Eye roll

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Crisis

Published November 8, 2021 by helentastic67

Crisis



I’ve recently suffered another birthday. Did I suffer? No! Given the alternative, I’d rather suffer another birthday.

I turned 48, yes! I know you were all wondering, so I just ripped the band-aid off. I don’t even have an issue with being this age. What’s in a number?

I’m going to start to bring into my writing influences of age and wisdom. Maybe this post should be called that? But it won’t always be subtle, but it will be there.

My beautician (yes! I’m that age where I consider I have one of those), one day I turned to ask how her day was and she had spent her morning helping a younger lady because she was not even upset but distraught because she was about to turn (wait for it!) 30.

Did you hear me? Fucking 30! Eye roll!

I asked said beautician (let’s call her J), “Did you slap her?” I am not about to shame the much younger generation so hang in there. Allow me to teach you something?

Up until 20, you learn, you play really. You know NOTHING, you think you know everything. Then your 20’s. In your 20’s, you sort out who you are in life. You hopefully work hard, play harder, but you settle into the who you will grow up to be maturity.

Then 30, again, say it with me now. FUCKING 30.

That’s when you should be able to not need to make the big decisions in life. They should be done with and should still be working hard and be able to play harder too. So, it is to say, I know I’m not ‘young’ anymore. But I’m not old either.

I learned some years ago I was no longer ‘Young’, when I saw a ‘cool’ pair or streetwear jeans on a younger girl and she and her friend were getting off the same train I was getting off, I said “cool jeans!” and she said nothing and after getting off the train, she and her friend shared an embarrassing giggle.

I clearly wasn’t asking where to buy them. I did my streetwear jeans like a pro in my 20’s and now my left foot would get tangled and I would fall over. Let alone, I can’t get in and out of jeans in a hurry when I need to, or I just can’t do jeans anymore.

But a lesson to the ‘young’, when someone is giving you a compliment, be graceful. One thing is required of you and I want you to practice it with me now. Say “Thank you”

Some old lady (me in this case) used to be you and she just appreciates what you have going on, even though she no longer can. That is the correct and only thing required of you. Most importantly, you will be old(er) one day too. (If you are lucky)

Now, to the older generation.

I know, I’m not as old as you, I already make the noises you make when I get up and to the older generation. You have not survived two world wars, one maybe. My friend Bette survived the second world war. She was fostered out of London, from her parents to stay with a family on a farm back in that era. The government paid the families to feed them and she tells me they used them as slave labour.

Anyway, I digress

I’m saying, I am old enough to recall a time when there was such a thing as customer service. Oh, what’s that? It’s when someone greets you when you go into a store and just in passing asks you how you were, it’s a friendly way to let people know you are there if you need any assistance and you would assist people even if it meant directing them to another store. Because the mentality was, if you wanted good customer service they would come back.


The irony is even with my blogging process, my cafe/writing process and my now Girl-Friday typing up my posts and the fuck you Covid putting a serious kink in my access to cafes to write and here we are I only just turned 48!

Not complimenting too many young people these days, but still intend to.

European Stare

Published September 2, 2019 by helentastic67

European Stare

There is likely a version of this in every country and culture, as is my style I prefer to describe a situation or scenario, so you can best imagine to which that I refer.

I had scheduled a time to call a friend, we are both busy. I often do this as it’s how I make sure things happen and my life works.

While I’m busy with my appointments, my ‘not-working’ and the voluntary stuff and the friend with her family and being a mum.

So, I rang her and after the bold statement that she felt ‘people didn’t call her because they think she’s OK, because she has a husband’.

Um, can you feel my eye rolls?

You all know I don’t have a husband?

The painful conversation continued and she was telling me about a toy they had purchased for their second child, said child was clearly in the background and correcting mum for calling said toy by its wrong name.

Can you feel my disinterest in said conversation?

This story come from about five years ago and I can’t believe how vividly I recall it. There seemed to be more conversation between mother and daughter than mother and Helen, so I cut the call short because it was giving me a migraine.

,

The following day I had a conversation with a friend in actual person. Said person comes from a Greek background and is as ‘Aussie’ as I am. She threw me a look of horror and surprise. I couldn’t help it, I smiled because we both know what she was going to say.

She said “Oh no! My daughter come up to me when I’m on the phone and they know not to bother me.” She went on to say the closer her children insisted on her attention the sterner the “look” would get.

My mum, who is not European, is from good Aussie/English/Irish stock, yet not first fleet.

Did not do European stare.

As a youngster, my mum spent a lot of time on the phone. No really, so long, if there is a world record for mum’s spending time on the phone it would have my mum’s name on it.

She did something different after stomping our feet and grumbling, doing the little grumpy dance (You know the one, lie you need to go to the bathroom and are waiting for permission) Didn’t need to, just painting a picture. I was young.

Mum can say to whomever she was speaking to “Can you just hang on a second?” as she put her hand over the mouth piece and said to you. “Can you go peel the potatoes” or maybe “Pick some carrots” or you know “feed the cat.” You knew, it was always something, seemed like busy work to me.

So, you either learned to leave her be and find something close to distract yourself, but you know she could talk. Now I use the European stare on her. It’s good for every time you need to communicate simple things and easy to add tone.

 

Junkies

Published January 11, 2019 by helentastic67

junkies 1

Junkies

Today I thought I’d have a bit of a grumpy rant about Junkies and I’ll premise this post by quoting Russell Brand when he appeared on Alan Carr’s Grand National Spectacular.

alan carr

If you are not familiar with his show, he’s from the UK and he’s night time show is similar to the American late-night shows and he starts the show offering his guest a beverage that he throws together at his drinks tray.

alan carr drinks

Now, Russell Brand has very publicly quit all of his bad habits and advocated to Governments about the problems of living as a heroin junky and such.

russell brand

So, there is that awkward moment where Alan Carr turns to his guest and prompts him with a “Oh, now you have a problem with…..?” Bit of an open-ended question. Very awkward.

now you have a problem

But rather brilliantly, Russell Brand responds with “I didn’t have a problem with drugs and alcohol” “I had a problem dealing with Life Problems” and I find that I greatly admire Russell Brand for that infinite wisdom.

lifes problems

So, it’s with infinite annoyance as not having a problem “dealing with life/pills/drugs/alcohol” that when I went to the chemist a month ago to get my over the counter packet of Panadeine, side bar, Panadeine, pretty low on Opiate list and it takes me months to get through a packet of 24, as I skip out my Panadol (very low grade opiate) for period pain as I’m not allowed to have blood thinners.

low grade opiates

NO MORE NAPROGESIC or as one pharmacist I have known call them the “Special Blue Pill, that stop us killing men” once at the chemist, I was informed I now needed a script for Panadeine.

naprogesic

Damn Junkies

Of course, the pharmacist came over and in front of the regular chic, I mostly get to see at the chemist, comes over to recommend another option off the shelf. I mention I can’t do blood thinners and when anyone starts mentioning Codeine and “whatever” my eyes glaze over.

eyes glazed over 1

I mention my baseline pain management is Panamax and that during my crazy-lady hormone time I swap out the Panamax for Panadeine. But I’ll get a script and this month I’ll hit it with some Oxy norm (5mg high on the Opiate family tree, but only takes the edge off serious pain for me for three hours).

pain relief 1

The regular woman immediately laughed appreciating my humour. The pharmacist looked somewhat concerned and I think I only got exempted from a lecture about being careful etc, because the other lady laughed.

pharmacy lecture

And I got a script.

I returned to the chemist a week later with said script and was informed there was a problem at the manufacturers, so no appropriate pain relief again.

no pain relief

I gave it a rest for a few weeks before revisiting the chemist, only to be informed the script was rendered useless, because they had discontinued. I was offered other, other options and codeine and other words were bandied about. (My brain just goes to sleep)

pain relief

I don’t want to have to think about other options, I can’t do blood thinners. Why do I keep having to have the same conversation?

get home

Fine!  I’ll go home and hit my pain with some (Oxy norm) and a sledge hammer.

Apparently now, I can get Panadeine Extra and guess what I need, a different script. FARK!!!

Luckily, I book my GP every four to six weeks and even if I rang him, he would happily send me a script. But my point is, JUNKIES and their inability to deal with life (thanks Russell Brand) I had to jump through hoops to get.

jump through hoops

Furthermore, ironically when I started writing this post a week ago, in the back room of my favourite café, where I overhear the usual first world problems.

Three older ladies at a table beside me were discussing their ‘Problem Child’. The way she was speaking, I imagined said child to be around seven and maybe on the Autism Spectrum? I imagine Autism to be diagnosed earlier than that and I also imagine this woman to be too old to have seven-year-old. Not being “Ageist” but also imagined she was talking about a grandchild, because there was a slight sense of ‘distance’ in how she was discussing the ‘issue’.

problem child

So, write busy, eating, drinking and writing several pages of this post, I soaked up the conversation around me and managed not to react. (I’ve been accused at work years ago of having Dumbo Ears. Well, in my defence you do learn by osmosis in some work environments)

dumbo ears

So, the problem child, I’ll give it to you straight, seventeen years old, male, addicted to gaming. Um? Yes, it’s an addiction when you have to have your internet cut off at midnight so your teenage kids sleep. Sure, but seventeen-year-old boy.

addicted to gaming

Poor kid, was getting slammed for doing what a lot of teenage boys (sometimes grown men) do for oddly, their social down time.

So, yeah, also my eye rolls that this mum was putting her son’s addiction to computer games in the same league as Heroin.

eye roll

I have two words for how to snap teenagers out of their habits of too much gaming. Adult diapers. That should snap them right out of it, no.

adult diapers

Oddly having struggled to get any sugar from the sugar dispenser, I had helped myself to sugar from the ladies table, I had struggled so much, I gave up.

sugar

I couldn’t be bothered asking for their help so had given up, eventually, Gabriella came to clear the tables and I mentioned the sugar bottle being blocked and I asked the ladies beside me if they had trouble with getting any sugar? I was informed they hadn’t even used the sugar and the look I received as if I had a ‘Problem’ with sugar. I have half a teaspoon, hardly a problem.

“Several months later I am horrified to realise the solution now called Panadeine Extra, comes in a 24 packet and costs me $16 and I use half of this over a 3-day time frame.

panadeine extra

My other scripts only cost me $6.50 each. And then there’s everything else I take to keep me healthy I pay out of pocket, that I can’t get on a script.

 

I am aware this sounds like first world problems but I don’t have the option to not get medications and vitamins and the like. These things keep me healthy. Keeping healthy keeps a roof over my head and my independence. That’s how I deal with life issues!

stay healthy

I’m not drowning my sorrows in a bottle, yet when others do it, it still impacts me too.

 

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