Pat to Control, Come in Control....

22, 078 Steps (lots of walking aimlessly around New York)

There is my job and my 401K and my health benefits and my apartment and my gym and my Monday night band practice and a book to read. Ahhhh. Order. My life is in control. If each of these things were on a plate, I would like to look up and see them all spinning. I know then I have control.

And if Control is my mistress then I am a sorry sod for certain. I am afraid it is.

See, I am NOT working. I have no job, 401K, etc. I have very little to control at the moment and THIS drives me crazy! When someone is not working he feels out of control at best and I find I tend to want to UBER control what I do have: the subway, the gym, my book, my computer, etc. If any of these smaller items goes out of whack or order I lose it!

Today I went to the CHASE Bank to deposit a measly check. ( I want to control the size of this check.) I have hated when I left B of A for CHASE because CHASE requires you to fill out a deposit slip with an account number and all other info PLUS an envelope with your name, which type of account, account number, etc.

So while others are paying down their mortgages, I pass by 5 B of A's and finally happen upon a CHASE. NONE of the wee tables has deposit slips or envelopes! THAT IS IT!! I HAVE HAD IT. It took me long enough to find one of you and I have check smaller than most people spend at lunch and now this!?

Less sane people shoot up an office or jump off a bridge that still allows such things. Me, I just go into one of those horrible, self-important (big ticket item/indicator of lack of control) and huff and puff all over the branch looking for envelopes at kiosk. NOT A ONE! I am now audibly snorting. A thing I despise in others. A CHASE rep asks me if she can help. "You bet you can," I say. And she says "Great, what can I help you with?" in a polite tone usually reserved for customer service phone reps from India: "Hi I am Susan (from Delhi) and I want to prowide you with excellent, if frustrating, service today." I have to first give her the whole snitty, boring to everyone including her, history of how I was happier at B 0f A and how I wished I had not switched. (I am sure that one just got her right there.) and then I went off about the no envelopes. She started to speak, but like a man who just got out of solitary, I was not done. I interrupted and went on about how much I hated all the tree death and waste to time because of all the envelopes and deposit slips I had to fill out. "But you no longer have to do that,"says she. "All you have to do is sign your check and deposit in the machine." If this is the case, I am certainly a horse's ass and certainly unemployable.

This is what I wanted all along. This news. Someone to hold my hand and say softly "You are okay and you don't need to prove yourself to me with a deposit slip. Even if your thing is small. Your deposit, I mean."

If only she could take me to her bosom for a good cry, but my pride/control were bruised and I just had to say thank you and take my tail off the floor and put it between my bare legs which were not covered in working clothes like everyone else in that swank branch.

When I got back to the door I had first entered I saw this:



So, when one lacks control and wants TO control, one is way OUT of control and needs to just go sit in a park and meditate.