The Cheese Grates It: Advice from the Kitchen

The world is a contentious place right now. I think my recent posts reflect a little too much ire. I don't believe in censoring myself in my writing, but I'm glad that a friend's thoughts helped me recognize that I was becoming a little too salty. Not salty as in my predilection for swearing. I always do that, and I don't apologize for it. No, I mean that I'm too angry and it's making me caustic.

There's a lot to be angry about. I never spoke much about politics on my blogs during any of the previous elections. Yeah, a "don't vote for M1%tt Romney and Paul Lyin'" might have cropped up here and there, but it didn't consume me in a raging grease fire the way my dislike for the Misogynist Mutant Cheeto has.

Living a life that's too fast paced and too full of to-do's also leads to a sense of dissatisfaction and bitterness. My fuse is short and that's not good. It's something I've been working on all of my life because I've always had the tendency to fly off the handle pretty quickly. Once I had a child, I realized I couldn't do that. It wasn't funny. There was no "isn't she cute when she's mad" about it. It was scary to my child, and I needed to stop it.

I am working way too much right now. In my line of work (home care), twelve hour shifts are common. I like twelve hour shifts. It should mean I work a three day week. I don't mind terribly working a four day week. It gives me a little extra on my paycheck, which I need, but still gives me time to try and relax and get things done.

I have been working five day (sixty hour) weeks for at least a month. Honestly, I've lost track. This is not going to let up any time soon. The main day nurse just quit the case. I'm the main night nurse. The secondary day nurse will rarely agree to work more than three days a week, and the secondary night nurse can't work more than two nights. The main day nurse was working three days and one night. I was working four nights, and the secondary night nurse was working her two. Now we're screwed.

I feel like I'm always going, going, going. I get really depressed if I don't write, so I keep writing, but lately a lot of what I'm doing is spewing bile. My life is too fast, too pressurized. A pressure cooker is a great kitchen tool. It isn't a great place for a soul.

I am not the best at balancing. In the kitchen, I have a tendency to either cook the side dish too soon and have to reheat it, or I wait too long and the main dish starts getting cold while the side dish finishes. I learned a trick to avoid this. I put the vegetables in a skillet with whatever seasoning I want them to have, and I keep the heat low. Then while the main dish (in this case, chicken breasts with olive oil and cracked pepper) is cooking for the approximately 45 minutes it will take for them to be done, the vegetables are slowly simmering. This way they won't be either undercooked or overcooked.

When it comes to my own life, I need to turn down the heat. Too many people are living like I do these days. It stunts one's spiritual growth and creativity. It isn't healthy at all.

However, I am not one to blame those of us who are under this kind of pressure. Too many spiritual practitioners act like "all you need to do is just slow down, meditate, visualize your goals, and everything will fall into place." Those of us who have bills to pay and mouths to feed know it isn't so easy to "just stop." 

I can't just stop, but I am working on finding ways to slow down. I am also going to try to cut back on the salt in my writing. A little salt is good, but too much makes the message unpalatable.

~The Cheese Hath Grated It~