b–Making Yourself Crazy

I believe each of us has favorite ways to make ourselves crazy. You know that stuff when you sit there thinking about all the stuff that has, will, might, or is happening. Sometime it is worrying about how we will survive if terrorists shut down the water supply, where can we save enough water that won’t go bad on you? Could we fill the bathtub or would we just waste it because the dogs got into it or would algae take over. We could use it to flush the toilet once it got grotty enough. Or should you use Grecian Formula for Women or will it take out too much gray, some looks nice but how much makes you look old? I wonder how much that costs. Maybe it’s too late as I haven’t seen a real brown hair on my head for 10 years at least. Then there is the issue of the dog who has taken to eating his food bowls or at least the rubber, non-slid coating from the bottom. Will the bowl now turn over or will the plastic make him throw up after I just get out of the shower and now have to clean it up? The blessing is none of these things has happened yet.

It seems my craziness has a mean streak. I’m pretty fed up with this neighborhood in general. What started me this morning was being unreasonably pleased that the trash men didn’t pick up the trash across the street. I don’t know why I haven’t gone and told them what the problem is but I haven’t. They have lived in that house for like 2 months and can’t figure out that the trash they put in the recycling bin isn’t going to be picked up by the trash men. They also can’t figure out the recycling men won’t take the trash in the recycling bin. I’m waiting to see how long it takes them to figure this out. I wonder what conversations others on the street have about this. Do they watch the trash men and smile as they pass by the way we do? Do they have the same guilty feeling for being such a poor neighbor as to not tell them? But they must all kind of wonder like I do, how long will it take them to figure it out?

My newest craziness is moving. What joy! Here is an cornucopia of things to fantasize about. Now, mind you, as we move forward in this adventure the sources for things to make me crazy kind of diminish but so far we haven’t even seen a house so there are boundless things to go crazy about. What if there is the steep driveway, will it be possible to put in steps with a hand rail so I don’t have to drive to the bottom of the drive way just to cross the street? I want a bay window. Do I want curtains or should I hang plants as a visual barrier, what if there isn’t enough light but I want plants? I so want a good exposure for the the orchids. See, I’m having a ball.

I can’t even decide on a realtor, how am I going to make other decisions. What if the realtor doesn’t really know the area we want to move into? What if he doesn’t find the houses fast enough and we keep losing out because we don’t know about them? What if we chose one and find a better one? How do we know if they are good? How upset will I be when we don’t get the first house I want? What if we don’t bid high enough, can we try again?

And the loan; Word of Warning: DON’T CONTACT QUICKEN they will drive you even crazier. Seriously, we got 2, TWO letters from them just today after I told them last week to leave us alone. Every time the phone rings my hair stands on end that it is them, AmVets or the cleaning service which I used last year who won’t leave me alone despite several demands that they do so. I have had to learn to desensitize myself to being rude and just hang up on them. I don’t want to listen to all 6 rings we have the phone set to so I have time to get to it before the answering machine picks up. I just pick up the receiver and drop it back down now.

I used to want to do that to my mother at times but do you what happens when you do that to your mother? You’d better have a good story about how that happened. So now I make up stories to tell her when I might have done it but she passed away over 10 years ago so it didn’t happen. I’m still trying to develop an approach to the “unavailable” calls. So far I just wait to see who it is but that makes me crazy. Isn’t there some way to set the phone to go straight to the answering machine when the caller ID doesn’t have an ID? How can they not have invented that yet? Who could I contact to invent that? I’ll have to google that.

I have a friend who is better at making herself crazy than anyone I know. She got on a spiritual kick some time back. Now there is a real cornucopia of things to go crazy over and there is no cure. You never get real answers to any of the stuff you can worry about. Her biggest thing is worrying over if the bible is true. What if Mary was a virgin, which I keep pointing out to her wasn’t even a thing until about 400 years after she died. I love listening to her. She makes me feel like a novice at obscure concerns. It is quite a blessing to realize you aren’t the biggest crazy out here. She got this puppy about 4 years ago. She said she wanted a little dog that could sit in her lap, which seemed like a reasonable plan as she lives in an efficiency. She called me to come meet her new puppy. I asked her what breed it was and she was unsure. She said the pound told her it was probably some kind of Chow cross as it had a black tongue. I’m already dubious about this critter. I get there and this thing has paws the size of dinner plates. I just coo that he is sooooo cute. I don’t tell her anything about the giant this puppy could be. Now he’s like 100 pounds! He’s a pony. And I need special clothes that repel dog hair for my visits.

My wife makes me crazy. I can’t imagine living with someone and them not making you crazy. I’ve lived with men and I’ve lived with women. They all make me crazy. I had to chose which crazy was less terminal or likely to lead to criminal behavior. Men usually need nannies. They can’t do basic procedural stuff like get undressed and put their things away. In fact the only things they can put away are the ones they really don’t want you to put away for them. Women generally put their things away or at least shove them under the bed to get them out of the way. Men don’t care, they can step on things without falling better than women can.

My wife generally puts things away but she opens every drawer, every door, and every cabinet when she walks into a room. I don’t know why. I’ve been asking her for almost 30 years what she was looking for. So far she hasn’t remembered. I just walk into any room she is in or has been in and close all inappropriately open things. Sometimes it annoys my friends when I do it in their homes.

I can go on endlessly about how computers make me crazy. I gave up watching TV, well first I gave up on the DVD player, then the VCR, then the TV. It took half an hour just to get the picture and sound to work simultaneously on the DVD player. It was kind of frustrating to watch half a video and then get the sound working. This originally took place when we were trying to watch Lord of the Rings. By the time Harry Potter came out, or maybe it was the other way around, we admitted defeat and had gone to watching DVDs on the computer. Usually we could get that to work. Then I gave up on the VCR because it began to eat tapes and we didn’t see buying a new VCR. Then we got this new box for the FIOS. FIOS has kind of defeated us. Now we just use FIOS for the computer. The TV is collecting dust behind some of the boxes that are half packed. I’ve given up trying to watch anything I can’t get on Amazon Prime.

I’m reasonably functional. No advise needed, mostly don’t mess with the things that make me crazy. Most of them make me perfectly happy eventually, after I get over being crazy about it.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s