Today started with an email essentially invalidating a bunch of work I had done yesterday. I was not happy. I complained.
I moved my complaint-free band to my other wrist. I complained some more and moved it back to the original wrist.
Tomorrow I start over on Day 1 again. I regret complaining, but at the same time part of me is glad to have gotten it out of my system this early on. It made me reflect not just on my state of mind, but where I am right now, and helped clarify the path I want to take going forward (which is not the path I am currently on).
The only thing of note today is I deliberately had to refrain from expanding on certain thoughts to others, because those thoughts would be complaints. I mulled the idea of de-complaining the thoughts by proposing solutions or whatnot, but it seemed too much effort for no real gain, so I just stilled my fingers on the keyboard.
I edged perilously close to complaining at a few points today, but again was saved by being forced to communicate through online chat and was able to resist the temptation.
My partner had a bad day at work, but upon coming home immediately set out for 30 minutes of balancing to re-establish his Zen. I appreciated him not using me as a sounding board for a litany of complaints. He felt better by not dumping on me about things I have no control over, and I felt better for not having been dumped on–and tempted to do the same in return. Win-win, as they say.
I admit, it feels like cheating to be doing the Complaint Free challenge when I’m working from home. It’s much easier to keep from complaining when you have to type out your complaint in a chat program and then hit the Enter key to send it vs. just opening your mouth and letting it spew out without thought.
Today that did not happen, so I am two for two so far on the challenge. I’ll admit there were a few times I came close, but I recognized each one and held my virtual tongue.
On February 3, 2018 I declared myself a victor in the 21-day Complaint Free challenge. By August I had started the challenge again, feeling I had lapsed. According to the entries on this very blog, I lasted seven days on my second attempt before going curiously silent about the whole thing.
Here we are more than two years after my initial success, in the middle of a global pandemic, a recession caused by the same, worldwide protests over police brutality and Donald Trump is President of the United States. If ever there was a time where it felt A-OK to complain, 2020 would seem to be that time. It’s also a great time to challenge myself to rise above the urge to complain, to stay positive and focus on the good, to find solutions instead of just griping about things, especially things I can change.
And so I have donned my purple Complaint Free bracelet again. For the first day I think I got through okay. If I complained to someone else (and I did ask some people to verify if I had), it was too subtle to notice, or I just wasn’t paying enough attention. While either is possible, I think I came through with a legit victory for the day.
The toughest part, as before, will be refraining from sarcasm, or at least sarcasm in the form of “complaining with humor”, which is very close to all sarcasm.
I completed the initial challenge very quickly–the book notes it takes most people 8-10 months to hit 21 consecutive days of no complaints–so there was always that nagging doubt I had complained a few times and not noticed it. We’ll see if I get similar results this time.
As happens sometimes, I went to watch a video on YouTube and found myself going down the rabbit hole, bouncing from one video to the next and there goes an hour of time in what feels like seconds.
It started with watching a live version of “Live and Let Die” from 2009, followed by the opening credits version, then another live version from 1973. The song was a big hit, but I’m still surprised because structurally it’s a bit odd, with no traditional verse/chorus and several sudden shifts in tone (which McCartney was known for, especially in his early 70s songs).
This eventually, somehow, led to an “uncensored” version of Pearl Jam’s “Jeremy.” I love just about everything about this song: it’s catchy, evocative, haunting, it’s great fun to sing along with (“You too can be Eddie Vedder!”) and the video, which won MTV’s Video of the Year award in 1992, is equally effective, due to the young actor playing Jeremy, the striking art direction and, of course, the ever-intense Vedder howling away, veins on his forehead bulging.
I figured the uncensored part was the line “seemed a harmless little fuck” because MTV generally did not allow f-bombs to be dropped on air. But it turned out to be a mere second of footage right near the end, where Jeremy walks into the classroom, tosses an apple to the teacher, then turns to face his classmates. You see him make a motion as if he is raising a gun, then the shot cuts away to show the other children in tableau, with looks of shock and horror on their faces, many of them splattered in blood.
Some took this to mean Jeremy had shot up the room, but the uncensored version, in that one second of previously unseen footage, shows him raising the gun and putting it in his mouth. It’s quite chilling, and while I always thought that’s what happened, it was still stunning to see it. I get why MTV would not air it–probably out of fear of inspiring troubled kids to emulate Jeremy–but it’s good to see Pearl Jam finally make the original version of the video widely available. Its message of bullying, depression and suicide are probably more relevant now than they’ve ever been.
A sad coda in the comments (I know, never read the comments, but the ones I read are surprisingly decent) notes that the actor who played Jeremy died in a drowning accident in 2016 at the age of 36. The band went to his funeral.
Today a lot of media sites are participating in support of an initiative, using the hashtags #TheShowMustBePaused and #BlackLivesMatter (not without some unintended consequences).
Here’s what you’ll see if you access Apple music right now, for example:
This is in response to the killing of George Floyd, a black man, by members of the Minneapolis Police force. Since word of the killing, complete with footage, came out on Monday, protests have formed around the world and particularly across the United States. Most have been peaceful, some have been violent, some have been infiltrated by white interlopers looking to make the peaceful protesters look bad by association with their destructive actions.
These protests against police brutality have been rife with even more police brutality, with people doing nothing at all being attacked, teargassed, and beaten. Journalists are being violently attacked. It is disgusting and lays bare just how perverted the police forces in the U.S. have become, interested more in oppression and violence than actually protecting people, especially when it comes to anyone whose skin color is not white.
I am a white man, about as privileged as can be. I am a member of a minority, but it is an essentially invisible one. Most people won’t know I’m gay unless I specifically mention it, or, I don’t know, wear nothing but Pride-themed clothing. But I am very obviously a white guy. I cannot conceive of the things black people must go through in the U.S.–or even in Canada, which has yet to exorcise its own racist demons. It fills me with anger and despair that people can so thoroughly let themselves be subsumed by hate in service of power and authority, of feeling superior to others.
And in the U.S. they are aided and encouraged by a terrible monster of a man, Donald Trump, who is leading the destruction of the country, lashing out and inciting from the basement of the White House, the windows dark at night as he huddles in safety deep below ground, a fitting place for an unrepentant troll.
The Verge has a story today on how Twitter and Facebook should just ban people like Trump, because their tweets and posts are fomenting hate and division, and getting people killed. I agree. This is just one story of many you can find like it on the web right now, but marvel at how a tech site–a place where you go to read about gadgets and reviews of MacBooks–feels compelled to publish an editorial like this. This is the world we live in now.
Like puberty, the global pandemic has been impossible to avoid. But at least this time my voice didn’t change.
While the future remains unwritten and hopefully won’t turn into a real life recreation of The Stand, here’s what’s changed (and what hasn’t) during life in a global pandemic.
Also, I like lists.
Here’s what’s changed:
Work from home. This is the biggie, of course. I started work from home (WFH) on March 18, so it’s been about two months, though it feels like a lot longer. The idea that this would happen at the beginning of the year was absurd. I expect to be WFH at least through the summer, which will mean at least six months total, and it could extend to the end of the year, which would be 10 months total. That’s a lot of commute time saved. UPDATE, November 29, 2021: WFH lasted until I quit in August 2021 (16 months). Service desk staff had to return to campus in September.
Speaking of commute time, I have no commute. I used to ride on two different SkyTrain lines and spend just over one hour traveling to or from work. Now I roll out of bed, cross the living room and I’m there. My commute has gone from over 60 minutes to under 10 seconds.
I am getting more sleep. This is directly related to no commute, as I am getting up an hour and a half later now.
I am saving money. This is related to WFH and having no commute. I am not buying a two-zone monthly fare card (currently $131), plus my use of transit has dropped to near zero. I have been on the SkyTrain twice in the last two months, versus 44-50 trips per month previously.
I am gaining weight. Snacking is a lot more convenient. I am working on this, but I have added 5+ pounds since this began.
I am exercising less. I’ve been doing walks, both on and off the treadmill, but I’ve only done a single run outdoors. I’m just not comfortable running outside right now, even though I know it’s not actually high risk or anything.
Reading time has declined. I am currently five books behind on my modest Goodreads Reading Challenge for 2020 because my reading time used to be during my commute and, well, see the second bullet point. I’m starting to finally read again, so may start catching up on this.
Shopping has shifted online or been severely reduced. I’ve purchased stuff from Apple and Best Buy online (and Amazon, of course) and had it delivered, something I generally would not do (I’d just go to the respective stores). This usually means I wait longer to get something (which is fine). In-person shopping is always done solo and no more than once a week if possible. Shopping in-store is relatively unpleasant now due to physical distancing requirements and some members of the public being indifferent or actively hostile to these requirements. The online shopping experience has varied as follows:
Amazon: The closest locker is closed, so they deliver direct to door. Typically, once they get in the building, the drivers leave packages at the condo door. This means stuff could potentially be stolen. Not good.
Apple: They ship free (yay) via UPS. UPS comes to the building, they try buzzing our suite number (this doesn’t work, as the buzzer number is not the same as the suite number–which they can see if they read the list of occupants next to the buzzer), then leave a note and I have to pick up the package the next day at a store a few blocks away. This is not convenient, but it’s less risk.
Best Buy. They ship through Canada Post (Update: they actually rotate through Canada Post and couriers, depending on availability). If the package is large, the delivery person will leave a key to a Canada Post large item locker in the lobby of our building, across from the mailboxes. This is convenient, and I wished Apple shipped this way, even if it meant a day or two extra for delivery.
What hasn’t changed:
Work is mostly the same. With in-classroom issues eliminated, the actual work I do is much the same as before, I just do it from a desk at home instead of a desk on campus. I like WFH and hope to keep doing it because not having that one hour commute is a gigantic improvement in quality of life.
Still playing Diablo 3. But I’m nearly done getting my final character to level 70. After that, all the treasure goblins in the world will not bring me back (maybe).
Mealtimes and other routines, like a walk at noon. Times and locations have shifted, but the activities are still the same.
And other miscellaneous stuff.
This weekend marks the beginning of the easing of some restrictions, but I don’t expect things will change much for me. Physical distancing will still be in place when shopping and many mall stores will remain closed (like Apple, for example) or will be restricting their sales to things like curbside pickup. I guess we can go to provincial parks again (during the day), though as I type this it’s pouring rain. Normally that’s a bummer on a holiday weekend, but this time it may just help us flatten the curve a little more when so many people are anxious to get out and get “back to normal”–something I suspect will not be happening for quite a while.
You know who I’m talking about. I don’t post much about politics because so much of it is flat out depressing, but I think it’s important to examine the politicians who make it into government, to learn from them, even when they are terrible. Or maybe especially when they are.
I came across this piece on John Gruber’s Daring Fireball. It’s an examination of Trump, what he is and where we are now. It’s depressing, accurate and important.
And so they ask Trump questions about what he’s saying, and he talks about what he always talks about; he never knows anything useful, cannot tell the truth about the few things he knows, and is pulled by his own preposterous vanity and insecurities back toward the only thing he really cares about, which is himself. This is what the news is made of, now—the things that a vainglorious fraud says, and then the things that other people on television say about how Dangerous and Irresponsible they are, and then what Trump says about that in his amphetamized after-dark Twitter sessions or scrambling tantrum-swept mornings. It’s not that the things Trump says aren’t actually dangerous or irresponsible: They absolutely are. The bigger problem is that the definition by which these things are considered news—basically, because the president says them—is no longer workable.
Bonus quote. Really, go read this now:
…what Trump says will always be nonsensical and self-serving because his brain is a gilded bowl of rotten nectarines
A few days ago I went on one of my near-daily walks down to Hume Park and saw some visual confirmation of something I’d read online, where the City of New Westminster is shifting tactics when it comes to physical distancing. This sign is now on the lacrosse box, which as you can see, is now padlocked:
“Lack of physical distancing” is pretty clearly saying, “You jerks kept tromping all over the place like there wasn’t a pandemic, so no more fun for you.” The second paragraph carries a veiled threat that parks and trails could be closed entirely.
I can’t say I’m surprised. I think there is a group of people who just don’t care or grasp the risk the virus carries, so they go about things as they normally would, aware that there is a pandemic because they always see it on the news, but indifferent to its effects and of taking precautions.
There is another group, too, one that has been drawing more attention to itself as lockdowns stretch on: the protesters who bristle against their “freedom” being curtailed by the enforcement of physical distancing, restaurant closures and the inability to get a haircut. Especially in the United States, where “rugged individualism” has morphed into a kind of scary self-parody, you see these people gathering outside government buildings, yelling and screaming about being able to do what they damn well want, when they want and more importantly, where they want (some of these protesters wear medical masks, which is curious). These people willfully ignore signs related to physical distancing, because they will not be oppressed. They will, of course, continue to endanger the health of others.
