The chronic malcontent receives a challenge

I let a friend read my anonymous blog. The next time I saw her she said, “I have a challenge for you.” I thought she was going to ask me how to cook an artichoke or replace a plastic wheel cover, but no such luck. “I challenge you to write a blog post about the opposite of the chronic malcontent.”

I gaped at her. What would that be? Would that be my ridiculously happy inner optimist? She seemed awfully certain such a persona bubbled somewhere inside me. My brain instantly fried at the idea.

I'm sure as I gaped I rolled my eyes. Although I've sought spiritual help for that particular character flaw, my eye-rolling habit hasn't eased up much, probably because eye-rolling expresses so eloquently what I am so often thinking and feeling without my having to say a word. “I'll give it some thought,” I said, not willing to promise something I couldn't deliver.

I didn't want to admit I've worked hard over the years to erase my inner optimist. As a founding member of Optimists Anonymous, I can claim many years of continuous abstinence from optimism. Like all members of Opt-Anon, I've trained myself to look only on the dark side. I sing only dirges, if I sing at all. Mostly I just moan. I admit, sometimes I smile. But I'm crying on the inside.

We've got a lot to cry about these days. Lately, I bury my nose in my cat's fur and groan. What's my problem? For once, it isn't about me. I want to know, how can optimism cure the illnesses of the world?

I have deep sadness for all the people who suffer everywhere, too many to name. I'm sure you do too. Tragedy isn't about optimism or pessimism. How I feel affects nothing. I weep at the photos of California burning. I moan at stories of Puerto Ricans dying from lack of clean water. I gnash my teeth and wail at the photos of Rohingya women whose children have been snatched from their arms and thrown alive into fires. It is all too clear, life sucks and then we die.

I want to move to a village of women, surrounded by a wall of thorns, preferably somewhere with affordable health insurance and endless sunshine. I might be willing to blow my Opt-Anon program to sing and dance with my arms waving free. I might even take my top off, who knows, and help with child care.

The end feels near, but quietly near: I expect to go out with a whimper, not a bang. Apocalypses are for dramatic people. Us bland folks just wither, shrivel, and blow away with civilization's dusty hair balls. Meanwhile, I keep my head down and trudge the road of malcontented destiny. It doesn't matter how we feel, people. Nobody cares what we think. It's all about action. Gotta keep on truckin' til it's over.

The chronic malcontent feng shuis the crap out of her desk

You know things are heading south when feng shui-ing your desk seems like a solution. Today as I was avoiding writing an article I'm not sure how to start, I ran across a video by a blonde white woman who wanted to feng shui her desk so she could be more productive. I thought, Hey, I want to be more productive. Is that all I need to do, feng shui my desk? What the hell is feng shui, anyway?

As I started writing this post, I suddenly wondered, Hey, have I already written about this? I did a quick search on my blog, and sure enough, back in 2013 when I was whining about waiting for my Chair to tell me to resubmit my wretched massive tome for the umpteenth time, I wrote about feng shui-ing the Love Shack. Did it work? I finished the dissertation, if that means anything.

This time, I just want to write a short article. Maybe I don't have to do the whole place. I'm thinking just my desk. Like the rest of the place, my desk is swamped with clutter and detritus. Sticky notes, toothpicks, half-empty ballpoint pens, used tissues, unfiled papers... Is it hampering my productivity? Probably. I will apply feng shui principles to fix my desk qi. Chi. Whatever.

Where do I start? I guess with the Bagua. Okay. I'm imagining my desk divided into nine quadrants. Tic tac toe. Right ahead of me is the career quadrant. What do I see there? My keyboard. The color for this quadrant apparently should be black. My keyboard is black! Right on, sister. I'm feeling more energetic already. What's next? The lower right quadrant is for attracting helpful people and travel. Hmmm. Right now, that quadrant is occupied by my desktop scanner and a beat up cardboard box of pens, sticky notes, highlighters, and binder clips. What does this mean? Maybe that I'll soon be traveling to the office supply store for more paper clips and tape? No doubt that is where the helpful people will be found.

The next quadrant is for creativity. Uh-oh. Another box placed to control the clutter, this one larger, made of clear plastic. This box corrals my mother's checkbook, my digital camera, postcards I never sent advertising my book, and miscellaneous pamphlets. Maybe with the exception of my camera, I don't see a whole lot of creativity going on in this quadrant.

The upper right quadrant should have something pink, for attracting love. I'm not seeing any pink. This is where I keep my receipts, stacked up on a dinky chest of drawers that holds stamps, erasers, and other miscellaneous office supplies. Behind the chest are the local phone books. Every year I get new phone books. I use them once or twice a year, but I can't say I love these phone books. No love going on here that I can see. Well, my mother's receipts are stacked next to mine. Maybe that is evidence of love.

In the upper middle quadrant, we have fame. The color for fame is red, and this is where the light should be placed. Yay, this is where my clip-on gooseneck lamp leans out over my computer monitor. Finally, something in the right place. But my lamp is black, not red. Darn it. Maybe I should change the bulb out for a red bulb? That would be creepy. Can't see how that would bring me fame, but who knows how this feng shui stuff works. Maybe I need to be willing to work by eerie red lamp light in order to become famous. Do I want fame? Maybe not that much.

The upper left quadrant is for wealth. Gold, purple, green... nope, I see the monster black tower of my computer's processor, taking up the entire quadrant. I guess I could call it a wealth black hole... I recently upgraded my computer's brain. It runs much faster now, but I am somewhat poorer. Maybe I can line up some gold trinkets along the top of the box, that might help.

The middle left quadrant is for family. Half of my printer takes up that entire space. My cordless phone sits there too, my lifeline to family. Okay! Color should be green. Sigh. Moving on. The lower left quadrant is for knowledge. The rest of my printer takes up that space, and no, it is neither green nor blue, it's black. But it prints in blue or green on a good day, does that count?

Finally, the middle quadrant is reserved for health. My computer monitor sits solidly in that space. Where else would I put it? The color should be yellow or earth tones. Once again, I fail. My monitor is black, although it can show yellow and earth tones, on occasion. It's just black around the edges, right? Do they even make yellow monitors? I know, I can arrange a bunch of yellow sticky notes around the edge, like a frame. That oughta do it.

I'm feeling a bit disappointed that my desk isn't easily feng shui-able, until I remember, hey, feng shui is magic! I don't have to see these colors to make them fix my qi. I can tape colored paper under each quadrant, under my desk! I know, how cool is that! It's kind of like think and grow rich! Do what you love and the money will follow! Visualize world peace! We all know those work like a charm. Just knowing the colors are there is apparently enough. It's like taking vitamins. it's all about faith.

Okay. Did feng shui-ing my desk work? Do I feel more energized? Am I more productive? Hey, I wrote a blog post, does that count? What about that article, you say? Well, it's lunchtime. I'm hungry. The sun is shining. I need to get my laundry out of the dryer. Maybe I'll take a nap. Maybe feng shui takes some time to work. Oh wait, I forgot. I need to clap my hands in all the corners of the room to dispel negative qi. Back in a moment.

Okay. Wow, suddenly I feel so tired. Too much sorrow, too much feng shui. Exit, stage right.