postaweek2011 – Life As An Art Form

The term “zero tolerance” is thrown about quite a bit these days. You hear it in school anti-bullying platforms, corporate quality control procedures, and more intimately, with regards to gender, sexual orientation, and race-based discrimination. But what about discrimination against folks that are just plumb dumb? Is that allowed? Let me clarify that by “dumb”, I’m referring to a segment of society that acts as if somehow the possession of even an iota of common sense makes no sense at all. These are folks with access and information at their fingertips. The last time I checked, you didn’t have to be Harvard-educated to have some damn sense about you. Great day!

Through a series of events over the last few days, I’ve come to discover that there are even lower levels of tolerance than zero. It seems that I have a below-sub-zero tolerance for stupidity. That’s not redundant, if you’re wondering. I want to make sure that you get “it” – my level of intolerance – that is. (I’m holding up the peace sign, as made famous by Martin Lawrence, moving it from the front of my eyes to yours, to signify the connection that I’m trying to establish with you as we move this conversation forward. You feel me?) When crossed, my threshold for air between the ears creates an unnerving sensation in my body, and brings out the absolute worse in me. The display just makes me want to reach across the counter and snatch somebody stupid! So much for anti-bullying! 😮

Yesterday I was thankful for good healthcare, and today, I am just p.o’d at the folks that stand in the way of my actually getting this care, and the host of enabling systems and accompanying cast of characters – from the “I can’t think for myself/that’s not in my job description/can I do anything else for you today?” chick at the pharmacy counter, to the parent committee chair who simply regurgitates a presented problem, adding absolutely no value of her own, while refusing to even consider the recommendations that are given. After all, considering a recommendation might actually require one to think, as well as act, and who has time for all that work? So then I’m left to wonder if this is stupidity or sheer laziness. I don’t know…I’m just saying.

It’s as if these characters are on auto-pilot, paid not to think. Perhaps they think they would be rendered incapacitated by a creative or independent thought. I can’t imagine what would happen were they required to manually calculate change at a cash register. Heaven forbid! I’m not asking for them to fly me to the moon, but could you just go a little deeper…please…try me. How am I supposed to maintain my composure and sense of decorum when I’m confronted with this foolishness? I’m clueless. So in the meantime, after numerous attempts at civility with pharmacists, receptionists, apprentices, and “customer service” representatives, I find myself boomeranging up and down two major streets, in between pharmacies, and then going home to wait on these dumb “professionals” to call me when they’re good and ready with something as vital as medicine for a sick child. Daggone shame! This just doesn’t seem right, especially when so many folks are unemployed.

Thanks for listening! You’ve been great! 😮 Now it’s your turn to quip about the subject. Come on, indulge me with your personal encounter of “Stupid in Motion”, and together we can probably come up with something for counteracting. Better yet, share with me why you think this phenomenon is sweeping the nation at such an alarming rate.

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How many times have you turned on the stove to boil water for tea, to remember that you did so only when you actually heard the whistle? Too many times, I manage my day based on what screams for my immediate attention. “The squeaky wheel gets the grease”, goes the old saying, but today I vowed to take care of the bigger and more critical matters that would transport us well into the future and pay dividends for our family in the long run. Though less demanding and intrusive, I knew that these matters had the potential to bubble over as they seemed to only require that I check on them sporadically as they were now on a slow, less threatening simmer setting.

I find myself wanting to streamline my visible spaces, and de-clutter them in a big way as their physical existence beckons for my touch. I look at everything in my home with a keen eye, asking myself whether it should stay or go. I’m on a mission to give away the things in our home that can bless others, discard the stuff that nobody would want, and organize what’s left.

Lately however, despite my deepest desires to cut the clutter and trim the fat in more places than one, I’ve had to become much more disciplined about managing my time versus organizing my tangible space and things to ensure that the “must-do’s” don’t fall through the cracks. As a result, I’m left with very little time to focus on the “nice-to-do’s”, including any major de-cluttering. Since I’m not diagnosed OCD – self or medically – you don’t have to worry about finding me on my hands and knees cleaning out corners or color-coding towels in the linen closet. After all, I’d hate to raise the bar too high. 🙂 Nonetheless, I’ve had to become more diligent and discerning about those matters that should command my time and attention, versus those matters that only seem urgent because of their visibility.

So today, while I didn’t do a whole lot of organizing or de-cluttering, I was most definitely in the zone! I rode that wave of productivity and held her hostage until she said “I surrender! No mas! Qué quieres de mί, mujer?” 🙂 I so needed a day like today. Though it began with my being less bright-eyed and bushy-tailed than usual, I felt really good. Like most mornings, I am so happy to be alive when I wake up, that I’d jump to kiss the sun if I could…especially after a really great cup of coffee! Seriously. I revel in the knowledge that I’ve been given another day, another tabula rasa…another chance to get it right. What unseats me more than being sleep-deprived is not being productive. When I know that I’ve procrastinated long enough on something, and can’t find the words to explain why, I feel less than adequate, because I have only myself to blame. So despite my needing a few additional hours of sleep, I was determined to make it a good day, to organize myself versus my things, to be productive, to be at peak performance, and I would not, and did not, settle for anything less!

Should I learn tomorrow that some things did, in fact, fall through the cracks, I will chalk it up to them just not being all that important in the first place. Today’s clarity will not be contested. I still might not get the doctor-recommended, coveted eight hours of sleep tonight, but I will rest well with the contentment that came from a day well-lived. Yay me! Everyone needs a “yay me” day.

ADD & Desk Clutter… Or a Clean, Lean Production Machine! (psychologytoday.com)
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