The Good

      Once you break the cycle of the CouchSpirAssy you have some choices to make.  Most tend to overshoot and try to make up for lost time.  After days or months or years of scrolling and watching and watching and scrolling what is there to do?  Scroll.  Watch. Scroll.  Watch.  Laugh.  Cry.  Buy.

    Emotions are manipulated by an algorithm that was not designed to let you feel them and be more human but to guide you to click and subscribe.  If you would be so kind as to hit that merchandise store too, that would be great.

     Let’s say we’ve been lucky enough to break the cycle.  Now what?  What was the reason to watch and scroll?  Was it a search for something useful?  Could it have been driven by determination?  Could it have been a search driven by ambition?

     Ambition feels like determination’s seductive sibling.  It’s the one constantly telling you ‘You look good in that outfit’ or asking ‘Have you lost a few pounds?’ and winking at you. 

     Determination feels like the drive to accomplish something.  Ambition feels like the drive to accomplish something and be recognized for it.

     Years ago, the goal at work was to do a good job, get a pay check, and be left alone.  The idea was to make enough to pay off a credit card or save up to put a down payment on a house or buy a car.  In some cases, those ideas were replaced when, in striving for your own personal goal, a work milestone was hit.  

     There was maybe an Employee of The Month or a Top Sales award or a shout out that garnered a bonus.  This is fine.  It only becomes a problem when you constantly chase the Employee of the Month or the Top Sales Award or constantly do something for that shout out.  This ambition might alienate others who then feel like they are only a stepping stone in helping to achieve a goal.

     When you push from drive to determination to ambition be sure to stay on track so you don’t crash into the hellish fourth wall.  Once you start chasing employee of the month or top sales or shout outs, you, if you aren’t careful, can unknowingly slide beyond determination’s seductive sibling to become its creepy cousin, desperation.

     When you are young and hungry you might not know you are desperate.  That desperation to learn or succeed can be channeled back towards determination and settle into drive.  It has to be done right.  If it’s not, determination will come off as nothing more than ambitious desperation.

     What happens if you start out wanting employee of the month or the top sale or the shout outs and you don’t get them?  Frustration.  Frustration + determination can sometimes smell of desperation.  

     What happens when this spills out into life, dating, general existing?  Could it be the reason for trying to escape by scrolling and watching and watching and scrolling?  

     Maybe we don’t need to be the perfect employee of the month, top sales rep, best husband, wife, boyfriend, girlfriend, writer, musician, mechanic, father, mother, son, or daughter.  Could we be happy by just trying to be good?  Not the best or the worst but the good. 

     Years were spent trying not only to be the best employee, the best writer, the musician, and the best dating choice.  It all ended in deep frustration.  There was a time when I wanted to be with someone.  I was lucky enough to then be with her.  I could never shake the feeling that I was holding her back from being with the person she really deserved to be with in life because I didn’t feel like the perfect dating choice.

     There was losing out on a promotion or raise and being so angry even though getting the promotion or raise wasn’t really what was wanted.  

     I remember working at a job that had a promise of a Big Pay Day.  I took the job because my Dad was sick and I felt if I could find the formula, I could fund the family.  The problem was I wouldn’t be there to help BUT if it all worked out, I could cover the costs.

     I was on the road for 2 hours a day and I sat in an office for 12 hours a day looking for that big deal.  It never came.  I never made employee of the month or top sales.  I was too tired to be there for him when he passed away.  My frustration killed all of the drive and the determination.  The desperation didn’t allow me to enjoy the last months, days, or hours.

     I have never had lower moments in my life than when I was chasing someone else’s perception of happiness.  I have always had the highest highs when I have taken time to acknowledge the good and allowed myself to experience the joy around me.

     Lately I have been taking time to inhale deep and let my shoulders drop.  I plant my feet on the floor and stretch. Each day I push the door open a little further and find another reason to let myself experience joy.  

     I would like to think that I am not desperate now.  There is still a lot of clutter to work through.  I would like to think that I am determined to do better.  I admit there will be the occasional overshoot while I try to make up for lost time.  Unfortunately to those who are just coming in without knowing the back story, this determination to do better could come off as nothing more than ambitious desperation.

The Problem

      The problem is not what I thought it would be.  I used to picture the stereotypical.  I pictured the stumbling and the slurring of words.  I used to picture rumpled clothes and smell of alcohol from yards away.
     There used to be a restaurant in Barrington.  An older couple would come in every weekend and have dinner.  During the course of the night while I was bussing tables the wife would always make sure the waiter kept her wine glass full.  Midway through dinner she would begin an argument.  You could constantly hear the husband quietly saying “Shhhh, darling, we’re not at home.  What would these good people think of you if you started yelling like you do when we’re at home?”
     He would apologize to the staff when they were on the way out.  He always tipped extra.  Come to find out later it was his way of having a quiet night out.  She wouldn’t yell as much when she was in public and would normally be ‘asleep’ by the time they got home.
     I pictured the alcohol problem as concentrated incidents.  Someone would spend the night throwing up in a bathroom.  You fight to get someone’s keys so they don’t drive home from the party, bar, or hotel.  There is a person who sits at the bar from the time he gets out of work until the bar closes.  He (normally he) is typically cut off after one too many attempts at grab ass with the waitresses or the bartender picks up on the slurring and glossy eyes.
     There is a ‘This shit will never happen to me’ mentality.  It hits everyone different.  You never see it coming and that hit changes you.
     There was a moment when I went from having a second glass of wine to thinking about opening that second bottle to realizing I was on my second glass in my second bottle.
     I would be working on a project.  I would start around noon with an empty screen and an idea.  There would be a moment of music or a written paragraph here and a sip of Merlot there.  I could work until midnight and never be ‘drunk’ but a whole bottle would disappear.  Then it went from enhancing my ideas to being my main idea.  Rather than having a drink between takes or creative sparks, it became a creative spark between drinks.
     I would have a glass or two while playing or writing hoping an idea would hit as hard as the buzz.  It never got beyond the buzz but it never got below.
     The missing mornings would be chalked up to working late into the night but there would never be anything to show for all of that late night work but an empty bottle or two.
     The CouchSpirAssy had found its partner in crime.  In doing so it also messed up.  Most of the time things aren’t stopped because they should be stopped.  Things are stopped because they are inconvenient.  The inconvenience is usually discovered by accident.
     Because so much time had been spent in front of a screen writing or playing music, my electric bill was a bit higher that month.  Some chilly nights I wrote with a little space heater on to stay warm.  If I was playing music, the keyboard, drum machine, computer, amps, and speakers were plugged in for recording and playback.
     When I went to pay the bill, I noticed my bank balance was a bit light.  I checked to see where the funds went.  The amount of the bill could have been paid twice over by the multiple subscriptions, food deliveries, and trips to the winery I had slipped into by giving into the CouchSpirAssy.  I would be able to pay the bill but I would have to wait until my next pay cycle and it would be paid with a late fee.  
     This was my inconvenience.  I got lucky.  It was a wake up call.  I started getting rid of the unnecessary subscriptions.  I cut back on the food delivery and, with a bit of difficulty, the wine.  I’ve known people jolted awake by serious falls, lost friends, totaled cars, and broken relationships.
     I had to inhale deep, let my shoulders drop, plant my feet on the floor, stretch, and shake it out.  When reality hits, it hits hard and it hits everyone different.  You never see it coming and that hit changes you.

In Theory

      In theory it should have worked.  But it was destined to fail because it had a few machines against it.  The timing also crushed the momentum.  You can’t have an idea like that and a time like that hit together.  It is a recipe for disaster.
     Don’t get me wrong.  It is a great idea if you really know what you’re getting into long term.  If you see a video here or there and give it a try without knowing what you’re getting into, you will hit the brick wall.  You will be so overwhelmed that paralysis will kick in and nothing will be accomplished.
     The idea that you will be able to just wake up and clear out every closet, dresser, cabinet, and nook and cranny in the attic, basement, or garage would be wonderful.
     The goal is to get rid of the things that weigh you down and just keep the things that bring you happiness and joy.  Therein lies the rub.  Most people don’t know what truly brings them happiness or joy.  This is the main reason you have most of the things you are thinking about throwing out.
     At some point that tool/game/project/toy/outfit seemed like a great idea.  It was great until it wasn’t.  For years the idea was “You just need to buy ONE more thing and that will finally give you happiness!” until, you know, it didn’t.
     When the idea of minimalism came around it seemed to strike a chord.  “Maybe if I get rid of all of the shit I bought that is making me miserable, THAT will give me happiness.”
     I have a box of black trash bags.  I recently tried to clear a jam packed closet in my house.  I had on a sweatshirt, jeans, and a pair of gloves.  There was a plan to clear out everything and either hit the dump before they close for the day or get the bags on the sidewalk for the trash man to pick up the next morning.
     2 hours later nothing had been accomplished because I’d found a box of 30 year old photos and spent most of the time texting, “Holy Shit!  We were so young!” to everyone in the photos whose number I still had in my phone.  
     If it wasn’t that, it was bills, letters, cassette tapes, or some other nostalgia bait that ground whatever progress I was hoping to accomplish to a complete halt.
     “But … but the Throw It All Away Woman and those minimalist guys said …” or “it didn’t seem like it would be this hard in the video on you/twit/face/insta/treads”.  Of course it didn’t.  You are trying to give up things that at some point really meant something to you.  Even if eventually they didn’t, you wanted them to mean something to you.
     Covid was one of the machines that did not help.  Everything was going great for those who managed to clean out their apartments, houses, and condos.  The idea was you kept no excess in your space.  If you needed something you could always go to the store, library, gym, or restaurant.  
     Once again, in theory this would have worked if the world hadn’t shut down the stores, libraries, gyms, and restaurants.  When the space that was your escape from the rest of the world becomes your world and there is no escape from it, it will never be enough space.
     The CouchSpirAssy, another machine, is in full effect.  It whispers “watch those videos, sit on that couch, don’t question why you are paying $20 to watch a movie the same day it releases in the theater.  Get that wallet out of your back pocket.”
     In theory, the happiness and joy we are looking for reside within us.  We’ve been told external items (minimalism, maximalism, etc.) hold the keys to this happiness and joy.  The thing is the door isn’t locked.  Most of us spend so much time looking for keys we really don’t need.  
     Inhale deep.  Let your shoulders drop.  Plant your feet on the floor, stretch, and give the door a try.  If it feels locked, it might just be stuck.  Push a little harder.
     I know I’m going to push a little harder.  Lately I’m trying not to let myself get so overwhelmed that paralysis kicks in and nothing gets accomplished. 

The CouchSpirAssy

     The sad truth is that the couch has power.  It’s like an ass magnet.  It pulls your ass down and gets you so comfortable that you just don’t want to leave.  There’s like a weird conspiracy.  I call it The CouchspirAssy.  Sometimes the urge to do nothing outweighs everything else.
     You don’t even know you’re doing nothing.  One of the great cons of The CouchspirAssy is that you can convince yourself you are accomplishing tasks.  ‘How is that possible’ you ask?  Excellent question.
     How many times over the last four years have you found yourself scribbling down an idea or doing research on something that eventually goes nowhere?  You’ve convinced yourself that you’ve done something but in all honesty nothing has been accomplished.  There is a strong possibility this has taken place on the couch.
     It’s gotten even worse.  With twit/face/insta/space you can lose HOURS of time.  Maybe you’ll find a recipe you can’t wait to try only to still call for take out.  Maybe you’ll find a do it yourself solution to fix that hole in the wall/squeaky floorboard/light fixture only to still be screwing around with that same hole in the wall/squeaky floorboard/light fixture six months later.  You probably watched twit/face/insta/space videos about this.  Where did you watch these videos?  You guessed it … on the couch.
     Who has started the 52 week money challenge?  Who has maxxed out their 401 (k)?  Who has done the Marie Kondo declutter?  Who is doing 100 squats a day (there will be a rant about this later)?  
     Who did those crazy 30 day challenges?  Cold showers?  Running 1 mile a day?  Quitting sugar?  Quitting caffeine?  Journaling?  10,000 steps?
     Where did you watch these videos? Either lying in bed or glued to the couch.
     Watching these videos and not doing the challenge is a time suck.  Your couch, your ass, and these apps know this.  The couch and the apps are conspiring to keep your ass glued to whatever they want to show you.
     The best way to keep your ass comfortable is to remove any friction so it doesn’t cause you any irritation.  It does this by removing anything that might be between your ass and the couch.
     ‘How does it do that’, you ask?  Excellent question.  These videos are powered by ads.  The ads are like a subconscious tap on the shoulder to click a link and spend.  You remove your wallet from your back pocket, making a deeper ass/couch connection.
     Though you may be inspired to do something by watching the main video you are lulled back into complacency by the ad.  This ad catches your attention and lulls you back into that comfy cozy spot on the couch.  With your wallet/purse/credit card already out you make that easy purchase, get that dopamine hit, and sink deeper into that comfy cozy couch.
     Stand up for a moment.  Inhale deep.  Let your shoulders drop.  Plant your feet on the floor, stretch, and shake it out.  Walk away from the screen.  The CouchSpirAssy doesn’t have to be as deep as it seems.  Sometimes the urge to do nothing can be outweighed, not watching other people do something, but by actually doing something.

Work Fling Sting

      “So, what happened?”  The video was a little bit iffy.  The wifi was good at Mom’s house but it wasn’t great.  It worked well enough because it didn’t have much competition.  The only person using it was me.  Mom still loved her traditional hardwired TV.

     We had tried to get her to cut the cable but she wasn’t and still isn’t a huge fan of learning new technology.  I tried to show her how she could watch the shows and news programs she wanted via apps and the internet.  She wanted no part of it.  Too many buttons to push.  Too much mess to manage.

     “I just want to turn on the tv and put it on channel 3.  I don’t have time for all these apps and crap.  Just give me my clicker.  As much money as I pay for all of this, I should just be able to say what I want and the TV should just play it!”

     “Mom,” I said picking up the remote, “you, you can do that.”  Those were my famous last words.  For the next five minutes she watched me fight to have my voice recognized, try to find what I want in one place but get redirected to another, and finally put the remote down in frustration and hand her back her ‘clicker’.

     “It was fine.  He came over and we made dinner.”  Karen answered over the iffy video.

     “Oh that’s…”

     “And then, I kissed him.”

     “Oh…” I was surprised.  She had never been the aggressive one.

     “That sounds great!”  I was really happy for her.  “Annnd…”

     “Annnd he stayed over,” she dropped her shoulders.  I felt that ping thing again.

     “Was it bad?  Did he hurt you?”  I felt a little knot in my chest.

     “No.  Nothing like that.  He was kind and fun.  He was kind and fun the next morning,” she smiled a sad little smile.

     “So, what happened?”

     “When he went to take a shower, his phone rang…”

     “Oh, Karen…” I knew where this was headed.

     “Then the texts from someone named Cheryl started.  ‘Where are you?  Why didn’t you come home?  I thought we were going to meet this morning to talk?’ Then the phone rang a couple more times.”

     “I’m so sorry.”

     “When he got out of the shower I said ‘Sounds like someone’s blowing up your phone’.  He just looked at the messages and said, ‘Oh shit!  I had a great time.  I should have told you … I have to go.’  Then he just got dressed and left.”

     “Oh Karen, I’m so sorry.”

     “I mean, it’s not like I was expecting a wedding ring or anything but some common fucking courtesy would have been nice.  ‘Oh by the way I’m seeing someone’ or ‘This is my soon to be ex and we need to talk things through before it’s finally over.’  None of that.  Just ‘Oh shit! I have to go.’  The good thing about this pandemic is I get to work from home and I don’t have to see them in person.”

     “Them?”

     “They went twit/face/insta/snap official a week later.  Apparently he left his ex to move in with her and now they’re together because of the pandemic.”

     “Twit/face/insta/snap official?  How old are these people?”

     “You don’t want to know.”

     She didn’t cry.  I sat quietly.

     “This shit isn’t supposed to be this hard,” she finally said.  I was worried the video had frozen.

     “It’s not,” I replied.  “But it is.  The lows make the highs higher.  I don’t know if it matters, but when this shitshow virus thing is over and we can do movie nights again, I’ve got a big Kare-Bear hug for you.  You can even pick the next few movies.”

     “The Twilight Series,” she said, far too quickly.  She smiled a real smile for the first time.

     “Really?!?  How old are you?”

     “It’s either that or The Notebook.”

     “Why must you hate me so?” I asked closing my eyes and shaking my head.

     “The lows make the highs higher,” she mocked.

     It was my turn to smile.

     “I have to prep a zoom meeting,” she said rubbing her face.  “I’ll talk to you soon.”

     “You take care of yourself,” I said as the screen went blank.

     I knew I was too much of a mess to manage.  I also knew that if you try to find what you want in one place and get redirected back to another, the universe is usually telling you where you need to be.

Week Four

      I really didn’t mind being at home.  There were no unnecessary trips.  I was back at my Mom’s house.  I was there to make sure she was ok and her world was doing fine.  She was all of those things and more.  The rest of the world was not doing fine.

     It was hard to believe the reports of death and sickness touted on the news.  It always felt like a huge scare tactic to keep you watching.  Many of the news stations are really good at this tactic.

     The best ones make you believe everyone else is deceiving you and only they will tell you the truth.  They make you feel special with a little dopamine hit then cut to their sponsors who knocked you down a bit.  The sponsors let you know that you can get that special feeling back if you buy their product.  It’s a vicious cycle.

     After a few days the news and the podcasts were turned off.  I dug deep into audiobooks from the library.  My library card allows me access to digital audio and ebooks.  The selection can be a bit limited but I always find something to get me through.

     It was a whole lot less expensive than trying to maintain paid subscriptions to the Ama/Dis/Hu/Net/Para money grab. Sadly, I hadn’t ended all the subscriptions, yet.  I was still trying to get through my favorites lists on each platform.  These things should have been the first to go.

     This was not a good thing because there were no new clients coming in the door.  There was no door for clients to open.  The walls of fear and confusion were going up faster than the doors to discovery could be built.  Finances were even tighter.

     There were still certain clients we were trying to get into the Darwin Funds.  Not in this cycle, the next one, when the markets came back.  Generally, the markets always come back and we can move things, but at that moment we told most people to hunker down and wait for the world to work its way back to normal.  The job had become a weekly reassuring phone call and email letting people know we were monitoring the situation.

     The general thought was to hold.  You only really lose in a lull if you sell at the bottom.  We would get them into the Darwin Funds when the market came back up.  It did no good to jump ship now.

     There was literally no place to go.  Most large gathering spots (hotels, restaurants, clubs, bars) were closed.  Grocery stores had limited hours and a limited amount of people that could be let in at a time.  People were waiting to see what would happen over the next month or two.  No one needed me to help them save money they weren’t really spending.

     I didn’t miss the drive to Hartford.  I didn’t miss the clients who wouldn’t show for appointments they pushed to Saturdays.  I didn’t miss paying for parking.  I didn’t miss having to put gas in the car every 4 days.  I didn’t miss being in traffic or seeing the aftermath of car accidents.  I didn’t miss two hour detours due to said accidents.

     There were things I did miss.  I missed dinners with Marrianne.  I missed movie nights with Karen but I had to give her some breathing room to see how her thing from work worked.

     Tony and Amber were still making a go of things.  Tessa was distracted by a new age appropriate guy who was gunning for her attention.  Strangely her fling caused a little chest ping but that was a good thing.

     I still hadn’t heard from a few folks but I wasn’t going to give up on them.  You only really lose if you walk away when things are at rock bottom.  Now was time to hunker down and wait for the world to work its way back to normal.

Time to Stew

      There are certain things you do when you have time to stew.  You don’t really do the things you told yourself you’d do.  That room that was a complete mess is still a mess.  The garage still needs just a few things taken out before the car really fits.
      Speaking of fits, none of the clothes you said you were going to throw away got thrown away.  You found out if your favorite video chat app worked or if it sucked.
     Companies that told you working from home was a logistical nightmare and not a possibility strangely had you up and running in a home office over the weekend.  They not only had you up and running, they would contact you at strange hours to make sure you were doing the nothing they knew you had to do.  It’s like their job went from managing to micromanaging.  They knew there was nothing to do so they made up little bullshit tasks and then tracked said bullshit tasks, while expecting you to do the “job”.
     Streaming sites are like gym memberships.  You have them but you don’t use them as often as you said you would.  Just like the gym memberships, even though you don’t use them, you still pay for them.  You even have a routine all set.  Monday watch this show.  Tuesday watch that show.  It’s amazing how much time is spent just scrolling over new shit that will just get tossed to the back of the favorites list.
     Speaking of the favorites list, the list of “Favorites” is now so long that it would take you two years to get through them even with a worldwide shutdown!
     Streaming services were NOT used to people paying money and actually getting their money’s worth.  It could have been one of the things that caused the spike in pricing and the crackdown on password sharing.
     I found a pair of my favorite sweats and a sweet spot on my couch.  Most of the shows I streamed had aired their last episode 5 to 10 years earlier so I was able to binge from breakfast to bedtime.
     As long as I checked and responded to emails or voicemails at specific points during the day everything was ok.
     There was no great room clean out.  There was no kitchen redo.  There was no home gym expansion.  The attic was still a mess and the basement still needed some attention.
     There was also no fighting traffic on major highways or hunting for parking spaces in full parking lots.  For the first two weeks there was a lot of stewing and streaming, wondering and dreaming.  Even the machines enjoyed the peace and quiet.
     As a break between shows, I would watch drone footage of the empty cities.  It was amazing.  Sadly, there were also horror stories of people being trapped on cruises or in countries without a way to get home.  There were also horror stories of forced lockdowns where people were trapped in their apartments.
     People were on a hamster wheel that went from inaction to overreaction to blame to denial to hysteria and it all played out everywhere from the worldwide stage to comfy quiet little couches.
     I took my time to find a few more favorites to add to the list.  I also took the time to stew on what to do once that list was through.