An imaginary conversation about acupuncture

Earlier today I was having a conversation with you in my head.

About what?


I thought you didn’t believe in acupuncture.

I don’t.

Well, we’ve already had this conversation, haven’t we?

I know! That’s why I wasn’t sure why I had to have it in my head. It already happened in real life.

What made you think about acupuncture in the first place?

Having all those needles in my legs.

You’re having acupuncture? Which you don’t believe in?

Well, nothing else is working.

What are you having it for?

Oh, it doesn’t matter. This conversation is a lot like the one I imagined.

Is that a good thing?

I guess so. It’s a conversation.

So, in order to have a conversation with me first you have to imagine one? Is that usual?

We don’t have many conversations. Maybe I just needed to practice. Actually it was very good practice for mindfulness. I kept having to tell myself to stop and be present.

That must have sucked.

You know how conflicted I am about mindfulness. And being present.

Aren’t you conflicted about pretty much everything?

Maybe next time we should try having a fresh conversation. Consider possible topics and let me know.

But then what will you not think about while being mindful during acupuncture?

Politics or something. It’s actually very relaxing.


No. Acupuncture. Or really the part where I sit in a recliner doing nothing and practice not thinking. If I had a recliner I could do that at home for free.

Let me know how that works for you.

On being a mean human

The other day I looked myself right in the eyes in the mirror and thought “stop being such a moron.”

It was, as it always is, work related. In my personal life, I generally don’t think I am stupid. Well, there was that long interlude of ..never mind that. At work I think I’m stupid quite frequently. In this case, my crime was that I didn’t immediately know the answer to several questions which folks ask me via email.

There are reasons for feeling dumb at work. Partly because I support multiple complex applications without much in the way of training. Things are in a continual state of change, the stakes are high, and it can be hard to be as much of an expert as I want to be in all of the things I am expected to be an expert in. No one knows everything, but for some reason at work I think I should.

But that isn’t really the problem. It’s the excuse for the problem.

The problem is why I think it’s OK to think of myself as stupid, or constantly tell myself that I am.

If I thought a friend was making decisions that were unwise, I would never tell them they’re an idiot. It would be mean, and they’d immediately stop listening to anything else I might have to say. Are my friends always perfect? No. Sometimes they do things that aren’t necessarily good decisions. And sometimes I feel like I need to point it out.

But that decision would never start with “ boy are you an idiot!” It might start with “this thing you are doing is dangerous, and I’m worried” or “this thing is making me feel a certain way.”

So why do I, why do WE (we all do it) treat ourselves so much more unkindly than we would ever treat our friends?

That, my friends is why we have counseling and friends who tell us to not be so hard on ourselves. I’ve made so many strides in my personal life, but work is the one area I still need to get over myself in.

Work on work self in progress.

Friend talk

It is not one of the secrets of the universe that I am wildly blessed in the friend department. Friends, you know who you are. This post is particularly dedicated to my core friend group. The ones in the group text chat. My friend brothers and sister. The ones I say good morning to in the morning, and whine to when work is a pain.

The group text has a bad reputation, but most people don’t have a group text chat with *my* friends. The ones who are the best people in the whole entire universe.

Typically it starts before I even wake up with a gif from everyone’s favorite recycling raccoon. Then I have coffee in bed and we chat for a few minutes before the rest of us go to work. If anyone is off work, they gloat a little. Sometimes we hate on the retired guy. A little. Envy isn’t pretty.

We do what friends do. Cheer each other up. Talk smack about bad exes. Say cheers when we’re having a cocktail. Tell each other not to be dumbasses when one of us needs to hear it.

These people not only get me through every single work day, but they get me through pandemics, heartbreak, hangovers, bad attitudes and are one of the main reasons for all of the really fun times. They send pictures of grandkids, golfing, alley art and cocktail glasses. They are smart and funny. Incomparably good looking and wise. They make my life better every day by just being part of it.

Am I grateful to know them? Oh, yeah.

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