All Work And No Blogging

Back when I worked for the National Guard Finance office, I spent a healthy amount of time writing about the various people I observed and the events that took place.  Tubberpottimus, the bane of my very existence, was a frequently covered topic, as it was either write about her or go absolutely insane.  Now that I’m out of there and settled into my new position, I find myself wanting to write about so many things but being 100% unable to do so.

We have very strict policies in my office.  Cell phone usage is strictly prohibited except in break rooms or outside.  This includes talking, texting, or even taking it out to check the time.  Training materials, notebooks, and anything else with company information on it or written in it cannot leave the property.  Unless you have a photo pass, like I do, you cannot take pictures or record videos.  Even with my badge, I cannot take a photo on site and post it to Twitter; it has to be a photo for on-site company use.

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The days of forwarding my husband funny emails I receive are over.  If someone decorates my desk for my birthday, you won’t see it.  And as much as I want to share some of the insane things that happen here sometimes, I have to keep my mouth shut.  It drives me absolutely insane.  I love sharing crazy stories from the office, and we have more than enough here on a daily basis.  But because I love this job, there is zero workaround, so you guys are going to have to miss out on a lot of WTF moments.

At the end of the day, I’m just glad to have a job that I love.  It feels like it’s been forever and a day since I was able to say that and mean it.  I work somewhere that changes lives.  I support and help run an office that is bringing amazing things to the world.  And I don’t answer phones, deal with customers, greet clients or visitors, or file a single thing.  As far as having to keep my mouth shut… who knows, maybe I’ll write a book.

What You’re Worth

I got my first job when I was 16 years old, working the fry station at Chick Fil-A.  After a week of grease burns and sore fingers, I was put on the front register.  One week after that, I got moved to drive-thru, which I often ran alone.  Within a month I received a raise, which wasn’t much to talk about.  At barely over minimum wage, I wasn’t exactly overflowing my bank account every two weeks.

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I’m 33 now, with very brief period of unemployment between Chick Fil-A and now, thanks to moves, a kid, college, and unexpected life events.  During those years, I’ve seen a lot and learned a lot.  My three years working at Shoe Carnival was where I learned the most about customer service and employee relations.  My time at Health 1st was where I learned to be a leader.  But wherever I’ve worked, regardless of the business type, there were always three very distinct types of people around me.

The first is one I unfortunately see a lot; the employee who comes to work simply for the paycheck.  They may make $15 an hour, but they put in an effort that isn’t even deserving of minimum wage.  More often than not, you can find them taking a smoke break, texting friends, or wandering around instead of doing their job.  If it’s not getting half-assed, it’s not getting done at all.  These are people who take no pride in their job, regardless of how important or trivial it may be.  This attitude and work ethic succeeds in getting you absolutely nowhere.

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The second type is also very common; the employee who earns their paycheck to the penny.  They’re reliable, efficient, and get the job done.  They aren’t habitually late, absent, or away from their assigned area.  Most employers I’ve had fit into this category, and about half of the employees I’ve worked closely with do as well.  It’s a good place to be, especially when working in a team environment where the success of one determines the success of all.  I feel confident knowing that the people I work with are putting in a solid day before clocking out and heading home.

If you fit into this category yourself, that’s fine, but simply striving to earn your paycheck can cause issues.  If you’re entering into a company, making $12 an hour, and all you do is put in $12 an hour’s worth of effort, how can you expect to ever advance?  If you feel that you’re underpaid, which is common in retail and fast food establishments, does that mean your effort decreases because you feel undervalued?  Not looking past the paycheck towards bigger and better things is a huge hindrance.  Even if you don’t see yourself with your current company for the long haul, extra effort can go a long way into giving you a glowing reference when you finally get a new job.

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The final type is one I strive to be and hope to become more consistently; the employee who works towards the salary desired, not the salary earned.  This is the person who goes in and does a million dollar job nearly every day.  People are fond of saying that you should dress for the job you want, not the job you have.  Why not also work for the job you want?  A suit and tie alone isn’t going to move someone up the ladder; they must have the work history and drive to back it up.

Right now, I am lucky enough to be in a place where I can work towards a salary I want, not the one I have.  When I started work here in late August, I was making $13 an hour.  It was barely enough money to get me by week to week, but I busted my tail and am now making considerably more than that, having moved from temp status to full-time employee in record time (average times are generally a year or longer).  Now that I’m getting paid more, I have noticed that I’ve automatically pushed myself to work even harder.

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I’m by no means the hardest working person in the building, but I never leave this place wondering if I did enough, regretting not finishing certain things, or feeling as if I slacked off.  My counterpart here is the same way; the two of us are forever busy and never standing still.  Whatever the position, whatever the goal, it makes so much sense to suck it up and give it your all.  I can choose to be annoyed by my workload or I can choose to enjoy it and tackle it with passion.

It shouldn’t matter if you’re in a job that you consider a career or if you’re in one that is simply a pit stop along the road to your dreams.  A little bit more effort goes a long way.  The obvious benefits to your employment aside, it does wonders for your self-esteem and self-worth.  Is anyone really proud of themselves for trolling Facebook all day on company time?  Bragging about getting paid to do nothing sounds foolish.  It IS foolish.  There is room for fun in every job, but it doesn’t have to come at the expense of your quality of work.  It’s all about deciding what kind of person you want to be.  A ten buck an hour guy your whole life, or someone worth twice their weight in gold?

Total Divas Fails To Deliver

Jamie C. Baker:

Two episodes into the new run of Total Divas, and I’m less than impressed. Read more at FaceToHeel.

Originally posted on Face To Heel:

On January 4th, Summer Rae and Naomi/Trinity bid farewell to their Total Divas lifestyle in order to make room for Paige and Alicia Fox.  If you recall, when Total Divas first premiered in July 2013, we knew most of the ladies by their real names.  Brie, Nikki, JoJo, Natayla and Eva Marie all go by shortened or slightly altered versions of their real names, while Naomi and Cameron ditched the Funkadactyl labels altogether and became Trinity and Ariane.  Season 1 and 2 guest star Alicia Fox has never strayed from her in-ring name, and neither did Summer Rae when she joined the cast in S2.  Rosa Mendes, new S3 member, is Rosa to everyone except for Nattie, who refers to her as Rouck, a short version of her real last name.  With Paige joining the cast and Fox going full time, billed under their ring names rather than real, it’s…

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Boom

So much has happened over the past few months.  In August, I lost my job working as a contractor for the Army National Guard, thanks to some shady behavior by a bitter coworker.  No more riding to work with my husband, no more cushy job that I was grossly overpaid for, and no more paycheck.  I’m not ashamed to say that I completely panicked.  My husband and I had just put down quite a bit of money to get a home built, and this was a serious blow.  It took nearly a month for me to find a new job, and when I did, I had to settle for almost half of what I had been making.  But at least I had a job.

unemployment-job-work-110414The nice thing about my new job was that it was only a couple of miles from our apartment, plus the hours allowed me the perfect amount of time to drop our boy off at school.  The downside was that I was stuck driving my mom-in-law’s Suzuki, which was on its last leg.  The thing hates the cold, won’t run if it’s a drop under half a tank of gas, and rattles if you go over 40 mph.  But it ran.  So I worked, collected my meager check, tried to get used to not having PTO or paid holidays, and drove my husband crazy.  We emptied out our savings, went crazy selling things at yard sales, and somehow were able to pay our overpriced rent, plus finish saving up for our down payment on our home, which was getting built quicker than we imagined.

On October 27th, we closed on our new home, and it was a fantastic feeling.  Moving only a couple of miles down the road should have made it easy, but even with five days to complete the move and get out of our apartment, we cut it close.  It might have been easier if we had been open with what we were doing, but we decided to keep things under wraps until the house was officially ours.  The weekend after we were settled in, we had a wedding to attend, and the weekend after, a baby shower.  I was exhausted, but happy to be in our new home and able to spend time with people I don’t nearly see often enough.

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Things were going well, but trying to get used to a smaller paycheck wasn’t easy.  Things got worse when it began getting cold outside and the Suzuki decided that it was fun to take ten minutes to start whenever it was 30 degrees or below.  It was time to get a new car.  That I couldn’t afford.  We found someone who could work with me and would accept the Suzuki as a trade-in, but I still had to come up with cash to put down, plus deal with a higher monthly payment than I was happy with.  But it was either this or nothing.  Without picture perfect credit, I wouldn’t get a monthly payment I could live with.  So I signed the papers and got a “new” car.  The next day, the Suzuki caught fire, so I felt slightly better about my decision to upgrade.

As a contingent worker for my company, I am not afforded the same benefits and perks as our full time employees.  The fact that this place is fantastic definitely helps, but the pay just won’t work for the long term.  Goes without saying, I did a virtual backflip when my boss asked me if I was interested in going full time.  I did a few more after she told me that my interview went well and they wanted to make me an offer.  I about passed out when she told me the salary offer.  As of January 5th, I will be a full time employee with benefits and a beautiful paycheck, and I could not be happier.

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My husband always says things have a way of working out.  They always work out for us, and he reminds me of that fact quite a bit.  I lost my job.  My car caught fire.  But I got into a new car loan that works to build my credit; the company specializes in doing just that.  I got a new job that I absolutely love and that is close to home.  My husband and I finally got a house that we adore.  And, thankfully, I got an offer for full time employment that solves my financial issues.  It doesn’t come in time to have a normal Christmas, but we’re working around it and hitting the casino instead (our boy is with his grandparents, thanks to a court order, so he will miss our first Christmas in the house).  Things have been hectic as all hell, but I’m so grateful that they are coming together beautifully.  I have everything I need to have the best Christmas ever.  My husband, my pup dog, my boy returning home soon, a beautiful house, a car that isn’t on fire, and a kick ass job that will come with amazing pay in 2015.  I’m a lucky lady.

2014 Tables, Ladders, and Chairs (And Stairs) Review

Jamie C. Baker:

Please take a minute and read my first ever live review for FaceToHeel.com!

Originally posted on Face To Heel:

Tonight, I will be writing my first live review, and I’m excited to be able to do it for Tables, Ladders, Chairs & Stairs.  The TLC kickoff featured Paul Heyman on commentary, with his typical “why am I here with these fools” expression.  Our preshow match is a tag team battle between Gold and Stardust and Big E and Kofi Kingston of A New Day.  To quote my 9-year-old, “What is this? I don’t get it.”  I don’t have a good answer that properly explains what A New Day is doing, but I am enjoying Stardust’s new green hue.  This is a better match than I imagined, but it’s a shame to see Kingston and Big E fail to expand their moveset in order to fit their new characters.  Stardust is looking strong, not letting either New Day member really get off the ground.  Big E eventually comes in like…

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I QUIT

I am still recovering from one of the worst weekends I have ever had.  I had to hit Walmart on Friday after work to get drinks, breakfast, dog treats, and a couple of books for my child in order to prepare for 8+ hours in the car on Saturday.  My mother-in-law is moving to Ohio, right down the street from her mom, so she’ll be able to take care of her in her golden years.  When I stopped by my mom-in-law’s house, she was frantic.  There were boxes everywhere, her moving truck was partially loaded with even more boxes, furniture was upended and leaning against walls, and she looked as if she hadn’t slept in days.  She gave me some food to take home, as she unplugged her fridge to take it with her and couldn’t keep the cold items.  I ran home to drop off our groceries and ended up coming right back to help load the truck.  My husband, coming off of a 50 hour work week, came straight from work to help load the truck.  We spent about two hours there until we ran out of room to put things.

My mom-in-law’s friend J came to help, and by help I mean she stood around watching.  At one point J rinsed off a bunch of cups and threw the wet glassware into a large garbage bag.  At another point, she was dragging a wet rag across the counters over and over again.  To call her useless would be a compliment.  Her husband L arrived eventually to help my husband with the fridge and other large items.  My son ate some leftover pizza while we worked, packed, and got rained on.  When we were finally finished, I took off to grab some Chinese food and my husband and boy went home to see to the dog and get into comfortable clothes.  After eating, we went about getting as much ready as possible for the road trip the next day and went to sleep around 10:30pm.

Saturday morning, my alarm sounded at 4:30am.  My husband was already in the shower, so I got up and got our dog’s food ready.  We all had breakfast, picking from the goodies I purchased the day before, in order to cut down on the number of stops we’d have to make between home and mom-in-law’s new house.  I also packed my son’s lunch bag with a ton of goodies and had quite a few drinks and snacks for myself and the husband.  We arrived at mom-in-law’s at 6am, only to see J and L still loading things up.  After some groggy hellos, we hit the road at 6:30am.

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At 8am, after making some great time, my mom-in-law calls my husband to say that they are going to stop at Steak N Shake for a sit-down breakfast.  This is ridiculous.  I’ve been on many trips with my mom-in-law to Ohio and when we stop for food, we do it via drive-thru before leaving our hometown.  No doubt in my mind, J has talked her into halting our entire trip to go eat.  I decided to go in with them because my boy wanted a milkshake, and my husband waited with our dog by the car.  We were there for 30 minutes, 28 of which I spent being horribly embarrassed because the adults I was with decided to treat our poor waitress like complete shit.  “What kind of restaurant doesn’t have biscuits?!?” (the truck was delayed)  “OUR Steak N Shake doesn’t treat their customers like this.”  “Should have expected this kind of bad service in Ohio.”  “Why isn’t there butter on my toast?  Who doesn’t butter their toast??” (there was plenty of butter).  This went on the whole time, and our waitress was not only very pleasant, she was quick and efficient and did a fantastic job.  I left all the $1s I had on the table as a way to make up for everyone acting like an ass.  I wish I could have left more.

After breakfast, we let everyone else go ahead and popped by a gas station for coffee and to cool down.  Since the moving truck can’t go very fast, we were able to catch up to everyone after about 30 minutes.  Finally, after what felt like forever, we were parked and ready to begin unloading.  We were expecting to arrive and find my sister-in-law and her husband, three guys from the local church, and my husband’s cousin and her husband.  We arrived to find my husband’s grandmother and some random old lady whose name was not worth learning.  I’ll call her Waste Of Space.  The moving truck finally gets backed into the driveway and we get to work.

My husband, my mom-in-law, and myself are the only people worth a damn when it comes to unloading this truck.  J is doing a whole lot of standing around, making jokes about how she doesn’t have to move the fridge or any heavy furniture, and making me wonder why the hell she bothered coming in the first place.  Waste Of Space insists on not only standing right at the end of the moving truck ramp in everyone’s way, but reading boxes to me as if I’m an illiterate fool who doesn’t understand how to move a box from point A and place it in spot B.  When she’s not blocking the ramp, she’s busy standing on the basement stairs, holding our her scrawny arms to “help” while people are already navigating down the stairway.  I find myself secretly hoping she has narcolepsy and passes out somewhere.

The stress of the move finally gets to my mom-in-law and she starts getting snippy.  Totally understandable when you’re dealing with people moving your life out of a truck and into your new home, but it rubbed my husband the wrong way and he let her know.  Mom-in-law overreacted about us moving boxes because she failed to communicate that the boxes were now meant to go to a second garage.  He didn’t yell, didn’t scream or cuss, just got snippy right back.  That was it.  Typical mother and adult child interaction, tame by most standards.  J apparently thought it was the worst thing ever, so she texted my sister-in-law “Jamie and your mom are already into it.  Didn’t take long!”  Little did her brilliant mind realize that she replied to a mass text.  I got that text, and so did my husband.

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Once he saw that, he went over to the second garage where boxes were now being unloaded, walked in and said “Who sent this text?”  J, with a smirk on her face, said that it was her.  My husband, acting a lot calmer than I probably would have, was in the process of calling out this woman for her immature behavior when L chimed in from the truck, saying “you don’t talk to my wife like that!  Asshole!”  At that point, my husband laughed and announced that we were leaving.  I followed behind, fighting the urge to get in L’s face as he yelled insults at my husband from the safety of the moving truck.  Idiot.

I don’t know what kind of friend J is meant to be to my mom-in-law, or what kind of friend L is to her either, but no friends of mine are going to talk trash about my kid and remain my friend.  My husband assured his mother that he wasn’t mad at her, but also wasn’t going to hang around and be disrespected by some idiots (my word, not his).  He told her that she needs new friends.  And with that, we began the four-hour drive back home.  We were only there for 90 minutes before people started acting like idiots.  Total waste of a Saturday, but at least we were able to unload the beds and most of the furniture.  The mystery church guys and my sister and brother-in-law could handle the rest, if they ever decided to show up.  We were done.

On Sunday, my husband received a text from his mom saying that J was sorry.  Maybe I’m petty, but I don’t think anyone should have to accept a second-hand apology.  Be an adult.  If you’re sorry, be direct with the person you offended.  Otherwise, don’t say anything at all.  She wasn’t sorry.  L wasn’t sorry.  I should have known what kind of people they were when I saw how they treated that poor waitress.  I’m glad to be rid of them, and I’m making sure that my son is never around my mom-in-law if J or L also plan on being around.

To top off our kick-ass Saturday, our washing machine crapped out on Sunday.  It flooded our kitchen, which was a delight to clean up.  The dryer is also acting up.  And no, we don’t have extra cash lying around to replace it because of so many other things we have going on right now.  We had soaking wet towels everywhere.  The plan to borrow my mom-in-law’s washer and dryer failed because she decided to randomly come home early.  A candle got knocked over, getting wax all over the carpet, bookshelf, collectibles, TV, and my husband’s hair.  I’m amazed that nothing caught fire.  And to top it off, I don’t get Columbus day off like everyone else in my house, so I was up way too damn early again, in the office, dealing with new temp staff that are too stupid to really exist.  Plus I got stuck in the rain during a fire drill at work and was wet all day long.  I’m mentally and physically drained.  I quit.

The Difference Between NXT and the Main Roster

Jamie C. Baker:

Amazing article courtesy of FaceToHeel.com!

Originally posted on Face To Heel:

The buzz is all around social media about how excellent NXT has been. But for all the praise of this “developmental” unit within WWE, there are a hundred complaints about the main event shows–Smackdown, Raw, and monthly pay-per-views. WWE owns both, so why is there such a disconnect between the two products? The answer is a simple one, albeit baffling.

WWE’s NXT brand was originally Florida Championship Wrestling (FCW). In 2012 FCW was disbanded and WWE started doing their developmental brand at the Full Sail University in Tampa, FL under the NXT name. It quickly grew to become something legendary. And now, thanks to the WWE Network, NXT has become a powerhouse in its own right. Paul Levesque (Triple H) oversees the NXT operations and has put forward quite an excellent product. Yes, some things are slightly off-putting, such as bad entrance music, wrestlers being released amidst a string of…

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Dumb Phones

My company has a very strict policy regarding cell phone usage.  During my orientation, we were all warned that using our phones during training can and will result in immediate termination.  Once out of training, every employee must follow very strict rules regarding cell phone usage.  Other than the designated break rooms, the cafeteria, and outside of the building, cell phone use is prohibited.  You can’t text while getting coffee or using the microwave; you have to get your food and/or drink and go to a designated break room before pulling out your phone.  You can’t throw a post on Facebook while walking through the hallways; any spot but the designated spots are strictly off limits.  Because of this, my phone is shut down before I leave for work and doesn’t get turned back on until I’m in my car and ready to drive home.

The cell phone policy is an easy one, thanks to the countless signs posted around the office.  We have them above the microwaves and coffee machines, on the bathroom door and on every stall, and in other rooms where people could try to go for privacy.  Supervisors give strict instructions that the phones are not to be seen or heard unless in one of the specific zones.  You would think it’s an easy policy to follow, but I’ve already seen more than one person lose their job because they’d rather text than pay attention and take notes during training.  To be honest, part of me wants to be sympathetic, as I had 4 hours of training and was frustrated and bored; they have two weeks.  But the bigger part of me wants to slap them upside the head for being so stupid.  Can’t you survive for two hours at a time without a phone?  Can’t it wait until you go on break?

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People get desperate though without that little device always available to use at their leisure.  As a result, the bathroom is a major hotspot for cell phone use during regular breaks or “emergency” restroom breaks.  Call me crazy, but I never find myself in a situation that requires me to be on the john and on the phone at the same time.  One or the other can wait.  As far as hiding places go, a bathroom stall is a last resort in my book; I don’t want to have a conversation in a place where people do their business.  But here?  People literally multitask, talking in between… well, you get the gist of it.  It’s absolutely disgusting.

The amount of dependence we have on these little electronic devices is staggeringly high.  When people are at the point to where they would rather go hide out in a cobweb infested abandoned part of campus than just wait until their break to text a friend, it’s a problem.  When people are willing to risk their jobs because they absolutely cannot live without Twitter, it’s a problem.  This job forced me to go from having my phone always within reach to having it 100% out of sight and out of mind, and it drove me nuts for about a week until I realized how much better off I was without it.  I let my email pile up, I get behind on tweets, and I’m cool with it.

Being without a phone, and seeing how people around me refuse to go without, has made me realize how much I was missing by having my eyes glued to that tiny screen so often.  What is the point in walking around like a zombie all the time?  Is it really THAT important to see who said what on Facebook?  Do we really have to document every moment with a selfie or some overly filtered fancy Instagram shot?  And please, someone explain to me, what can be so important to make bathroom time become a group activity so you can have a conversation with your mom?  Just chill.  Unplug.  I’m always glad to turn my phone back on when I leave the office for the day, but I’m equally as glad to turn the damn thing off and not deal with it for the eight and a half hours I’m supposed to be working.  It didn’t kill me, and it sure as hell won’t kill you.

Be A Part Of FaceToHeel

I am a senior writer for FaceToHeel.com, a newly launched site that covers all things wrestling.  Over the past couple months, we’ve covered some amazing topics, met some great people via Twitter at @facetoheel, and learned a hell of a lot along the way.  We’ve live tweeted PPVs, posted instant feedback after matches, and have found new ways of looking at the business of wrestling entertainment.  Little by little, we are growing and expanding in our efforts to cover and discuss more about what is going on currently, what’s happened in the past, and what the future might bring.

In an effort to get to know our readers better, I have a challenge for all of you.  When a wrestler debuts, there are a couple of things that can immediately determine their success; what they are wearing and what music they walk out to.  I’m not all that interested in fashion at the moment, but I have always been fascinated at how a song can influence the way the audience views a wrestler.  Just like we tend to judge people based on the music they listen to, we judge a wrestler by the music they enter the arena to.  WWE’s Dean Ambrose becomes even more unstable and manic, Jack Swagger turns into the ultimate patriot, Adam Rose is a wacky joke, and The Miz is a conceited prick.  TNA’s Angelina Love and Velvet Sky are the ultimate drama queens, Mr. Anderson is a man on a mission, and Chris Melendez is an American hero.

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Eventually, certain songs become iconic.  The car crash before Mick Foley’s song hits, the breaking glass signaling the entrance of Stone Cold, the ringing of the bells welcoming Undertaker; we all instantly and almost uncontrollably react.  When Real American starts to play, thousands of fans promise to take their vitamins as they cheer for Hulk Hogan.  If CM Punk’s opening riff ever rings out again, half of the world will entirely lose their minds.  We may not always realize it, but entrance music is vital to a wrestler’s success and their lasting power.

On that note, have you ever thought about what your entrance music would be?  Imagine you’re about to debut on Impact Wrestling or on Monday Night Raw.  You’re in your full gear and ready to go.  You stretch a bit, staring ahead at the curtain, just waiting to break through into that massive arena filled with screaming fans.  Finally, you hear your music hit.  What song would it be?

If you have a great answer and you would like to be featured in a FaceToHeel.com article, please contact me immediately at cutelypoisoned@gmail.com or on Twitter at @_CutePoison.  Your answer will be used in an upcoming article and you will be credited by your Twitter handle, your Facebook page, or another social media outlet of your choosing.  Depending on the response, there is an opportunity for the best answer to get their own feature article.  Please reach out as soon as possible for details and questions.  We at F2H have been doing a lot of talking lately; now it’s your turn to speak!

Farewell

I am absolutely horrible at dealing with death.  Having a person here one day and gone the next is something I’ll never quite get used to.  It doesn’t help that I’m slightly terrified by dead bodies and act like a royal idiot every rare instance I am in a funeral home.  When it comes to properly dealing with death, I am completely clueless.  I cry randomly when it makes no sense, but remain dry-eyed in moments I should be in tears.  I never know what to say or do or how to act.  I almost prefer to be notified via text message so I can deal with things in my own way without embarrassing myself or offending anyone.

Everyone deals with death in a different way, and lately I’ve had front row tickets to all the different ways we try to process the loss of life.  Some people blame themselves, even though in just about every instance, there was nothing they could have done to prevent whatever happened.  Some people blame the deceased, wondering why they couldn’t have done things differently so they could still be here.  Anger is a big one; we get angry at the family, at friends or coworkers, at ourselves, or at anything we perceive as not right or proper.  Others just withdraw into themselves, as if hiding will make the death something that was all a bad dream.

People have a funny way of coming together in times of tragedy.  Estranged family members are suddenly best of friends, hugging and crying and laughing together as they work through each day and try to heal.  Sometimes the change is a long lasting one, but more often than not, everyone goes back to ignoring each other within a month or two.  It’s a shame that the effects never seem to be long lasting ones, but I suppose it’s better than nothing at all.

Right now, I am dealing by avoiding as much as I possibly can.  From the get-go, people have been horrendously ugly with each other, even going as far as saying certain family members did not have the right to attend a viewing.  Some people seem concerned with who gets what, totally driven by money and objects while completely ignoring the fact that someone is gone from this world forever.  There are plots and theories and things being said that are better suited for an episode of CSI.  I simply cannot deal with it anymore.

Call me selfish if you will, but I decided to skip a memorial service earlier today.  I declined to go because I did not want to deal with someone who planned to block the door and not allow certain people inside (even though it’s a public service, so it wouldn’t have worked in the end).  I declined because I can’t listen to one more theory about what REALLY happened and who is REALLY responsible.  I declined because I find it disgusting how certain people are behaving when we should all be honoring someone’s life and remembering them fondly in death.

I am terrible at dealing with death.  But I’ve discovered that there are a lot of people who deal with it a hundred times worse than I ever have.  I’ve learned that in the end, the way you deal is not important.  What is important is that the memory of the one we lost is honored somehow.  Differences are put aside and we all treat each other like human beings for a while.  Death is a reminder of how short and fragile life is.  When someone dies, we shouldn’t waste time hating each other and acting like self-absorbed strangers.  That’s no way to live.  If I’ve learned one thing this past week, it is that I waste too much time on negativity.  I don’t want to do that anymore.  And when I die, I want the people I’ve left behind to get along, not argue over who gets what or blame each other for my passing.  Life is too short to be wasted on bullshit.

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