Calm the Fuck Down
Page 15
What was in your bag? Well, I want to make sure this whole Choose Your Own Adventure deal works for everyone, so let’s say you’re missing one or more of the following:
• An important article of clothing you are supposed to wear on this trip—such as your Spock ears for the Trekkie convention; a custom T-shirt for your BFF’s birthday bonanza (I SHOWED UP AT RASHIDA’S 40TH AND ALL I GOT WAS PERIMENOPAUSE); a tuxedo for a work trip awards ceremony; or your lucky bowling shoes for the Northeastern Regional League Championships.
• Your favorite pajamas.
• A difficult-to-replace specialty item.
• All of your charging cords and cables. Every single one.
• The framed photo of your cat that you always travel with. (What? I would be shocked if not a single reader relates to this example.)
• A really great sex toy.
How do you react?
Hey, don’t look at me. I don’t know your life. But for the sake of this complicated gimmick I’m about to embark on, let’s say your first instinct is to freak out. Pick whichever one of the Four Faces seems most likely to descend upon you in this time of extreme duress and shittiness, and then follow it on an illuminating adventure into calming the fuck down and dealing with it. (Or not, depending on which choices you make.)
Then, just to be thorough, pick another one and see it through.
Actually, you know what? Read ’em all. What the hell else do you have to do tonight?
Ready, set, FREAK OUT!
If you pick ANXIOUS, go here.
If you pick SAD, go here.
If you pick ANGRY, go here.
If you pick AVOIDANCE, go here.
You picked
For what it’s worth, I’m totally with you on this one. Although I do not know your life, I know my life—and if I’d lost every stitch of beachwear I’d brought with me to Bermuda for Spring Break ’00, plus the copy of The Odyssey I was supposed to be studying for my world lit final, PLUS the Advil bottle full of weed that I forgot I had in my toiletry kit, I would have been seriously anxious. My potential tan and GPA in jeopardy, and, if they did locate my bag, the threat of a Bermudian SWAT team banging down my hotel room door—and me without my “calming herbs”? Yikes.
Back to you.
I totally understand why you’re feeling anxious. But anxiety is not going to solve the Mystery of the Missing Luggage nor get your Spock ears and Magic Wand™ back in good working order. You need to calm the fuck down.
But how?
We went over this in part II. FOCUS, JIM!
Give anxiety the finger(s): Go here.
Get down with O.P.P. (Other People’s Problems): Go here.
Nah, I’m just going to panic. Go here.
You picked “Give anxiety the finger(s).”
As you’ll recall, this coping mechanism finds you doing something constructive with your hands to give your brain a rest. Such as:
If you’re standing at baggage claim being hypnotized into a panic attack by the rotations of an empty luggage carousel, you need to snap out of it. Why not literally? Try snapping your fingers a hundred times and when you’re done, it’s time to walk away.
Or, head to the nearest airport tchotchke shop and scope out their wares. If they sell stress balls—huzzah!—you’re in business. But if not, buy a container of dental floss. While in the taxi en route to your hotel, unspool the whole thing and then play that Cat’s Cradle game until your fingers bleed, minty fresh. There, now you have something different to worry about.
Finally, once you arrive at your hotel and it sinks in that your vibrator may never get out of Denver International—well, there are ways to lull yourself to sleep that don’t require batteries. All hands on deck.
Whew. Feeling a little calmer, all things considered? Good, good. Would you like to give that second coping mechanism a whirl as well, or just go straight to dealing with it?
You know what? I think I will try “Getting down with O.P.P. (Other People’s Problems).” Why the hell not? Lovely. Go here.
I’m ready to deal with it! Go here.
You elected to “Get down with O.P.P. (Other People’s Problems)”
You’re having a hard day, pookie. One way to distract from or make yourself feel better about your own problems is to focus on someone else’s.
Like the lady with the screaming toddler who was sitting a few rows ahead of you. I bet she wishes that human vuvuzela was hanging out in Denver International Lost & Found right about now. Then there’s the flight crew, who have the privilege of capping off an eight-hour shift by probing the crevices between every cushion on this two-hundred-seat airplane looking for crumbs, loose pretzels, and lost pacifiers. BONUS: If you’re getting a taxi to the TrekFest convention hotel, this is the one and only time you may want to engage the driver in conversation by asking “Hey, what’s the worst thing that happened to you this week? Tell me all about it!” In my experience with loquacious cabbies, your current predicament is likely to seem mild in comparison to tales of greedy landlords, student loan debt, stabby ex-wives, and “that time Eric Trump got a BJ in my backseat.”
Feeling a little better? Oh come on—admit it, you temporarily forgot about your lost luggage as you pictured that poor cabdriver catching sight of Eric’s O-face in the rearview mirror. That was all you needed—distraction with a side of schadenfreude. But if you want to go back and try giving anxiety the finger(s), feel free.
That was helpful, but I want to see what else you got. Go here.
I’m ready to deal with it! Go here.
Uh-oh, you decided to PANIC!
You’re hyperventilating so hard you can barely explain to the desk agent why it is TERRIBLY URGENT that Delta retrieves your suitcase AS SOON AS POSSIBLE because you will NEVER BE ABLE TO GET A NEW PAIR OF CUSTOM-FIT SPOCK EARS DELIVERED IN TIME TO EMCEE TOMORROW’S BATTLE OF THE BANDS: “THE SEARCH FOR ROCK.”
Friend, you are boldly going nowhere with this shit. Or as Spock himself might put it, “Your illogic and foolish emotions are a constant irritant.” Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to see what’s happening over on the Flipside?
YES, YES I WOULD LIKE TO TRY GIVING ANXIETY THE FINGER(S), PLEASE. Good choice. Go here.
I have erred. Please redirect me to “Getting down with O.P.P.” In retrospect, that seems much more prudent than the course I have thus far taken. Go here.
Fuck it. I’ve already wasted too much time. Take me straight to dealing with it. Go here. (But don’t say I didn’t warn you…)
Dealing with it after you’ve calmed the fuck down (from ANXIETY)
My, how well you’re holding up in this time of crisis! You’re a beacon of hope and light to us all. You recognized the creeping Freakout Face and you resisted. You returned your heart rate to normal and staved off a full-blown panic attack, so now you can focus on solving (or at least mitigating) your problem in time to enjoy the rest of your trip. You’ve been looking forward to TrekFest for an entire year—now’s the time to be enterprising in your efforts to deal with this shit.
TAKE STOCK:
You already know what you’re missing. Now think about where you are and how easy/difficult it might be to shop for or order replacement gear, in whatever time you have to get that done. Ruminate, too, on your other resources. How much energy do you really want to expend running around an unfamiliar city all night when it’s possible your bags will arrive on the early flight into Kansas City tomorrow? And how likely are you to find Spock ears on short notice? Furthermore, if you already tested the limits of your Amex card on the Fest tickets, you may not have a lot of spare cash (or credit) to replace all your AWOL electronics in one go. Survey the damage, assess the recovery potential, and then make some game-time decisions. You got this.
WHAT’S YOUR REALISTIC IDEAL OUTCOME? PICK ONE:
RIO #1: Assuming your bags won’t show up of their own volition, you want to make as many inquiries as you can, then get a good night’s sleep and muster the wil
l to carry on in the morning. Go here.
RIO #2: The specialty items must be replaced ASAP; your whole trip is meaningless without them. Go here.
Dealing with it after you’ve calmed the fuck down (from SADNESS)
My, how well you’re holding up in this time of crisis! You’re a beacon of hope and light to us all. You recognized the creeping Freakout Face and you resisted. You dried your tears, practiced some emergency self-care, and now you can focus on dealing with this shit and solving (or at least mitigating) your problem in time to enjoy the rest of your trip.
TAKE STOCK:
You already know what you’re missing. Now think about where you are and how easy/difficult it might be to shop for or order replacement gear, in whatever time you have to get that done. Ruminate, too, on your other resources. How much energy do you really want to expend running around an unfamiliar town all night when it’s possible your bags will arrive on the early flight tomorrow? (And if they don’t, you’re going to need all the energy you have to deal with Rashida when she finds out you lost the custom birthday T-shirt AND her gift.)
Evaluate your gumption levels! And your cash reserves: if you already tested the limits of your Amex card on the plane tickets, you may not have a lot of spare cash (or credit) to replace all your AWOL electronics. Survey the damage, assess the recovery potential, and then make some game-time decisions. You got this.
WHAT’S YOUR REALISTIC IDEAL OUTCOME? PICK ONE:
RIO #1: Assuming your bags won’t show up of their own volition, you want to make as many inquiries as you can, then get a good night’s sleep and muster the will to carry on tomorrow. Go here.
RIO #2: The specialty items must be replaced ASAP; your whole trip is meaningless without them. Go here.
Dealing with it after you’ve calmed the fuck down (from ANGER)
My, how well you’re holding up in this time of crisis! You’re a beacon of hope and light to us all. You recognized the creeping Freakout Face and you resisted. You channeled your energy into more fruitful, peaceful pursuits, and Mexican Airport Syndrome failed to claim another inmate. Now you can focus on dealing with this shit and solving (or at least mitigating) your problem in time to enjoy the rest of your trip. Though I suppose “enjoy” might be a strong word for it; this is a work conference and the best part about it is going to be the unlimited shrimp cocktail at the awards ceremony.
TAKE STOCK:
You already know what you’re missing. Now think about where you are and how easy/difficult it might be to shop for or order replacement gear, in whatever time you have to get that done. Assuming you’ve landed in a city known to host conventions requiring formalwear, tuxedos probably aren’t tough to rent, but ruminate, too, on your other resources. How much energy do you really want to expend running around an unfamiliar town all night when it’s possible your bags will arrive on the early flight tomorrow? And if you already tested the limits of your corporate Amex this month, you probably shouldn’t be using it to replace all your AWOL electronics—unless you’re looking forward to a stern email from Helen in HR come Monday. Survey the damage, assess the recovery potential, and then make some game-time decisions. You got this.
WHAT’S YOUR REALISTIC IDEAL OUTCOME? PICK ONE:
RIO #1: Assuming your bags won’t show up of their own volition, you want to make as many inquiries as you can, then get a good night’s sleep and muster the will to carry on tomorrow. Go here.
RIO #2: The specialty items must be replaced ASAP; your whole trip is meaningless without them. Go here.
Dealing with it after you’ve calmed the fuck down (from OSTRICH MODE)
My, how well you’re holding up in this time of crisis! You’re a beacon of hope and light to us all. You recognized the creeping Freakout Face and you resisted. You cast off your cloak of avoidance and actually managed to make some headway. Perhaps all is not lost (where “all” equals “your luggage”). Now you can focus on dealing with this shit and solving—or at least mitigating—your problem in time to kick the crap out of Reverend Paul from Pittsburgh and his team, the Holy Rollers.
TAKE STOCK:
You already know what you’re missing. Now think about where you are and how easy/difficult it might be to shop for or order replacement gear, in whatever time you have to get that done. Ruminate, too, on your other resources. How much energy do you want to spend running around looking for a pair of KR Strikeforce size 11 Titans vs. holding in reserve for the tournament itself? And if you already tested the limits of your Amex card on three nights at the Econo Lodge, you may not have a lot of spare cash (or credit) to replace all your AWOL electronics and fancy shoes in one go. Survey the damage, assess the recovery potential, and then make some game-time decisions. You got this.
WHAT’S YOUR REALISTIC IDEAL OUTCOME? PICK ONE:
RIO #1: Assuming your bags won’t show up of their own volition, you want to make as many inquiries as you can, then get a good night’s sleep and muster the will to carry on tomorrow. Go here.
RIO #2: The specialty items must be replaced ASAP; your whole trip is meaningless without them. Go here.
Dealing with it when you are FREAKING THE FUCK OUT (with ANXIETY)
This is so much harder than it had to be. Not only have you started to panic, your brain is now cycling through worst-case scenarios like that girl next to you at Flywheel last Sunday who was obviously working out her dating-life aggression on the bike. You’re not just overwhelmed, you’re OVERTHINKING—and this nemesis will Klingon to you for the duration of your trip. Look, I know that was an egregious pun, but you brought it on yourself.
TAKE STOCK:
Oh shit. You can’t think clearly about any of this, can you? In fact, you’ve added a few new line items to the Captain’s Log since you first discovered your bags wouldn’t be joining you in Kansas City for TrekFest. For one, you posted your woes to the whole Slack group and now Cory from Indianapolis is gunning for your spot as emcee of tomorrow’s festivities, and two, you ran down the battery of your phone in doing so, so your lack of charging cords is now just as critical as your lack of silicone ear tips.
WHAT’S YOUR REALISTIC IDEAL OUTCOME?
Before you freaked out, it would have been to call the only friend you have who has the right size ears and isn’t at this convention using them himself, and beg him to get up and go to the nearest FedEx location to overnight them to you. (Pledging your firstborn Tribble in gratitude, of course.) But now that you’ve wasted a bunch of time FFs, Gordon is fast asleep, and—realistically—the best you can hope for is to buy a new cord, charge your phone overnight, and manage the fallout on Slack tomorrow while you prowl KC for Silly Putty and Super Glue.
Go here.
Dealing with it when you are FREAKING THE FUCK OUT (with SADNESS)
This is so much harder than it had to be. Not only did you wear yourself out with all that crying, your makeup is a shambles and you’re without your toiletry kit. Even if you felt like going out tonight, you look like Robert Smith after a tennis match in hot weather. And of course, that’s cause for further wallowing. Why does this shit always happen to YOU? How come Brenda and Traci never lose THEIR luggage??
To top it all off, your phone battery died while you were posting a flurry of vague, sad memes intended to generate concern from your Facebook friends and now you can’t even see who commented. God, this is so depressing.
TAKE STOCK:
Ugh. You’ll never be able to replace the AMAZING birthday gift you had lined up for Rashida on such short notice. (The Je Joue Mio was for her.) At this point all you want to do is lie down on the bed and sleep this ruined weekend away. Except—oh nooooo—you just remembered you’re in South Beach and your favorite jammies are lost somewhere over the Bermuda Triangle.
WHAT’S YOUR REALISTIC IDEAL OUTCOME?
Before you freaked out, it would have been to get your suitcase back at all costs, or at least squeeze Southwest for a free ticket—and barring that, get shoppin’! But now that you’ve wa
sted so many freakout funds sniffling, moaning, and vaguebooking, the best you can hope for is to call in depressed to welcome drinks and hope one of the girls can lend you an outfit for tomorrow. If you even feel like getting out of bed tomorrow, that is.
Go here.
Dealing with it when you are FREAKING THE FUCK OUT (with ANGER)
God-fucking-dammit. It turns out that asinine comments and rude gestures neither win friends nor influence people at airport security. Thankfully you didn’t get arrested, but your blood pressure is soaring, your mind is racing, and you’re t-h-i-s-c-l-o-s-e to making a lifelong enemy of the United customer service helpline.
Also, you rage-ate a Big Mac and got yellow mustard all over the only shirt you currently possess. Smooth move, Mr. Hyde.
TAKE STOCK:
This whole situation got a lot more complicated when you decided to give in to your anger. Now you’ve got time-sensitive shit to deal with, you have to do damage control on that YouTube video, add another dress shirt to your shopping list, AND you can barely see straight, you’re so agitated. (You may also want to think about how you’re going to explain the video to Helen from HR when you see her at the awards banquet. It has 300,000 views and counting.)