A proper illness

The temp from the agency made the comment yesterday as she took off her latex gloves whilst struggling to pull my stockings over my ankle without dislocating it again that they’re not really necessary unless someone has a proper illness, which I obviously do not, but it’s part of the regulations and she really shouldn’t be breaking the rules. That is wrong on so many levels that I wouldn’t know where to begin commenting. I fantasize about it, but I don’t think a Sheldon-like speech on where it all went wrong years ago when it comes to glove use policies and how currently the focus is on how to undo this overreaction would be useless and largely frustrating for the both of us.

I guess I could have been insulted that my illness wasn’t considered a proper illness and when what’s wrong with me is reduced to ‘she has headaches and joint problems’, because those are the two things she sort of understands as she gets headaches and her niece or cousin or someone has dislocated their thumb once, it is a little tiring to even think about how to explain that it’s a little worse than that. I never do explain. I don’t even feel the need to explain. It’s easier to shrug and laugh and let it go. Many things have gotten easier as I’ve started adopting that attitude. We went to Ulduar last night and I really dislike the first night in Ulduar. FL is fine these days, but XT requires a level of precision that is completely out of my control. If I get hit by light wells or gravity bombs or someone that does get hit stands in my line of sight, I have to change my angle very quickly or things go very wrong. Having to move on cue makes dislocating things more likely and so I get a little scared of XT. If I move just a little wrong, I dislocate a finger or wrist and I then I can’t change my screen angle.

Up until I was furiously typing away on msn about how much I dislike the prospect of XT, and on top of that Kologarn, Hodir and Thorim too, I was panicking just a little bit. Then I realized that there was something I did not take into account. I could do what I did last Friday on Hodir. I couldn’t change my screen angle, so I stopped playing and clasped my hands over my eyes. I died within seconds after the pull when I started to get that strange pre-seizure out-of-body type sensation, but we didn’t wipe, a healer short is no longer a problem in raids and I took the time to sort out my wrist, recover my vision and cognitive function a little, whacked my character on follow for a little bit and was fine enough by the time we arrived at the next boss. It wasn’t the end of the world and I’m pretty sure very few people noticed and nobody cared. Playing with other people isn’t about getting everything right all the time, it’s about being okay with sometimes doing less than my share. It was a difficult, but very good lesson to learn.

I often feel as if I don’t do much with my time and looking back over my life I’m filled with a sense of huge disappointment. There’s so many things I wanted to do but didn’t, so many days that’s just completely lost to nothingness and I had hopes and dreams that didn’t materialize and I wonder if ten years from now I will look back over the last decade and feel the same way again. I think about the meaning of life, the things I want, the things I’ve wanted and the things I have and it gets harder to be depressed. I’m not unhappy. I’m not discontent with my life. In fact, unless I start to think too much, my days are rather leisurely. There’s plenty that still needs fixing and the state of things is a little like a run-down house with a leaking roof that requires buckets on the floor on rainy days. But its a happy run-down house.

Growing up I used to think that money would solve my problems. If only I could afford all the things I need, if only I could drive a new car with better air-con in the summer and afford to run the heating high all winter. My friends drooled over shoes and dresses and fancy accessories and I fantasized about those shiny hinged knee braces, silver ring splints and black-out blinds. But the grass isn’t greener on the other side. Splints help, but they don’t stop bad things from happening. Top of the line black-out blinds look pretty, but other things have blocked out the light just as well. There’s more to life than things and there’s nothing wrong with easing up on the worry and appreciating the silver lining. Things just aren’t that important. And accomplishments? I’m reminded of  a scene from a Ted Danson movie I watched a while ago:

Jeremy Brockett: Are you a man who likes to treat himself right?
Dr. Mumford: I’ve had my moments.
Jeremy Brockett: Well, I am. And I’m not ashamed of it. Nobody ever said on their deathbed, “I treated myself too well.”
Dr. Mumford: I thought it was, “Nobody ever said I should have spent more time at the office.”
Jeremy Brockett: Fill in the blanks. I don’t mind the office. The point is you only go around once. So, like the Zen say, “Be here now.”

I worry that my life doesn’t mean enough, but in the greater scheme of things, it’s the little things that actually count. And happiness is a pretty good accomplishment.


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