The One with the Voice Mails

You have six messages. Beep.

Three of those messages are hangups. One is a robocall from an elected official. Two are doctor appointment reminders–one from my son’s orthodontist and another from the sleep doctor.

I suspect it can’t be a fun job to call a few dozen people and leave these messages. I imagine it is a tedious but necessary task. Funny enough, the two voicemails could not have been more different, and it’s all about a positive attitude and a moment of kindness.

To compare, the first message was from Nicole from the orthodontist.

Hello. This message is for Andrew to remind you that you have an appointment with the orthodontist at 8 am in our Ambler office. Thank you. Click.

While it was professional, her monotone voice did not seem to recognize Andrew as a valued patient who has been going there for the last three years. She also left the message at warp speed. I had to replay the message twice to confirm the time and the location.

Then, Bonnie from the sleep clinic called. Her singsong voice was friendly, patient, and coming from someone who loves what she does every day for a living.

The message started fairly routine. Bonnie reminded me of my appointment and to bring my C-Pap machine chip if I have one (I do not–yet). She added that the garage I would typically use is closed for repairs, and I would need to valet park or go to one of the other lots. “And bring your parking ticket with you so we can validate it for free parking.

FREE PARKING! NICE!

But Bonnie didn’t stop there. She noticed I was a new patient and took the time to tell me exactly where to park complete with the street names and a landmark (across the street from the police station). She told me which building the office is in and spelled the name of the building. She advised me of the most convenient hospital entrance to use to find the office and to please come earlier than usual to fill out some paperwork.

Now, I’ve been going to this hospital for years. I delivered both of my children there. I’ve visited the emergency room a few times, as well as doctors’ offices. It is still quite the maze to me, and I’ve come to expect that when I go there, I will indeed get lost.

But I don’t have to worry about that now. Bonnie eased all of my concerns without my ever asking. Not only did she give me vital information, but her tone of voice struck me–as if I was a friend or a daughter–not a patient.

In this crazy world, it’s this sort of kindness that I crave. I’ve never been to a sleep clinic before, and I don’t know what to expect. However, I do know Bonnie will be there to welcome me.

The One With The Writer’s Block

Dear Writer’s Block,

It’s not you. It’s me. We’ve been down this road hundreds of times, and quite frankly, I’m sick of you. I’m so done.

It’s true at 9 pm on a Friday night that I don’t have a creative bone in my body–not even a whiff of an idea. I want to get in my pajamas, crawl under the covers and catch up on today’s news with Rachel Maddow than sit here in front of this blank computer screen. But, here I am, and I’m finally ready to stand up to you once and for all.

I know there are days when I can be a bit of a perfectionist. You know the drill. I do the dishes, fold the laundry, sort the mail, and wait for a solid idea to form in my brain. I can’t possibly sit down and write until I hit that eureka moment and the adrenaline pumping through my veins until the sweet release onto the keyboard.

Other times, I’m afraid. Fine, I admit it. I’m afraid what I have to say is silly or unimportant. I’m afraid people will find out I’m not a real writer or worse they will be offended at what I may want to say. Seriously though, I’m just a girl, sitting in front of a laptop, asking it to help me compose one beautiful blog post that will resonate with everyone who reads it.

But, I’m here to say it’s over. You and me. We are through. You are my easy way out. You know how to push my buttons and send me into a tailspin of self-doubt. I can’t do this anymore.

It’s time for me to be the writer I’ve always wanted to be–one that’s dedicated to her craft, dreams of becoming a published author, and fueled by passion and caffeine. Not one that throws around the oldest excuse in the book. I have a lot of things to say, and I’m going to say them. You are not going to get the best of me. My readers will get it instead. And when I’m finished, you will be a thing of the past.

I’m a better writer than that, and it’s time you see yourself out.

Goodbye, sir.

I said goodbye.

 

The One with the Yom Kippur Algorithm

It’s that time of year folks when Jews all of the world make the most stressful phone call of the year. The one to the caterer to order our Break the Fast trays.

A little background: Next week, we observe Yom Kippur, also known as the Day of Atonement, which is the holiest day on the Jewish calendar. It is a somber holiday, so we don’t wish each other a Happy Yom Kippur, but rather an easy fast. We attend services and adhere to a 25 hour fast. During this time, we ask for God’s forgiveness and pray to be inscribed in the Book of Life for another year. The purpose of the fast is to put aside our physical needs so that we can focus on our spiritual ones through prayer. At sundown, it is tradition to gather family and friends together to eat a dairy meal. This meal is known as Breaking the Fast.

I host the Break the Fast meal every year at my house. But before the main event, I need to order a tray of food. Placing this order requires a complicated High Holy Day algorithm.

First, I use logic to determine the number of people coming to my house. Then, subtract the number of people that don’t eat the fish. Add in what foods they will eat and make sure to include that in the order.

Next, perform a brief analysis of my options to determine where to order from? Is it from the place with the tray that serves 12 people but really gives enough for 15? Probably. Should I order for fewer people than the number I actually need so we get just the right amount of food? (By the way, these trays are not cheap.) Or should I throw caution to the wind and go a la carte? Either way, I take on the added risk that we will be eating regular lox and kippered salmon for the next week or so. (Not a bad thing if you like it, which I do).

Third, what kind of bagels do I want, and how does that correlate to what people like to eat? One year, I offered a random selection that included cinnamon raisin bagels. I learned that it just isn’t congruent with the lox and whitefish salad. Another year, I ordered a “nice mix” of bagels, which included a substantial remainder of poppyseed bagels. I won’t be making that mistake again.

And we aren’t done yet! What percentage of regular lox vs. nova lox should be included on the tray? I base this on the assumption of how many family members are watching their salt intake this year.

What variables should be included when it comes to the cheese tray? American, Slender American, Sweet Munchee, Lite Muenster or Swiss? At this point, I want ALL the cheeses because I’m exhausted, and I can’t make one more decision about this meal.

Once the algorithm is complete, I have to check my work to make sure I didn’t forget anything before producing my results. This is when I remember to order a loaf of black bread, a pound of turkey breast (for those who don’t eat fish), and the minimum amount of herring fillets in cream sauce that a small subset of people can’t live without.

Thankfully, my sister in law makes a plethora of delicious desserts, and others bring fruit trays, kugels, and blintzes to round out the meal.

Oy Vey! This algorithm is so much work, but I’m incredibly blessed to do it as part of our fall tradition.

Shana tova to those who celebrate. I wish you an easy fast, and may we all be written in the Book of Life.

 

 

 

 

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