Tuesday, January 19, 2016

Fakers Never Prosper

In my never-ending quest for sleep, I recently went to see an "alternative health practitioner". I won't even bother telling you what kind because it's all equally ridiculous horseshit, but at this point - that is, approaching the eight-year anniversary of the start of my torrid affair with insomnia - I decided I'm willing to accept a placebo effect.

Actually, I can sortof see why people go to quacks. Sortof. You get your placebo effects. You get the feeling that you're doing something about your problems (real or imagined). And what I think is probably the biggest draw, you get a fresh new audience to listen to your (real or imagined) problems - a sympathetic audience. A caring audience (never mind that they're robbing you blind while "caring"). This is in direct contrast to your actual medical doctor, who you might (rightly) suspect has long since decided you are a fruitloop, and to your friends and family, who are probably** sick to death of hearing you yammer on about your endless health-related "issues" and associated internet "research".


While I was speaking with my quack about my insomnia, I did notice how over-the-top supportive and understanding she was but I was so focused on getting my placebo effects and getting out that I almost didn't think to soak up this important potential contributor to my effects - whoops! Once she felt I had been thoroughly validated as a human with insomnia, we moved on to "treatment". (I'm sorry - I actually can't stop with the quotation marks. Be grateful I'm not telling you this story in person; it's probably even more annoying with air quotes.)

And the treatment - oh, the treatment. It was like a solid hour of bad sex, with an excessively earnest partner. (I know you know what I'm talking about.) Oddly, given that I was paying for the experience, I just felt bad for the gal and thus deferred to that old bad sex standby: I faked it.

(What is it you think you're doing, exactly?)
*noncommittal sounds*

(Aw, did you just SAY that?)
I'm doing just great, thanks.

(What is going ON here?)
... Oh, yep, I'm definitely feeling it now.

(Is this over yet?)
*slightly more enthusiastic noncommittal sounds*

(Oh thank gawd this is over.)
Hey, that was great! Welp, gotta run!

(Nope, not a chance in hell.)
Sure thing, anytime! Call me!

Hm, I wonder if I can get some placebo action for my conflict avoidance problem, too?

Saturday, January 9, 2016

Resolutions Schmesolutions

It's Resolution Season at my house! I just love New Year's Resolutions. They feel so fresh and exciting and possible at this time of year. A whole new calendar full of days unsullied by your failings just stretching out in front of you like an open highway! But, like, a nice smooth Alberta highway, not a lousy Saskatchewan highway - that's a few weeks away still. There are no potholes in your Resolution highway at the beginning of the New Year. You can still refuel your Resolution easily and frequently. The lackluster scenery of Lean Cuisines and 1% cottage cheese day in, day out hasn't ground down your will to live willpower...

... yet.

Oh, sorry. Where was I? Right - I love Resolutions! I make zillions of them all year long. I make them at the New Years, of course. And I didn't misplace that apostrophe, I literally mean ALL the New Years. You got a culture or a calendar with a different year in there somewhere? I am gonna find it and make some Resolutions on it. I even make Resolutions on the school calendar - every semester! Each Sunday night I make my Resolutions for the Monday ahead. Sometimes I even make them on Saturday night, just in case that works out better than when I make them on Sundays.

It's January 9th today. I've had some successes so far, namely working out lots and trying new recipes and implementing Tofu Tuesdays despite the strongly reluctant Tuesday night dinner crowd at my house. I had a massive caffeine withdrawal headache on January 1 and the sugar shakes up until about January 7, but that's no big deal - I Resolve that stuff about six times a (Gregorian calendar) year. I'm tough.

What IS slowly killing me, and getting harder rather than easier with each passing day, is not-Facebooking. Do you have any idea how many quotable quotes my kids have said in the past 9 days? How adorably selfie-genic I've been this week? How many humblebrags and witty comments and hilarious marital woes I've been forced to withhold?! How am I supposed to carefully curate others' perception of my life?? No one has Liked me all week! 

I tried scrolling through LinkedIn a bit to take the edge off but it's just not the same.

I washed the floors today and forced the whole family to openly admire my efforts. Still no good.

Finally, friends, it has come to this. I mean, how else is anyone going to know I wrote a new blog unless I post in on my Facebook feed? Right? RIGHT?!

You may have won this battle but you haven't won the war, Resolution - I will see you on the Lunar New Year my old foe. Or maybe next Saturday night! You just never know when I will strike...