Today was simple.
Finding creative places to hide jelly beans.
I hate this about depression.
I know I’ve written about this before and imagine it won’t magically disappear in future posts. It’s like all the air got sucked out of me and I feel like a fish out of water, gasping and choking, looking an an ocean of wet that’s close by but completely unreachable. Fighting the panic I’m feeling right now I thought about just posting the photo I took today of the spring blossoms that weren’t there yesterday but this is my life, right? Not writing about it feels like lying to myself.
When I get like this I want to flee. The desire to leave everything and everyone is overwhelming. My observer kicks in and eventually convinces the rest of me not to make any rash decisions but it doesn’t change the panic. The flight or fight response with depression instead feels like flight or flat – I can leave or go numb. Fighting feels hopeless.
Last week I’d come home ranting about being on hold for 3 hours with PayPal. The kids wanted more of the story. I gave them the long saga of how the agency I work for wanted to accept credit cards at an event and we decided on using PayPal Here because we already had an account. I thought it would be easy. They say it’ll be easy. They tout that message on all their marketing materials. Thank the stars I began the journey 2 weeks before the event.
I’ll outline my experience:
1) Four separate phone calls to customer service to verify account for using PayPal Here
a. mis-information on ease of verification
b. uploading personal information to verify that my legal name is ‘Michelle ADWAS’ (which of course it isn’t)
c. more paperwork showing documentation of a name change ie a wedding certificate showing my name change from ‘Michelle ADWAS’ (what!?)
d. a 3-hour waiting-on-hold call from two different phones which, mind you, never got answered
2) a public tweet shaming them
a. which got a person who wanted to help me via tweets. (Cuz clearly this issue can easily be resolved 140 characters at a time)
b. eventually resolved in a call back because companies don’t like being called out publically
3) PayPal Here card reader
a. purchased card reader to make sure we had one for the event
b. downloaded app that got stuck on the verification (supposed to be 48hrs but still had the message a week later)
c. another one coming in the mail
4) Identity resolved but reader tethered to one device
a. finally convinced they could safely and legally permit a business contact name change from Michelle ADWAS to Michelle DeMey (after 3 sets of documents scanned and emailed to them plus a note on agency letterhead, signed by the executive director, allowing for my name to be the contact on the account)
b. only to find out the card reader could only work on one device, forever tethered to whichever app it synced with but never fear, because we can apply for up to 20 readers and user names!
c. giving in, I designate one agency device, plug in the reader and get the response ‘user name is not allowed, must have primary account information to login’ – which is what having 20 different user names is supposed to avoid!
d. I bang my head repeatedly on my desk and give up
a. thanks to my co-worker, Yes, we get signed up, approved, logged in, and the now-day-away event set up in 30min, start to finish with the company called Square
b. that’s all. they were that easy.
After sharing this experience with the kids I said I was tempted to destroy the reader.
Tonight I brought home the purchased PayPal Here reader plus the one that finally arrived in the mail. The pictures show what the kids called, “The holiday of destroying,” which should probably disturb me, but since I’m so frustrated, kind of enjoyed.
It’s been a very full weekend. More digging today. And hacking at a nasty huge plant but here are two moments that sum up the day:
First thing in the morning Isabella comes into the room and says, “Can you smell disaster!?” One of the cats had dropped a very stinky gift in the hallway.
Tired and wanting to sit down for a bit I went to pull out a chair at the dining room table. Only it wouldn’t budge. Figuring it was jammed against another one I moved to the next and it wouldn’t move either. I look down and see that the two are tied together. So tired I don’t even bother with it I go to the end of the table. That chair won’t move either. I look farther under and can see all of them have been daisy chained together. My son has discovered the joys of string and scissors. Trip wires from the door to a drawer, across the stairs, Isabella’s door to this door, his entire room strung with string.
There was sun in Seattle! I jumped outside and dug for h o u r s. A neighbor, uprooting a rhodie, asked if I wanted it so there’s now a rhododendron in the front yard. I’m happy about this because a couple years ago Isabella discovered the plant through nature walks at school and called them ‘rhododungeons.’
Shoveling, lifting, scooping, planting, raking…that was my art today.
The kids have identical sets of markers in a nice carrying case. They’ve already had a few….ah…I’ll call them ‘disagreements’…about which case belongs to which child. I’ve decided to make tags for them out of shrinky dinks so each case will have its identifier and thus hopefully ending all arguments.
Ok. I realize it won’t end all arguments forever but at least it will drop one.
I haven’t shrunk them yet because I finished them after the kids went to bed. I assume they’d like to watch them do their thing.
Spent a smidgen of time tonight finishing up my key collage on the wood board. The spackle having dried all night and day sucked up the light coat of paint I brushed over it in a matter of seconds. Then I went through and gave dark highlights to the edges with a marker.
Not much tonight because instead of spending a lot of time in my space I snuggled with Isabella until she fell asleep. The kid’s beds are the best places in the house to get drowsy. Something about cuddling up next to either of them, stillness overtaking me in hopes my calmness will settle into them, lulled by the rhythmic ticking of the clock. Their squiggliness winding down til the only movement comes from the involuntary jump of drifting into the first stages of sleep. I love this time. It’s a magic worth remembering.