The Things I No Longer Have Time For...

Ouiser Boudreaux has set up shop in my head, and y'all get to hear about it.

My youngest child turned 20 last week.

Not gonna lie--that's a rough one. It seems like only yesterday I was celebrating the fact that they were all in double digits, and now they've all flown the nest and landed somewhere in their 20s.

Maybe it's that I feel absolutely ancient right now, or maybe it's this ridiculously frigid winter weather we have, or possibly it's the never-ending nature of January in general, but I find myself in a rather curmudgeonly mood. Ouiser Boudreaux has come to hang out for a spell, and she is not playing around.

I have been saying for a while that I was ready to be the Menopausal Truth-Teller, but I hoped the journey to that title would be a little smoother. It has not been even a little bit smooth. I essentially woke up one day to discover that my body had entirely betrayed me in multiple ways, and that every effort I've made to keep it in good working order has only served to delay the decline, perhaps even accelerate it.

So over the past few weeks, I have discovered that there are things I used to do or things I used to bear with patience that I now have absolutely no time for and about which I have zero effs to give.

Here is a short list that will likely get longer.

Chasing People Down

I spent many years doing admin work, and sometimes I was asked to make calls for my bosses or track people down for some reason. Sometimes I had to nag people to turn in timesheets, expense reports, or other paperwork-related things. One of my bosses called me a "bulldog" for pursuing people and papers until I succeeded in gathering up what he required.

Now?

I have no more time for this. Unless it's a matter of life and death, I will call you once, and if you don't call me back, I'll move on. If you initiate a call and miss me and I call you back? That's it. That's all you get. Ball's in your court--you can call me again. Maybe I'll answer, maybe I won't.

This also applies to people I might hire or pay to do things for me. Contractors, for example. You would not believe the trouble we have getting contractors to call us back, reliably schedule our work, or just do basic communication. My patience for this behavior went up in smoke along with all of my stabilizing hormones, and I am now done with it. Y'all get one shot, and then I'm moving on to try someone else.

Spam Calls

This isn't entirely new. I've never particularly enjoyed spam calls or robocalls. Back in the days of home phones and land lines, before caller ID, you just had to actually--gasp--answer the phone and hope it wasn't someone selling weight loss drugs or timeshares.

Now?

If I don't recognize the number, I don't answer. Period.

Norwegian Cruise Lines has been trying to get me to answer their calls for some time. I ignored the call about three times before I blocked the number, which was unusually generous of me. Most of the time, the recognizably spam numbers get blocked immediately. I figure if people really want to reach me, they can leave a message, and I'll call back. Maybe (see above).

Shopping Around

Long, long ago, in the before times, people had to look at weekly grocery store ads and make a plan to stop by one store for the great meat sale, another store for produce, and maybe a third one for that one really weird item that was absolutely necessary, but no one else carried.

Of course, Amazon subscriptions have made a lot of these kinds of trips obsolete. Those weird specialty items are easily found online and shipped right to me. The options for picking up unusual spices or food items in our little North Idaho town are slim, so I order curries, special sauces, and unique spices online. Amazon has made my forays into Thai and Indian cuisine rather simple, at least as far as acquiring ingredients.

We usually go to Coeur d'Alene about once a month to do a big errand run--get haircuts, visit Costco, Walmart, and the big discount grocery store, maybe stop by Home Depot for whatever latest project is. If I can't find what I'm looking for in one of those places, I immediately look online and order it straight from the store. I have no patience to wait for stuff to come in later or maybe be there next time, and I'm certainly not going to drive all around the city looking for stuff.

Internet Drama

I won't blame my lack of patience for Internet drama on menopause, because that has been simmering on low in my psyche for many years.

Now, though, I have tasted the sauce of that simmering pot of No Effs Left Stew and discovered it is ready to serve.

Y'all already know that I've dramatically scaled back my social media engagement. I've been slowly wading into the Substack waters, and while I find them mostly pleasant, I will be proceeding with extreme caution. The lack of face-to-face interaction online seems to bring out the worst in people, and I am unconvinced that online engagement sells tons of books anyway.

Plus, really, I just don't need the drama.

Okay, Really, Just Drama in General

Over the last few years, I've skirted the edges of a few semi-toxic or fully toxic situations in real life, and I've narrowly avoided getting myself into positions where I'd have to either take sides or make a dramatic exit. Small towns breed drama like swamps breed mosquitos.

It's impossible to completely avoid drama when dealing with people, but my tolerance for it all has been entirely exhausted. If I smell even a whiff of drama, I'm done. I dealt with it growing up in a small town, I dealt with it in a couple of offices where I worked, I dealt with it as a scout leader, and I'm over it. Show up ready to gossip or pull me into anything even remotely dramatic, and watch me run the other way.

As much as I always loved Ouiser and Clairee, the Golden Girls, and Evelyn Couch (Kathy Bates' character in Fried Green Tomatoes), I never really understood why they were such curmudgeons.

Now I get it.

The kids are gone, and in my case, the grandkids are far away. The Man and I both move slower than we used to, and it seems like every time I see a health professional, something gets tested, removed, or medicated. Sure, we now have more disposable income than we ever had, but we're still committed to our jobs, our pets, and in The Man's case, several volunteer positions, so we can't indulge all of our wanderlust. But also, we're pretty tired, and staying home to rewatch The Office while we eat leftovers is rather appealing.

And again, the hormones did a full Thelma and Louise.

I might have one more big adventure left in me. Both Bilbo and Frodo were 50 when they left the shire, after all, and I don't have to recover gold from a dragon or carry the One Ring to Mordor.

But it's probably going to have to be an adventure that I do from the comfort of my office, because I'm rapidly becoming someone who shouldn't be left unattended among normal humans.

Speaking of having one more adventure, next week, I'll be sharing some thoughts about the Hero's Journey.

See you then.