Intolerances, not intolerance; there is a difference, and today, for me, was a day to get rid of a few intolerances because they were making me nuts. I bought a new cell phone; mine was five plus years old (I have no idea if that’s a long life or short) but the truth is, it wouldn’t start unless it was plugged in, it wouldn’t call out or take calls unless put I first it in airplane mode, counted to ten or more, and then took it out of airplane mode. And I was getting voicemails from friends over ten hours after they called, only to see that they had done so when I was sitting in my house reading, phone in my lap, but with no ringy-dingy through to me – utterly maddening.
The classic example of an intolerance is the newel post at the bottom of the stairs in George and Mary Bailey’s house in the classic film It’s A Wonderful Life: the danged thing comes off every time George puts his hand on it, and he hasn’t had the time to fix it. It infuriates him, adding to his sense of frustration overall. Windows that don’t shut, a light bulb that flickers, a faucet that drips, a feature on your phone or computer you can’t work or figure out but need to use, a rug whose edge trips you regularly, a pile of files that need putting away cluttering up a space, a toilet that won’t stop running, a dog that keeps barking every time my neighbor’s housesitting brother takes a walk at five a.m. – all of these are intolerances, and worse, they’re distractions. Distractions make getting more essential things done harder. Get it fixed, clean it up, change the light bulb, buy the new phone, pay those bills, make the call, fix the toilet! Keep the dog in the bedroom in the morning with the door closed for a change, until you wake up naturally and the early a.m. walk is over… brilliant (today was my first day trying that, it worked perfectly, YAY)!! Dust and dirt are intolerances of mine; when I leave my house cleaning for too long, it distracts and irritates me to no end. And then, I attack the problem and voila! A clean house equals joy in Mudville. Interesting, that word attack. Well, I never said I enjoyed cleaning.
Another intolerance: not having a fenced in yard for my dog. So! Today I also made a call – with my new, fully functioning cell phone – to an invisible fence company. Diego the Large Dog wants to be outside all the time; makes sense, half of his breed is Pyrenees Mt. dog, a breed who primarily live outdoors, guarding sheep. So, okay, let’s figure this out because even as much as my neighbor likes Diego, he does not want him there all the time. And then there’s me and my outside meter. I am not a mountain dog, and, after many years of living in various under-heated, no a.c. houses and apartments, set up in my wee casa deliberately to be as comfy and cozy as it could possibly be in all seasons (central heat and air, what a blessing!), and – after a nasty bout with Lyme, I won’t be joining Diego the Dog outside all the danged time. Hey, I just loooove being outdoors, only – in smaller doses. Let’s see if this shock fence will work as a compromise. I’gotta at least try.
When I write, daily, I feel that I have accomplished what I need to do for that day. It makes me itchy if I spend a day without having written. I also need, daily, to read, at least fifty pages. At least. This also means that after my one or two or three hours of writing and reading (or more!), I then – having accomplished my core needs, goals?, values! – I can clean, pay bills, weed whack, shovel snow – do the stuff of life – with relief and greater ease. One less thing on the to-do list, one less intolerable irritant, distraction, and pain in me arse. 🙂
