In the supermarket near Boston where we shop, I’ve been noticing growing shortages of canned cat food. Not shortages of dry cat food or dog food, but empty shelves for Fancy Feast and non-fancy wet food, too.
I’ve been ordering our cat food through Chewy.com and there are some shortages there too, resulting in our Purina Pro Plan order for Joan being cancelled. I ordered other canned cat food yesterday, and that’s on the way.
Shortages are puzzling to me and I certainly wouldn’t want to contribute to panic buying in any way, but I was curious about other people’s experiences, so I posted this on Twitter yesterday:
Some people responded YES, others NO, and some shared they had heard the shortage was caused by a shortage of aluminum cans.
Because there is a raging snowstorm as I’m writing this, I’m assuming there are other shortages — of milk, bread, eggs, shovels, flashlights, etc. — in the markets here now.
I’ve got a funny feeling that my images today are about “funny,” “feelings,” or both.
I’ve got a funny feeling that if you click on that screen shot to get free or discounted pies, it’s not going to work. Here’s the link to do that if you have feelings about pies:
I’m assuming we all do, because there’s been such a vast reduction in hugging for TWO YEARS.
People need hugs to feel comforted and connected with others. Yesterday, in my therapy groups, I asked people to give themselves hugs during the mindfulness exercise. (If they didn’t feel comfortable hugging themselves, I suggested they give themselves mental hugs).
Several people spoke about how much they yearned to be in the same room together again. I hugged myself as I admitted that we had no idea of when that might be.
Do you see anyone who needs a hug in my images for today?
I’ll tell you one thing: I’m not hugging any squirrels today.
This is what I find on YouTube when I search for “who needs a hug.”
Now I REALLY need a hug.
I hope my gratitude, here and now, feels like a hug to you.
Because I can’t seem to break my habit of worrying about (1) possible catastrophes, (2) not responding quickly enough to everyone, and (3) inexplicably high numbers for my weight and my INR, I am telling myself (and anyone else who needs to hear it) to chillax.
If you don’t know what “chillax” means, chillax. Here’s a definition.
These days, I can dance to my favorite tune or chillax, but I can’t have friends over because of Omicron.
Yesterday, in a remote Coping and Healing therapy group, we helped each other chillax by consciously letting go of fears and accepting our own worth.
I recently committed to doing another remote Open Mic on Friday and doing a presentation about my groups in February, so I need to chillax about both of those. I have a tendency to get nervous about performances, even though I’ve done so many before, so (say it along with me, please) …
Chillax.
After I get up every precious morning, I chillax by creating this blog. Do any of my images for today help you chillax?
I don’t know what “World Quark Day” is, but I’m going to chillax about that. Also, I’ve been eating way too much popcorn lately, which might explain the weight gain, so instead of eating popcorn on National Popcorn Day, I’m going to chillax.
Joan chillaxes by fetching her favorite toy.
What helps you chillax?
Ending each daily blog post with gratitude helps me chillax, so thanks to everyone who is visiting here now, including YOU.
Twitter is one of my favorite wastes of time, so I asked this question last night:
Some replies pointed out that doing something you enjoy is never a waste of time, and I agree! I explained that I was thinking about this great song by Marshall Crenshaw, “You’re My Favorite Waste of Time.”
Another one of my favorite “wastes of time” these days is the TV show Ted Lasso.
When I saw my Primary Care Doctor recently, she told me she’s watched both seasons of Ted Lasso many times and how that’s been helping her get through the pandemic. I completely trust my doctor, so I’m taking that TV Rx and I’m loving it.
Hyper-vigilance is well know to me, both as a therapist and as a person diagnosed with PTSD (because of my hospital experiences when I was a child and living with a very rare heart condition for 68 years).
Because of the pandemic, global warming, racism, economic disparities, and many other complex and constant abuses to our psyches and our bodies, there are very few of us who are not hyper-vigilant these days.
Here is a definition of hyper-vigilance from healthline.com:
Yesterday, when I was at a hospital waiting for a bone scan, I tweeted this as I was trying to take deep breaths and slow down some racing thoughts:
Some people on Twitter responded with gratitude for the thought, others pointed out how hyper-vigilance is not a choice. I work on hyper-vigilance every day, and I understand.
Do you see hyper-vigilance in my other images for today?
I think our phones add to our hyper-vigilance, do you?
I want to be vigilant (and not hyper) in wishing a happy birthday to my first husband (and father of our son, Aaron), who reads this blog. Happy birthday, Leon Dave, and many more!
Because of my vigilance in sharing music I love in this blog, here’s one of my favorite Thomas Dolby tunes:
Thanks to all who are vigilant enough to get to the bottom of this “Hyper-vigilance” blog post, including YOU!
