No surprises here; losing a loved one is emotionally overwhelming. Writing just a few sentences about it means you have to once again come to terms with their mortality. For some, it's a good way to embrace their memory but as for myself I've never found it therapeutic. In fact, I remember returning to work fairly quickly when my dad passed away some years ago. It was a great distraction and my own way of paying tribute to his work ethic. To me, it meant more to exemplify the man he was since I felt few words would do him justice.
Having lost a great friend recently I'm back to realizing how many things seems so trivial and insignificant in comparison. I also realized how hard it is to stop complaining about the little things because it's human nature.
I was having a conversation with somebody at work. The usual stuff was discussed: making revenue, attaching profitably, supporting growth plans, reading company news, planning vendor trainings, dealing with customer issues. Then all of a sudden I just stopped talking. All these numbers floating through the air felt so trivial. That was the day the news had broke and it just seemed inappropriate to put any ounce of caring into some floating number.
Right now, every little complaint feels so out of place. Traffic, poor cell phone reception, that douche bag writing a check and holding up the line. At some point you have to force yourself to remember that things could be worse.
With that said, this blog wouldn't be in existence if it weren't for a lot of the little things we have problems with. I know and respect the fact that things could be worse, but there has to be some room for a little comic relief in realizing the audacity of our trivial complaints. Which brings me to my main (stupid/irreverent) point: The diaper aisle is a confusing and offensive nightmare.
The Mrs. and I went to Target recently to buy baby clothing for our friend and little did we know how clueless we were. Mistake number one was not knowing that diapers are sized too specifically to be given as a gift, especially if you don't know the weight of the baby involved. If age ain't nothing but a number then why can't Huggies put it on the label? 1 month, 2 month, 3 month, etc;. Instead, I see the number "3" and think it's for three-year olds. Mistake number two was assuming that there was only one kind of diaper. Diapers with better absorbency, diapers with stretchier waistbands and stronger fastening adhesives. I'm literally offended by designer diapers that replicate the look of camouflage or denim. Really? What purpose do they serve if in seconds they go from being a fashion statement to a manure reservoir. It makes no sense. By the way, have you seen diaper prices lately? How the hell do they get away with charging so much for disposable underwear? I'm thinking about buying some Proctor & Gamble stock to get in on this diaper gravy train.
There you have it folks. Stay sane and see you next time.