46 - A New Year: Part Two

I know it is bad to be a pouty, finger-pointing, pass-the-buck buck-er but I blame Wayfair. I am at the computer, opening Word, ready to type a post on my recent PET scan when a Wayfair ad for drapes pops up, blocking the whole screen.

Let me say this: Being diagnosed with The Big C does tend to make a person pause, prioritize, initiate. Except in my case. Other than several notes-to-self to record Season 3 of “Emily in Paris” I would have to say…pretty much nada.  

I am 100% 76% sure that if I did have a Priority List, drapes would not be on it. Yet - though 58% 48% sure I will not buy a single panel - I find myself checking.

I also check the reviews. You know me! Proud to be an informed non-consumer!

This is why I blame Wayfair. If not for that pop-up, I would not have been slogging through drapes rather than updating my blog.

Some of you may object: NJB, is it fair to blame Wayfair for your poor blogging choices?

Absolutely! They spend zillions devising algorithms and cookies for this very purpose! Look at what they hit me with: Drapes! Some might say: Just a strip of cloth! No, siree! We are talkin’ length, fabric, weight, light filtration, AND header.

I could still be reading!

There is an upside: The inelegantly elegant one-star review I find while scrolling. No caps. No punctuation. Just a quick riff on a pair of drapes:

dreadful fabric had to return very schlumpy

I think: This is profound. The whole story in seven words.

And schlumpy! Even though I do not know exactly what it means, I can almost picture the curtains, feel the writer’s ire. The Free Dictionary gives this definition:

Schlump   also shlump  (shlŭmp)

n. Slang

1. A person who is neither neat nor stylish; a rumpled or dowdy person.

2. A person who is somewhat fat and unfit.

[Yiddish shlump; akin to German schlumpen, to hang loose, and English slump.]

schlump′y, shlump′y adj.

This is when it hits me. I have been in a Big C schlump. Not quite pulled together. Unmotivated. Unfit. Sure, it is understandable. A bad health diagnosis takes time to process. And a bit of head-in-the-sand can be self-protective.

But at some point it is important to move from pause to prioritize, then action. This is a new year. And I am in a battle.  

Yet other than eating lots of dark chocolates – for my neutrophils! - I am doing nothing. Not exercising. Not hydrating. (Although the Chemo Spa has “Stay Hydrated!” signs on every exit door.) Not researching. Not eating mindfully.

Do I want to be a couch potato? Or a warrior with really well-stockinged feet?

I WANT TO BE A WARRIOR!!!*

(*Just as soon as I finish watching the new Jack Ryan series and Emily in Paris, Season 3, that is.)

I have been a little harsh with Wayfair but I gotta confess: Even though schlumpy me is stuck in pause, I am quite certain the clever folks at Wayfair could produce a “NJB - Priority/Action Item List 2023” in, like, SECONDS! Sure, it might include more drapes than I have windows but – in fairness! – it would be a start.

Happy New Year, friends!

PS: No word yet from Hospital 2 about scheduling tests to pursue possible surgery. Dr H is following up. Hope to hear soon.