old advice made new

Remember bulletin boards in elementary school? Before those teacher supply stores sold all the specialty borders and letters? Before chalkboard paint was a thing?

I saw a hand-lettered board just the other day. The poorly stapled message would have benefitted from a level. It annoyed me, possibly because it was shoddy work, but more likely because I was already annoyed by someone on Twitter.

True story. I was annoyed by a stranger on Twitter.

Unfollow you might say. Block. Well, yes. That’s an option. But it got me thinking about this person who is, quite possibly, a chronically unhappy individual and is constantly posting rounds of negativity, whining, and complaints. It’s a sad cycle of unhappiness, followed by complaints of unhappiness, which can’t possibly lift anyone’s spirit, so back again to a renewed round of unhappiness.

Unfortunately, it affected me.

I got to thinking, how often do I post something negative on Twitter because it is a convenient sounding board and forget someone is going to read it and perhaps have a reaction to it?

Do I really want to be that person spewing the garbage all the time? So I decided to make my own bulletin board here, reminiscent of the kinds I saw in the hallways at school:

T.H.I.N.K. Before You Tweet

T — is your comment truthful?

H — is it helpful?

I — does it inspire?

N — is it noteworthy?

K — is it kind?

anti-social must be my temperament

I am at the oral surgeon — Christy is having her wisdom teeth removed. Why didn’t the dentist just pull ’em out? Yeah, well, this isn’t about that adventure; it’s about the waiting room.

There are 12 seats here. I know because I counted them. Twice. For emphasis.

I am annoyed because there is all this space everywhere and no one here except me, and the woman who has chosen to sit right beside me. Yes. She is sucking up the air in my personal space bubble. And it is choking me. That’s a heckuva statement to make coming from a person that generally doesn’t have personal space issues. [full disclosure: If I like you, then I don’t have personal space issues. If I don’t like you, sharing an armrest when it isn’t necessary is not going to endear you to me].

ANYWAY, I am annoyed. Did I say that already? It bears repetition. I am annoyed.

And then I had a moment of surprising charity and thought maybe she was there alone. So I smiled at her.

She stared me down and went back to her 2009 Good Housekeeping.

Really?

it’s that time of year…

This is about the point in the commercial insanity of the season when I turn into the Grinch. It is inevitable, but there it is.

I begin to say “No” to stupid crap I really don’t want to do. The absolute joy in that statement frees me. “No” to generic holiday parties where I don’t particularly want to share any additional time with people I wouldn’t socialize with in June. “No” to ringing bells for the Salvation Army at the mall. “No” to playing Christmas music 24/7.

Don’t worry, I’ll soften up. My heart will grow three sizes sometime after next week.

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