I subscribe to Mindful, and curiously clicked when a post came up this week promising to help me tell the difference between a bad day and burnout.  (Though, before I clicked, I sang to myself, “Maybe she’s born with it.  Maybe it’s Maybelline.”  Because that’s what I always sing to myself when articles present me with two possibilities.)

I walked away not knowing if it’s a bad day or burnout because I am always a pessimist.  That’s my default outlook.  And it didn’t give me enough to go on to distinguish regular tired from burnout tired.  Still, it jogged the question in my brain; what am I feeling right now?

I am going through a hard streak.  During a hard streak, everything just feels hard.  I feel like I’m waiting on too many things and no one is getting back to me.  My insecurity is high and my output is low.  My imposter syndrome is berating me even when all I’m doing is pulling together a peanut butter and jam sandwich.  (“You think you’re a good sandwich maker?  Everyone can tell your sandwiches are sub-par.  You’re not fooling anyone.”)

When I’m in a hard streak, I rationally know that hard streaks are followed (at some point) by easy streaks where everything slips easily into place.  Where I get a dozen affirmative answers all at once and good surprises fall into my lap.  I get my work done early and have a relaxing reading day.  There are meals at the ready in the freezer.  My to do list checkboxes are checked.

Or they’re followed by neutral streaks that feel like easy streaks in comparison to the hard streaks.  Where every day pretty much meets expectations.  And while nothing particularly exciting is happening, I know what I need to do when I wake up every morning, and I accomplish it by the time I go to bed.  And I count that as a good day.  Those times are not as fun as the easy streaks where life keeps giving me green lights, but I’m okay with neutral.

I guess I’m okay with anything other than a hard streak.

This week, I needed to run errands.  I didn’t want to run errands because I’m cognizant that I’m currently in a hard streak, which means even errands end up being difficult.  And these did not disappoint.  A task that should have taken 15 minutes was dragged out over two hours due to malfunctioning equipment and human error.  I ran into the pet store, and the pet store was not only out of bedding but would not be getting any in for a week.  I ran into the grocery store and they were out of the soup I needed for dinner.  The Wolvog offered to pick me up something at Starbucks as a treat, but I told him it was too risky.  During a hard streak, it was likely that I would spill the drink on myself vs. get it into my mouth.  He nodded and ordered a hot chocolate for himself without comment.

The problem with hard streaks is that you need to press through them.  You can’t hit pause and wait for them to be over or the work will pile up and you’ll never be on the other side of the streak.  So you plug away and peek up at the figurative traffic lights of life, hoping they’ll change to green.

It was a throwaway line in an Anthony Horowitz book, but I jumped onto Google to see if it was a real thing.  Do people really host Death Cafes?

Yes, they do.

The idea is that you get together with other people for a social event where you discuss your thoughts on death, wishes for your remains, your fears.  There is a format, recommended questions, and always cake.  (The cake thing came up in every piece of literature I found about Death Cafes.  Apparently cake is part of the process.)  The goal is to treat the end of life in the same way we treat the beginning of life, with great thought given to the process instead of sticking our heads in the sand.

It made me think about a part in Tig Notaro’s book I’m Just a Person.  Her mother is dying, and her friend Maxine comes to sit with Tig in the hospital.  She writes on page 103.

A year later, Maxine would reveal that she had wanted to take a photo of my mother that day, because she felt like even that moment was a part of my mother’s story, and she wanted me to have a picture of it because every moment of my mother’s life was important. And I would have loved to have that photo, but I know my mother wouldn’t have wanted a picture of herself taken when she was in that condition — no matter how good her skin looked.

A long time ago, people only took pictures after death because photographs were so expensive, so certainly, there was precedence.  Why do we take so many photos at a birth, but we don’t take any photos to mark a death, another moment in a life?

I dread specific deaths, and admit that I don’t like to think too deeply about people I love not being here anymore.  But I do think it’s important to think and speak hypothetically about death.  To treat it as part of a life in the same way that we talk about other milestones.

I scanned the offerings in my area on the Death Cafe site, and there were a few popping up in the next few weeks.  But I felt reluctant to go talk about this with strangers.  With friends and family, absolutely.  But I’m not great about speaking to strangers about books I like or menus at restaurants.  It felt like a big jump to go into a room of strangers and talk about what I want to have happen after death while eating cake.

We (you and I) talk a lot about creating and sustaining life when we talk about family building.  But what do you think of this set-up?  Would you feel comfortable participating in a discussion about another stage of life?

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

*******

Is this a post about Marie Kondo and books? Um… sort of.

I was trying to understand her concept of sparking joy. Watching the video immediately brought certain books to mind.  The Magicians trilogy is a joy sparker.  All of my copies of The Phantom Tollbooth?  Each and every one fill me with joy.  Tolkien, joy.  Lewis, joy.  My Crazy Rich Asians books, joy joy joy.

But should reading always be joyful?  I don’t feel joy at all when I pick up Primo Levi’s Survival in Auschwitz but wasn’t it important to read it and important to keep it?  Fine, we can equate gratitude (for Levi writing the book) with joy and it remains on the bookshelf, but there are so many others that don’t fill me with any emotion, and I would still never give them away.  They represent a moment in time or a story I may want to return to in the future or simply a good receptacle of knowledge.  My reading isn’t always joyful or even enjoyable; there is plenty I read because I think there is a good reason to read it.  Like the math book I’m reading right now; zero joy, 100% still think I should read it.

This isn’t commentary on Kondo’s method — I’m sure there is some nuanced loophole that allows you to keep as many books as you please.  It’s more the thought over whether reading should always be enjoyable.  Should we be aiming for pleasure or aiming for a different target?

*******

Are you also doing #MicroblogMondays? Add your link below. The list will be open until Tuesday morning. Link to the post itself, not your blog URL. (Don’t know what that means? Please read the three rules on this post to understand the difference between a permalink to a post and a blog’s main URL.) Only personal blogs can be added to the list. I will remove any posts that are connected to businesses or are sponsored post.

Two posts about infertility that I saved to read on the weekend, hence why I didn’t slip them into the Friday Roundup.

The first was on Slate and asks why we don’t have better workplace policies around fertility treatments when infertility is “as common as breast cancer and more common than Type 2 diabetes.”  Why we have tons of debate about “whether employers have the right to limit women’s access to contraception through their health plans,” yet little debate about whether employers should cover treatments in the same health plan.

Moreover, as the article points out:

Since these treatments fall, in terms of official workplace policy, at the intersection between medical treatment, disability, and pregnancy, companies are often caught flat-footed, with many lacking precedent and clear policies—leaving managers and HR staffers to make their own judgments.

In other words, there is more of a chance that employers will get this wrong, but there’s little incentive to get it right because the burden falls on the employee.  Career + pregnancy/parenthood is already a thorny issue; and this is the worst of all worlds: announcing a possible pregnancy before there is any pregnancy to announce.  The article is a good look about all the issues surrounding infertility and the workplace.

The second was on Geekmom, and it’s why they decided to publicly speak about their miscarriage on social media.  It wasn’t only to gather support or let other people know that they’re not alone.  There’s a benefit to posting your difficult news on Facebook: “We could take our time to put our message together once and not have to rehash it out over and over again when we just didn’t have the energy to be that emotionally vulnerable in front of everyone yet.”  It changed her relationships with people she already knew, drawing her closer to the ones who could support her through the aftermath.

The first article points out all the reasons you should play your infertility cards close to your chest.  The second article points out all the reasons why you should place those cards on the table.

I remembered to watch Rent!  We treated it like a three-hour sing along, which was probably annoying for the ChickieNob, though she didn’t say anything.  Rent is sort of like pizza; even bad Rent is still better than no Rent.  And this wasn’t bad Rent.  It was totally enjoyable with solid performances.  A night well spent.

But it kicked off trying to recapture how it felt to see the show in the 90s.  So first we tried to show the ChickieNob the film.  I didn’t realize (1) how many songs they skipped and (2) how much they spoke instead of sang.  But at least she got to see the original actors that we saw on stage.  Next, we’re moving on to Rent Live in 2008.  They filmed the stage version with that cast, so it’s the actual play without changes and the audience is behaving like an audience.  I was a little thrown off by the audience cheering during the Fox performance as well as the actors singing to the audience rather than each other.  So I’m hopeful about this one.

What did you think of last week’s Rent event?

*******

Stop procrastinating.  Go make your backups.  Don’t have regrets.

Seriously.  Stop what you’re doing for a moment.  It will take you fifteen minutes, tops.  But you will have peace of mind for days and days.  It’s the gift to yourself that keeps on giving.

As always, add any new thoughts to the Friday Backup post and peruse new comments in order to find out about methods, plug-ins, and devices that help you quickly back up your data and accounts.

*******

And now the blogs…

But first, second helpings of the posts that appeared in the open comment thread last week.  In order to read the description before clicking over, please return to the open thread:

• “The First Follow Up” (R. Sativus)

Okay, now my choices this week.

I’m kicking things off with two non-IF posts because they’re both so good.  The first is Her Royal Highness (yes, the ChickieNob) warning about believing the faux royal feud.  I love this because she came downstairs to ask if she could read something to me before she posted, and it contained this nugget: “These are real people who you keep spreading rumors about.”  We often forget that as we scroll through social media; that what is written for our entertainment comes at another person’s expense.  So… go ChickieNob!

The other is The Skinny Black Girl writing about the primaries.  Again, a very smart way of seeing the world: “I’m listening. Because that’s what primaries are about. Have questions. Hold leaders accountable for their records. That’s part of a healthy, engaged democracy. But also: hear them out. That’s the point. To meet and learn the candidates.”  Skinny Black Girl for President because she’s literally that smart.  Go read the whole post.

The Road Less Travelled has a post about discovering the next selection at book club: The Mothers.  She explains, “I’m trying to tell myself that this is part of the reason why I’m joining a book club, to be exposed to books & authors I might not otherwise look at. Who knows, I might wind up enjoying it. But seriously — the next read just happens to be a book called The Mothers?? What are the odds, right? Just one more reminder of what I am not.”  Yes, book clubs push you onto new reading paths, but this is the flip side of that; when it leads you somewhere you don’t want to go.

Lastly, Res Cogitatae captures what love really is.  It’s not the big romantic gestures.  It’s not the wedding or the anniversary celebrations.  It’s 5:45 am in the snow.  Yes, I’m going to make you read the post to get the story.

The roundup to the Roundup: All Rent is good Rent.  Your weekly backup nudge.  And lots of great posts to read.  So what did you find this week?  Please use a permalink to the blog post (written between January 25th and February 1st) and not the blog’s main url. Not understanding why I’m asking you what you found this week?  Read the original open thread post here.