NBD. Except, it kind of is.
Category: deafness
When to yell at a deaf person.
I feel like the increase in demand for instant gratification has stripped people of the patience to communicate with me.
I had a dream this morning about getting into an altercation with two unfamiliar old ladies who insisted on communicating with me verbally through their masks. I responded, on paper, reminding them that I, too, would love to communicate seamlessly with the public, but because I dared to get sick as a child, I don’t get to do this. Think about it, I continued scribbling, you can’t deal with what I have to do 99% of the time, for five minutes. One of the ladies started bleeding at the fingertip and scribbled her response in blood, accusing me of being disrespectful, thus summoning the manager.
What a sinister bitch!
But that was a dream. In reality, I’ve had many people simply walk away from me upon learning that I can’t understand them even if they start yelling at me from behind their masks. The correct response from me is: “Fuck them.” But when it starts happening regularly, there are some days where I go, “Fuck me, right?”
I don’t like that I’m a misanthropist, but it’s hard not to be when you’re confronted with rude, ignorant people routinely. On the contrary, when strangers do something as simple as sign “thank you,” it brings me joy. This is an everyday interaction most people are accustomed to, but for me, it’s like, “Wow, you’re treating me like everybody else. You’re practically the kindest stranger I’ve interacted with all day. If not all week.”
Continue reading “When to yell at a deaf person.”Fair-weather lady.
Boiling mad.
Hello friends and assorted readers.
In accordance with the updated covid protocols, the communal coffee machine and kettle have disappeared from work, leaving us to scramble for a new hot morning beverage source. My solution was to spend $40 on the largest insulated bottle I could find, 1.2L, to tote boiled water from home because I prefer to do all my teabagging at work.
My desperation as a habitual tea drinker rivals that of coffee drinkers. At least I thought so until I found out that someone brought their camp stove so that they could heat some water for their Aeropresso in the loading bay. What did upper management think would happen? Or was this Bonnie Henry’s suggestion?
Photo flurry.
The most important part of Christmas is my least favourite. It’s not Jesus because this Atheist likes him more than spending time with family, either mine or my partner’s. I do have a cold heart (you’ll see in a bit), but it’s because attending these gatherings as the lone deaf person always ends the same. I first had this realization when I bought a flight “home” for Christmas the first year I lived in Calgary, only to realize that my family found it too burdensome to include me. I came into the kitchen on Christmas morning to find that everybody was having breakfast without me.
The next year, I spent it with my then-partner and his family, and it was even worse because I had to act like I was enjoying myself. I could tell my family that they sucked for not including me, but I had to be gracious towards my in-laws no matter what. I was there out of sheer obligation. My former in-laws had mostly been friendly, and there’d always be a family member or two who made a real effort to include me. Still, if the entire family doesn’t try, it’s not worth it for me.
If that doesn’t sound caustic enough to you, when Dad found the missing box of personal Christmas ornaments that I had spent a few years searching for, I told him I didn’t want them anymore.
I acknowledged that I had more negative memories of Christmastime with the family than not. It sounds cold, but it was the first time I’d ever admitted this to a family member. For years, I faked delight and marveled at the fact that mincemeat tarts didn’t contain meat. I’m so good at pretending I’m enjoying myself that these gatherings have ended with someone saying something along the lines of, “Aren’t you glad you didn’t stay home?”
No!
I prefer to voluntarily alienate myself, so this post is proof that I had a fun Christmas solo!
Continue reading “Photo flurry.”