Samers

One of the characteristics that many of our Uturn tenants past and present share is avoidance. Avoidance of people, relationships, obligations, duties, responsibilities, blame, shame, work, and the list could go on. You're all smart folks and you get the point.

This avoidance is frustrating at times. It's, pull out your hair and bang your head against the wall, maddening at times. I've uttered the phrase, “just help yourself!” more than a few times over the past 5 years. If only they would do the simple things, the easy things, the path could be smoother. Low lying fruit is your friend, just grab it. Getting paperwork filled out to extend Social Assistance Benefits, showing up for a meeting to get into a training program, calling the boss when you're legitimately sick, for the love of what's pure and good, HELP YOURSELVES!

Ok, park that that sentiment for a moment please and walk this way.

This week has been less than stellar for me. The past two mornings have been, uh, well I'm just going to say it, shitty. Please excuse my potty mouth.

Let's start with yesterday. I wake up, get ready, go to fill up my coffee mug for the drive to Brandon and as I peer out the kitchen window I see my front tire completely flat. Hmmmm, that's disappointing. I fill said tire and decide I can make it to Brandon. An important bit of information to receive is that I had 4 perfectly good tires on rims in the Hilux that were going to replace the four suspect tires currently on the truck. I had drove around with the tires in the Hilux for a number of days and I had the tires in my possession since the middle of February. When I was in Brandon I would get the tires switched over.  So with in your mind I'll continue.  I got as far as Austin and a strong pull to the right let me know that the tire was not going to make it to Brandon. No problem, I thought. I pulled into the Co-Op parking lot to change the tire and continue on only to find no jack in the truck. Excellent (by the way, that's not exactly what I said). After loading all the tires back into the truck that I unloaded in my vain pursuit of said jack I filled the tire up to return to MacGregor. This too was in vain as the tire gave up the ghost approximately 2 miles from the tire shop in MacGregor. After taking a quick look I decided that since the tire was a lost cause I would limp the Hilux to the shop. 2 miles doesn't sound like a long way, and it really isn't. But when you're beyond comprehension furious and you're feeling so embarrassed that your neglect has put you in this place, 2 miles is a very, very, very, loooooong drive. Thump, thump, thump-thump, thump-thump, thump, thump, thump-thump, thump-thump, thump, thump. 2 miles of 10 km/h of that. I finally get to the shop after my 2 miles of shame and walk back home where my foul frustration and embarrassment bubble over at my wife. A short, but very animated and intense tirade ensues with me taking the van to Brandon, brooding all the way. Now I'm frustrated and embarrassed about my neglect AND about how I treated my wife.  If only fill my mind.  

This morning I get dropped off at the tire shop to pick up the Hilux. As it warms up I am reminded that I need to put some fuel in before I head to Portage. The “low fuel” light has been staring at me for some time. As some of you know I use used cooking oil as an alternative fuel to diesel in my truck. This has somehow made me even more illogical than I usually am, believing that a low fuel warning is of no consequence. I start driving and before I'm halfway to the gas station (less than a mile) the truck starts slowing down, starved of fuel. It's like I could hear the that sound of a child sucking furiously on a straw in an empty chocolate milk glass; seeking, seeking, seeking without finding goodness. “Oh dear,” I thought (again, not verbatim). As I figured I had enough momentum to carry me to the bowsers I turned the truck off and glided towards the driveway. “I'm really going to make it”, I said out loud to myself, laughing. I was actually laughing at this point.  I then chose a side of the pumps which turned out to be my undoing because I realized, too late, that both diesel pumps on the one side had little plastic bags. I swear that on the bags someone had scrawled, “Wayne, you tool. You're screwed.” As I stopped I knew that the diesel hose on the other side couldn't reach. The truck was too heavy to push on my own and there was no one at the station that could help me. A phone call to a good friend for a push, some diesel in the tank and I was away. Luckily I could let my first client of the day know I was going to be 15 minutes late so little harm done. Don't tell that to my pride. He's licking his wounds from the last couple of mornings.

I am no different than any of the tenants in Uturn, past or present. I am an avoider. I won't get into the why of it all, but I am. I put things off that don't need putting off, that would take literally minutes sometimes to do. I don't fill up my fuel tank when it's clear that I will need fuel sometime again in my lifetime, but I put it off. I put off maintenance and spending money on things that are unavoidable. I put off making simple phone calls that have little consequence to me. 

I. Put. Off.  Some times I wonder if I have a chance of making it through life without dying because I just won't bother getting to it.

So I have a renewed appreciation for those I work with. In many respects I don't have a leg up on them or have it more “figured out”. My margin for error is greater than theirs and perhaps my avoidance isn't as extreme or as frequent but I can easily see it from here if that's indeed the case.  

The bottom line is I'm a fortunate soul that has had enough framework around me to support my avoiding nature.  My friends in Uturn haven't benefited from similar framework.  It's always more complicated than that, but that's one of the many parts. 

So I pledge to grab the low lying fruit.  It's often about my height anyway.  That makes the week look better already...