reducerenewrecycle

While not dyslexic, I often interpose numbers. Today, I misdialed a number and ended up speaking to this exceptional example of manners:

man: hello?
me: Hi! Is Shawnie available?

[long pause]

me: Hello?
man: You stupid little fucker. If you ever call this number again, I’m going to beat the fuck out of you.
me: Okay. Is this the number for Shawnie or not?

[long pause]

me: Because if it’s not, I’m sorry for calling, but if –
man: No man!

Immediately tempted to post his phone number to every text and solicitation call out there, it reminded me of the best prank.  My oldest friend – meaning our moms went to high school together and then we grew up together – played a prank on her husband that was glorious.

She’s much more creative than this prankster. Her husband received anonymous texts like Did you know that cat fashion is a $1.2m industry? MeeWOW!

I laughed so hard I cried when she was telling this story. I’m really tempted to enact a similar nuisance to the man who so rudely answered the phone earlier.

But, alas, I’m better than that and this type of genius is best used on someone who deserves it.

However, I not saying I didn’t sign him up to receive calls about a Communications degree from the rumored relentless sales team at the the University of Phoenix.

One of TB and my mutual friends said to him the other day, “I’m really impressed at how patient xxxx has been with [your unemployment]. I don’t think my wife would have been so nice.”

I know TB was quietly thanking me when he passed this along.  Unfortunately for him, it caused me to look at this from another angle.

TB and Lanky have been friends since high school. Every job TB is handed, he somehow gets Lanky involved.  TB’s brother had a client, Money-Bags, who wanted to start a company. TB and Money-Bags were introduced and RS was born.  Soon enough, Lanky was folded in. TB and Lanky paid themselves handsomely. They didn’t develop a business plan or a budget and neither of them could sell water to the parched.  So, one month before TB and I were married, Money-Bag’s $100,000 dried up.

Lady Lanky was pissed and it only got worse as time marched on and Lanky and TB pointed the finger at each other and Money-Bags and everyone else for the failure of RS. Lady Lanky had worked hard through grad school to become a speech therapist and now had to carry the financial load in her marriage.

TB and I have always been 50/50.  Last week, I was cleaning the basement (as he played video games and napped – but that’s a whole different story) and stumbled upon his credit card statement.  He owes $5,400. He long ago took the steep penalty and cashed out his only 401k.  He now works 30 hours a week stocking shelves on the weekends and uses his inherited monthly oil royalties to pay his half of the bills.

I’ve surprised myself in that I haven’t reacted like Lady Lanky.  In fact, with the exception of a few eruptions, I haven’t reacted at all – at least that I’ve recognized.

But I think it’s starting to boil up. TB has been unemployed for almost two years.  There has to be an endpoint, but I can’t see the light behind me or the light ahead and I’m really restless.

This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends.
Not with a bang, but with…Congress.

This partial T.S. Eliot excerpt (and fav Cards Against Humanity card) comes to mind after today’s email from my congressman’s assistant.

…it’s really tough to do legislation on this issue.  However, are you aware that there has been funding through SAMHSA for programming to try and reduce the stigma of mental health?  Perhaps you want to look into what that funding has been able to do and let me know whether you think that’s effective or whether possible changes might be made?

More importantly, are you aware of the initiative Makeitok.org? They are going to hold some pretty big events this fall-there are already ads up for them.

Best,
Liz

Here’s what I read:

It took me 94 days to make one phone call to NAMI and I only did that because you keep bugging me. Why don’t you do more research to keep yourself busy so I can avoid telling you ‘no’ since I want you to vote for my boss next time. 

For eff’ sake. I just want to replace the phrase MENTAL DEFECTIVES with a more humane word. I’m not trying to change what the law enacts. I just want to change a word. Why is this hard??

Well, since my very own congressman is a dead end, I’m really glad my friend’s mom works for Congressman C.  My friend’s sister has Bipolar Disorder and no doubt it raised her mom’s hackles at the idea of the federal law calling her kid mentally defective.

While, it may have been altruistic to assume that one of 18 my elected officials would have bitten at my shiny March 25 letter, I had to try.

Next time I’ll save myself the 94 days and postage.

Today, a staff member for the state House of Representatives popped into my office (she’s also on the Board of Directors at work) and I asked to bend her ear about LOL Congress.

She suggested reaching out to my state senator to ask him to encourage my congressman to do something about ‘mental defectives.’

By the end of the conversation, she was on her way back to the Capitol to deliver the LOL Congress letter to a friend of hers in mental health in Representative W‘s district.

T minus fifteen days before Round Two of LOL Congress.  Learning that it’s all about who you know when it comes to getting things done that are outside of your control has been vital to my professional success. My guess is that it will be vital to the success of this campaign as well.

So Round Two will be all about the six degrees of separation and the twelve people I know who can help me reach the people who can get this done.