October is also apparently the month of complainers. Yup, I said it out loud. Whoa, did I miss the memos and the memes announcing October as the month to air all grievances? National Bitch About Everything Month.
Here’s my disclaimer: maybe I am a bit frazzled and frayed around the edges due to the aforementioned non-stop days filled with fifteen hours of responsibilities. The little “things” are like subtle sandpaper rubbing with gentle friction until my nerves are screaming: out “SERIOUSLY!?”
Our local prelude to the Mayoral election in early November is getting pretty messy and the cesspool is enlarging by day. Politics is ugly; always has been muddy and always will be. We have an incumbent who has done a pretty decent job since 1994 – nearly twenty years. The man has a pretty sordid personal life, one that would certainly make fodder for reality TV fans and spawns much of the town drama. Is a public servant subject to the same rules of morality in his ability to do his job? I would not want to be judged on my ability to do my career based on the skeletons in my closet. Personally, I am good at what I do in my day to day means of earning a living. Is it my boss’s business what I do behind closed doors? I have my own heavy judgments on said incumbent candidate, but as an “educated” voter, is it not my duty to weigh the pros and cons of each candidate and determine who the best person for the job is?
When the campaigning began, I knew very little of the opponent – the person brave enough to face the long term resident of the mayoral office. I have been doing my research and soaking up more information about this relatively unknown person who has actually been sitting in a civil seat. However, the election ramp up has become a vat of uber-toxic mud-wrestling and frankly, I have had enough. I am very eager to hear both sides and listen to the debates; but unfortunately, the negative campaigning has overruled any rational logic. My thoughts of moving to a deserted island, where none of this “BS” exists, is surmounting and immensely appealing.
I really dislike being told what to do. Therefore, telling me not to vote for the incumbent because you think he’s a scumbag or that he’s a typical politician does not sway my vote one way or another. Telling me that I should not vote for the relative new-comer because she’s a bitch, not invested in our community and is a scapegoat for another candidate down the line also does not sway my vote on the matter. Tell me why your candidate is the best person for the job! Tell me why your candidate can continue to make my home town community the stellar place it is! Otherwise, I may simply turn my hearing aid off and start singing, “Puff The Magic Dragon” (which, by the way, my thirteen year old son informs me is “stupid” and “about drugs”. WHAT? I loved that movie as a young child, it’s not about drugs!)
Of course, as I continue my personal efforts to make a change in my society through my charitable endeavors, the complaints rifle through my pretty pink pathway as well. The phrase, “No Good Deed Goes Unpunished” is ripe and relevant as we surge through the third week of the month of breast cancer causes. The critics, the nay-sayers, the haters, and local friends are mouthing off about so much……..um, stuff. I apologize if my eyes involuntarily roll up backwards into my head as the simultaneous toxic verbiage spews out of your mouth. I do not intend to be disrespectful whatsoever. I simply choose which negativity gets any of my attention or not. (Usually the latter).
Perhaps my own “adventure” through cancer land has given me a different set of tools in which to navigate life. As much as I am working on the eyeball roll thing (I know it’s not flattering), I am about as clichéd as it gets and I do not “sweat the small stuff”. While the complainers may be sitting high on their bitching bandwagon, I prefer to go my own way, even alone if necessary.
Yesterday, after my own oncology visit, I quickly scooted over for a visit with a loved one who is currently waging her own war on the hematology oncology floor at the hospital. While my friends are engaging in verbal battles of town politics; or blaming others for what makes them angry at life – my world stops so I can take in a warrior simply trying to stay alive. Side effects from the very poison that will keep her alive are raging rampant on her body. Her now non-existent immune system does not allow me my nurturing nature of wanting to hold her, rock her and comfort her with my human touch. The strongest girl alive is now weepy because she does not feel well and in fact, she hates to admit that she feels so very weak. My heart breaks off into a million little pieces and my own eyes are filled to the brim with tears. I suffered horrifically during my cancer treatment so that no one else I loved had to ever face the same awful torment. Yet, here she is – falling apart – so that she can come back together again, stronger and more beastly than ever before……but she has to experience it and we have to watch it.
As I was feeling angry about the trend of the recent weeks becoming 2013’s Bitch-Fest, I was overwhelmed with the task of calibrating my feelings and emotions. For all the good going on in the world, my rose-colored glasses were fogging up and fast. I needed help.
And then it came.
A fellow soccer mom showed me her young daughter’s social media post in which she talked about being inspired to make positive change in her world. When I was about to lose some of my own hope while nursing my broken heart, the bright light lit me up and filled my very being. Based on my own personal choices and the roads I choose to embark upon, a young girl thanked me for showing her the way. Suddenly, my vigor is re-fueled and I know what I have to do......what a gift from her to me!October is a beautiful month, filled with changing leaves and comforting stews. Yes. Life is also a spectacular opportunity to embrace change and comfort one another. I am ready. Are you?
Here's a great way someone else started: http://now.msn.com/diner-picks-up-tab-after-overhearing-bad-news-in-boston-restaurant