reboot camp

When my computer slows down, freezes up, or simply doesn't cooperate, I can press CTRL-ALT-DEL and reboot. I lose none of my programs and usually very little data, yet I get a fresh start. Are there any reboot commands for life? In so many areas of my life--personal, professional, financial, technological--I have lost my focus and sense of direction. I've become a person I never thought I could become. I want to find my joy in life again.

So where do I start? I'm afraid, quite frankly, to start to strip away the things that are bad habits and suck joy from my life. What happens if once I've done this, all that's left is...nothing? What if I discover that the problem is being a mom or wife? How do I begin to reboot my life without losing the basic structure and richness that I have?

There's a part of me that just says this: starting right now, live every detail intentionally and in a way consistent with joy. But I am just not there yet. I haven't lost my capacity for joy, but there is a veil that keeps me from recognizing what gives me joy. I'm intrinsically lazy, so doing housework, trying to figure out how to pay bills, doing my job, etc....ack! I feel great contentment and accomplishment and, yes, joy, when those things are done, but I no longer seem to be able to recognize that things need to be done or motivate myself to even start on things.

So I've decided that this summer, I'm putting myself through Reboot Camp. Today's goal was to commit to doing this publicly. My goal tomorrow is to think about process. How do I want to do this? Give myself a goal every day? Several goals a week? Do I want to have goals at all? Maybe I want to come up with a Chris's Ten Commandments for Pulling Herself Together: Thou shalt spend 15 minutes each day tackling a pile of clutter. Thou shalt spend 15 minutes a day intentionally unplugged from technology and experiencing physical life, simply and intentionally. So tomorrow, I think about how to reboot my life this summer.

two bright spots

My husband has a job interview next week in Madison. The company owner is someone he worked with in his last job, and hopefully this will give him a leg up.

We also found out that the SUV, while severely damaged, was not totaled after all. Initially, they had thought it would need a completely new engine since it didn't start. However, one of their workers forgot this and tried to start it while preparing to move it into sheltered storage for us. It turns out that because Matt had to leave the vehicle on after the accident, the gas had run out and the battery run down. Doug's parents will loan us the money to get it repaired. I have actually been grieving the loss of the vehicle. Even though there's much that I don't like about it, our little Neon is not comfortable for our whole family and it would be nice to have it back--even though that will drastically bump up our insurance rates again.

the kindness of friends

During my hysterectomy experience, I was very grateful for the kindness of my friends. I had people who patiently listened to my tales of aches and pains. They carried things for me, they brought food for my family, they sent me flowers, and they showed me that they cared. Although it wasn't completely easy to accept their gifts, I knew that I could accept them because I didn't actually need them.

At times in my life, I have also been the recipient of the kindness of strangers. One time that particularly stands out was when I was pregnant with my twins and had to spend 3 1/2 months on bedrest. As the primary breadwinner and carrier of our health insurance, we faced a loss of income (I didn't have enough leave accumulated) and an increase in insurance premiums. The nurses at the hsopital adopted our family for Christmas, bringing us boxes of food, toys, and baby items. I was so grateful to those donors, most of them anonymous.

To truly be in need is uncomfortable. With need can come many other feelings--powerlessness, fear, shame, loss of dignity, worthlessness. To truly need is to be vulnerable and naked. To say "I need" is to say "I am scared. I no longer recognize my own life." When that need is met by strangers, we can be comforted by the cloak of anonymity. I can go about my life with an external sense of pride and dignity, even though it may not be what I feel inside.

It is harder for me to accept the kindness of friends when that kindness meets a real need. That cloak of anonymity is not possible, so there is a greater feeling of nakedness.

My friend from work came by tonight with a card from her whole department--and a $75 gift card for the grocery store. I am both humbled and honored. It is hard to think about walking into their office again, knowing that they all know about my difficulties, knowing that at some point, even buying food will be a challenge. At the same time, I feel so loved and cared for.

Perhaps this is a matter of giving up control, of acknowledging that life is bigger than what one person or one family can control. And this is one of the many ways God answers prayers. Our needs are provided for, with a lesson in humility included. It is a hard lesson to learn, but I am grateful to have the choice to learn it.

how can I not be freaked out?

I have no idea, but I'm not yet freaking out about the fact that my husband doesn't have a job. Perhaps I've been so prayed for that there is a buffer around me. Perhaps there is some lesson about what's truly important in life. He has started receiving weekly unemployment checks, and while that doesn't go far enough, it is comforting to know that the system is working right now.

I'm generally feeling pretty relaxed these days--too tired, perhaps, and behind in all my work, but I'm doing okay. I don't know how.

Right now is pretty terrific. I'm sitting on our sun porch. As cluttered as it is, I'm on the couch with my feet up on a table, the smell of my perfectly blooming lilacs blowing in on the breeze and the sounds of mowing and children in the background.

Life is good.

feeling better

My husband seemed to be better today. When I came home from school, he was actually online looking at job postings--something I haven't seen him do yet. He found a position that he was interested in and then realized it was with a company he's dealt with in two of his previous positions. It was the first time he's seemed encouraged since he lost his job, so that was good.

All Wisconsin state employees will be expected to take 16 furlough days over the next two years. As a nine-month employee who is considered 80% for that time, I've been concerned about how that will work. I found out today that all the UW chancellors will be making a case to the governor that faculty and teaching staff should not have to bear a disproportionate share of furlough days, so I'm feeling a bit better about that, too.

I realized this evening that I've been holding together pretty well. I know that I'll physically and mentally feel better once I can break down and cry about all this--but I'm afraid to do that until Doug actually has a job. Otherwise, I'm afraid I'll start crying and won't be able to stop. So I made it through another day. Yay.

so hard sometimes

I am so tired of being supportive. I don't even know what it means anymore. We haven't even had to deal with the financial implications of my husband losing his job yet--although it may be a few weeks until his unemployment checks start coming in, for reasons I don't understand. In a couple weeks, I get the last regular paycheck I'll have until October. I can't even think about the finances yet; it's just so overwhelming. He's so depressed. He makes a couple phone calls every day, but with the bad economy, he just isn't getting any nibbles. He's been cooking dinner most nights, but he does no housework at all--dishes, cleaning, laundry. He doesn't take care of regular chores or even special projects. He won't give himself a regular routine, which just contributes to his sense of disconnection. I'm at my most stressful time of the semester, and this semester has been a particularly difficult one for me. And I can't help but think back on all the decision I've made and that we've made and I find myself playing the "should've" game--we shouldn't have moved here, because then I would have a much higher-paying job with tenure--we shouldn't have bought the SUV, which I never thought we could afford in the first place--we shouldn't have gotten married, because then I wouldn't have to be worried about my kids and how they'll handle all this.

I'm so frustrated, and I don't know what to do. Meanwhile, he sits home all day, playing on my work laptop (which really, really pisses me off). Not only do I still have all the work to do around the house, I can't do my schoolwork because he's following me around like a sad puppy. And then I feel guilty for being self-centered. And the only thing I can think of is to come up with some clever paypal campaign to ask people to contribute to our efforts, but I can't even figure out how to do that.

Thanks for listening.

moving forward?

I'm actually feeling okay. I'm not worried or anxious. Quite frankly, this has me a bit worried. I've been so grateful for all my friends, virtual and otherwise, who are sending me good wishes and bringing me cards and things to brighten the day.

Doug isn't doing so well. Although he seems less depressed and sad this week, his temper is quicker this week. I know this is totally normal, but it makes it hard to feel good about being home. He hasn't started getting unemployment checks yet, and I wish that would get underway. It isn't much, but it helps some.

We had our remaining vehicle repaired last week. We had to get some alignment sensor replaced, as well as the tires and a seatbelt buckle. At least we have a reliable vehicle again. I'm in mourning for the Expedition, which is odd since I never liked it. Go figure.

I may be teaching a Facebook class for our continuing ed folks this summer. I doubt that it pays much, but it's something that would be fun and that I can look forward to.