roommate. We found quite a bit of goodies at TJMaxx, so much that we needed a cart.  As I was rolling around the garden décor, he came to me with this...

Hard to believe that we'll be packing up and moving him and his plans for world domination into is new home away from home.

26 days and counting.