A Fear to Laugh At

Those of you who have followed this blog since it’s inception, know that I often write about medical appointments and/or health developments. Some of those posts were difficult to write. Living through those events was, at times, quite frightening. Today, though, I’d like to share a light-hearted fear—something that can be laughed at.

Some pertinent background information:

  • I am not a gamer, but my fiancé is. It’s through his interest in gaming that I was introduced to Rust.
  • Rust is an online, multi-player video game. It is set in a post-apocalyptic world, in which survival is neither easy nor guaranteed. In Rust, players must scavenge for food, weapons, and clothing. Players make their own outfits from the various materials that they find (i.e. wooden barrels, metal buckets). Occasionally, players discover hazmat suits—which are helpful in high-radiation zones. It is the end of the world, after all.

So, what does any of this have to do with me? It has come to my attention that every time I carry a letter out to the mailbox—in the wee hours of the morning—I am dressed like a character from Rust. My outfit does not adhere to any fashion standards…it’s just a quick ensemble, pieced together to survive the cold.

I don’t bother getting properly dressed to put mail in the mailbox. Instead, I throw my thick, winter coat on, over my pajamas:

winter coat

My coat is respectable enough, but the pajama pants that I wear with it, vary from silky black material, to Christmas-themed, to gray with pink, dark gray, and white polka-dots.

I wear snow boots.

boots

This ensemble is topped off with a Star Wars hat:

star wars hat

Every time I open that front door, I pray for three things:

  • Dear God, please keep Alderaan (our cat) upstairs where he is safe. Dear God, you know my heart will shatter if he sneaks outside and becomes a road pancake.
  • Dear God, please do not let me fall.
  • Dear God, please don’t let anyone take a picture of me.

The road we live on is well-traveled, and I am afraid that one of these days, a commuter is going to snap a picture of me with their cellphone. I’m dressed so ridiculously in the morning, that I feel as though the picture would go viral—especially if it’s marketed creatively:

Woman believes she lives in Rust.

Woman dressed to scavenge, bust geodes, and build her base.

 Woman in Rust wears a surgical mask—it’s the end of the world!

Clearly, my marketing skills are a bit rusty. Pun intended.

I’m not actually afraid of having my picture taken; in fact, I find this “fear” to be rather amusing. It is so insignificant compared to other fears that have plagued me in the past! And, sometimes, it just feels good to laugh at the workings of my own imagination.

Thank you, Dear Readers, for visiting Of Perras & Pieridae today. I hope the description of my morning, Rust-like, attire makes you smile.

 

With Love and Gratitude,

Laura

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When Technology Takes Over

Thursday night, we did not have internet access.

About an hour later, I lost cell service.

Normally, I would not describe myself as someone addicted to technology. Just a few hours without the internet, however, proved that I am very much addicted to it. I became bored. Boredom breeds anxiety. I soon found myself thinking, “what if someone breaks in? I don’t have a working phone. I don’t know the neighbors. How am I going to get help?”

True, I should have kept my over-anxious, imaginative mind busy by reading or creating art. Instead, I chose not to. I think technology has, in some ways, made me lazy.

It’s so much easier to scroll through social media sites or use my contact list to message a friend or family member (there are only two phone numbers that I actually know; my own and my parents’). Thanks to my contact list, programmed into my phone, my brain doesn’t have to remember phone numbers.

When I want to use my phone, the slight tremor in my hand suddenly doesn’t matter. After all, I just have to press on an app button. That tremor does matter, however, when I pick up a paintbrush or a camera.

And reading? Well, I’d have to unpack a book in order to do that (because, yes, we’re still living out of boxes here).

A lot of excuses, right? I know. It’s quite embarrassing. Technology addiction, I think, goes beyond our smartphones. It enables sloth.

Think about cooking: would you rather use the microwave or the oven?

Cleaning: handwash the dishes or stuff as many as you can into the dishwasher?

How about spelling? Without Spellcheck, I can assure you that there would be many, many mistakes in this post. I blame chemo brain (also known as ‘chemo fog’) for that. The sensation of having a head filled with cumulus clouds doesn’t lift immediately when the chemotherapy stops.

There are, of course, advantages to having technology in our lives. For instance, can you imagine hand-washing every piece of clothing you wear? Technology, medical research, and Divine intervention have saved my life at least a dozen times. I believe, though, that while technology can accomplish great things, and make our everyday lives easier, we need to do as our computers occasionally do—restart.

Restart by putting the smartphone away for a couple of hours each day.

Restart by actually cooking our meals instead of radiating them.

Restart by memorizing phone numbers and the correct spelling of words. I mean, come on, imagine a writer that can’t spell….

As always, Dear Readers, thank you for your prayers, light and love. Your encouragement has given me the strength to continue writing—both on this blog and in my manuscripts-in-progress. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

 

With Love,

Laura