Quiet times: Day 27

I'm not going to say life is chaotic around my house, but it can be a challenge to find a few quiet minutes.

For example, the other day I thought I'd lie down on the couch for half an hour or so and read my novel. (Not a novel I wrote, or course, but a novel Meg Wolitzer wrote titled The Wife, which was made into a movie that stars Glenn Close, which could make me hate Meg Wolitzer if she weren't such a clever and engaging writer. Also she probably writes instead of taking naps. sigh.) I digress.

Coraline was engaged in her own rest period upstairs and Elvira was out, so the room was quiet. My eyes started to close -- pretty much like they are now -- and I decided a 15-minute nap was in order. I set my alarm for 15 minutes and settled in, already starting to drift off. I just love a good power nap, don't you?

I was sound asleep for about five minutes before Elvira came home. Her footsteps on the porch woke me up. She banged her way into the house and threw a big plastic bag down on the floor. Of course the 3 dogs got up and started barking and milling around, clicking their toenails. I kept my eyes closed. She went into the kitchen and graciously unloaded the dishwasher, which necessitated some banging around of dishes, pans, and cupboards. Finally she went outside to smoke a cigarette. I dozed back off. She came back in, slammed the door and went upstairs. To her room above the front parlor. Above my fucking head. She walked around for a while. Coraline came in and did a few cartwheels or jumped off the bed a few times. I don't know. I covered my head in case plaster should start falling.

Finally it was quiet up there and the dogs settled down. I drifted .... From the fire station up the street came a firetruck, sirens blasting, racing past on the street half a block away. I listened to it fade into the distance and drifted off again ..... only to startle awake when my text notification went off ... three times. Damn it. I risked a glance at my phone. The texts could wait. I only had 5 minutes left now. I closed my eyes again and fell asleep, desperate now for just a few minutes. I had to get up when my alarm went off to get ready to go out. This was my only chance to satisfy my nap urge.

I was there. I was almost there when my phone started to ring. I picked it up .... a fucking telemarketer. Assholes. I hit dismiss and resolutely closed my eyes again. Twenty seconds later I was slipping into a dream when the notification for a voicemail went off and jolted me awake yet again. It's not bad enough they call, but they leave partial messages that tell me to press 1 to talk to a representative. Dumb assholes. I didn't let that stop me.

I forced myself back to sleep .... for all of 30 seconds and that's when my alarm went off. Naptime was over.

No sleep deprivation here. Nope. No way.

Another example. Tonight after dinner I told Coraline we needed to do our meditation before she went to bed. We try to do it every afternoon or evening because it noticeably helps her focus better at school. We only sit still for 6 minutes, but I'd like to work up to 10. Ten peaceful, empty-minded minutes to sit in silence. We invited Elvira to sit with us, but she decided to meditate on a cigarette outside. Out she went with the dogs.

Coraline got into position criss-cross applesauce in an easy chair. I sat on the couch, took off my slippers and grounded my feet on the floor. We took 3 big deep breaths together and then I pressed start on the timer on my meditation app. Gooooonnnnnnngggggggg. The gong gonged and I tried to clear all thoughts from my head. Once the gong had faded, the only sounds were the clock ticking, some muted traffic noise, and my own tinnitus. Ahhh.

But what is that? A high-pitched tone intruded. High high C, if I wasn't mistaken. Steady and insistent. Surely that wasn't coming from inside my head? No. I'm not supposed to be thinking. Let that thought go. The sound persisted. Faint. Steady. About half a step below a dog whistle.

I heard the side-porch door open. Oh for fuck's sake. Surely she hadn't smoked that cigarette that fast.

"I know you're meditating and I don't want to interrupt," Elvira contradicted, "but can you hear that sound? It sounds like an alarm going off."

Sigh. I turned off the meditation app and slipped into my slippers. "I'll come check."

"I don't think it's the next door neighbors," she said. "They seem to be just watching TV or something." I was outside by now, the pitch much louder now. "I don't think it's the purple house. Theirs didn't sound like that the time I accidentally set it off."

I walked through the falling snow to the back of the house. The sound was urgently annoying, like a super loud malfunctioning florescent light. It was definitely louder in the back, but I still couldn't pinpoint the location ....

And then it just stopped. At first I wasn't sure it had really stopped, but it did. Fine. Whatever it was I wasn't going to figure it out tonight.

Back inside, Coraline and I got back into position, and Elvira settled into another chair. I reset the timer. Goooonnnnngggggg. Eyes closed, I once again attempted to clear my mind. 

Crow, my standard poodle, started lapping his tongue in and out of his mouth, making a loud licking sound. I fucking hate that sound. Notice your annoyance and let that thought go, I thought, although I wasn't supposed to be thinking. He gave a few more laps and then settled down. Good.

Growl. Growl. Kohl. Elvira's border collie. Growling because Crow was in the room. It's constant. The growling whenever we all settle into one room. He hates Crow. Growl growl. I fucking hate that sound. But I tried to see my annoyance in my quiet fucking mind and let it go on by. Clearing my mind. An intense itch erupted next to my nose. I don't think you're supposed to scratch, I thought. You're supposed to just notice it and .... I scratched. I couldn't stand it. Clearing my mind now.

Growl. Growl.The furnace came on, reminding me of the $200 service call I'd paid for earlier in the day. You'd better fucking heat this house, I thought. Ooops. Letting go. Growl. Growl.

Either my mind started to clear or I started to doze off. I'm not sure, but Growl. Growl. I felt a soft plop on the couch next to me and a loud purr started. Gandalf. I sat still. Growl. Growl. I tried so hard to let my thoughts just slip out of my mind. I focused on breathing through my nose. I felt a small paw pushing at my leg. Growl. Growl. Push push. He bumped his head against my wrist. Growl. Growl. Push. Push.

Finally he settled down alongside my leg with his head on my arm. Growl. Growl. His purr was loud, but not distracting. Deep breath. Growl. Purrrrrr. I'm getting there. Growl. Growl. Gandalf suddenly decided he needed to lick his butt. He furiously licked licked licked licked licked. Growl. Growl. Lick. Lick.

Will that fucking furnace never shut off, I thought as a hot flash started burning its way out of me and my entire body flushed with a layer of sweat. I want to whip my scarf off so at least my neck will cool off, but I already scratched my nose so NO. Growl. Growl. Oh. My. God. I'm noticing that my body feels like it's engulfed in flames under my skin and I'm letting that thought go. Growl. Growl. Breathing. Emptying my mind. In. Out. Growl. Growl. In. Out.

Goooonnnnnnggggggg. 

Meditation over. Growl .... Growl. Sigh.

Day 6: In which Donald doesn't help

Tonight I'm following up on my post about my airline ticket fiasco the other day. I received a message back from USAA. Here, I'll let you read it.

Dear Ms. [Reticula],

I have received your message concerning your purchase of airline tickets. I understand the credit card information was entered incorrectly and I would like to provide you some information.

First and foremost, I apologize the system error you received did not specify what exactly the issue was, as 'our system has experienced an issue' certainly seems like it was related to the site and not the card information. Furthermore, I am sorry to hear the ticket prices climbed quite a bit by the time you were able to call in to determine what the problem was. I will be passing this information on to the Voice of the Member Team in a effort to communicate this concern to the provider of the website you were using. It is my hope they will make the necessary changes to make error messages more detailed so a situation similar to yours can be avoided in the future. I understand there are several different ways you could have spent the money rather than paying the higher price for the tickets and for the frustration that could have potentially been avoided.

If you have questions, please reply to this message, live chat with us or call us at 210-531-USAA (8722), our mobile shortcut #8722 or 800-531-8722.
 

USAA is here to ensure that we protect your financial security. Please let us know if we may provide any further information or assistance.

Thank you,
Donald C****

My first thought is that Donald needs to take an introductory business writing class. Or any kind of writing class whatsoever. 

My second thought is that they should hire me to write these letters, because I've taught business writing. My response would have been, "Fuck that, Reticula. You should raise holy hell over that shit. Let me give the number for the CEO's private line. He needs to hear about this!"

My third thought is that this is the most awkward attempt at empathy I've ever seen, and not even an attempt at resolving my issue. Guess what I can buy with bad empathy? Not a damn thing.

And my fourth thought is that USAA didn't do fuck all to ensure the protection of my financial security. In fact, in case Donald forgot by the time he got to that line in his letter, they lowered my financial security by $280.00. I could have bought the new laptop I need with that amount of financial security. Oh, but wait. Donald said he understood I could have used that money for something else. Oops. That's a relief.

I haven't replied to Donald's letter. I'm afraid I would scald him, so I'm waiting to cool down. It's been a day and a half so far. I'm not there yet.

One thing I hate is false sympathy. I don't think empathy can be faked, so I'll call this sympathy. Like when somebody acts concerned about your feelings when they're the ones who caused your hurt feelings in the first place, and they aren't willing to do what is necessary to fix what they did. Or when they say, "I understand" when they don't fucking understand at all, because they don't know you.

I don't need Donald's sympathy, and his understanding obviously isn't going to resolve my problem. And I don't give a shit whether their contractor fixes their website, because I won't be using it again. That's not a resolution to my problem, and my problem is all I care about.

I honestly didn't think anything would happen. I've already bought the tickets, and they are non-refundable. Either we fly or  we don't, but they've got my money either way. It's probably not poor Donald's fault, so I probably shouldn't just copy this and send it to him. Right?

I should say this is the most awkward message I've ever received from USAA, and usually their customer service is excellent. They were so helpful when I wrecked my van and had no idea what to do. And their rates are below anybody else's, probably because they serve military personnel and dependents, and we're pretty good about paying our bills.

Donald though. He doesn't seem to fit in with the rest of them. So I'll call it anomaly, just one more act in this shit show. And when I fly, I'll insist on extra pretzels. That will show them!