Thursday, April 11, 5:30-6:30 p.m.
We got to Union City 40 minutes before group started, because we had errands. I needed to take a form into the Mission Bay office, and then to the post office with our two tax returns, all signed and sealed and hopefully delivered by Saturday (April 13). Just to San Francisco and Sacramento.
I decided to take a picture of the outside of the building, since we were half an hour early. The wind was blowing the red leaves of the Japanese maple (I think) and I saw George in his heavy-duty power chair spinning around and around on the sidewalk. Linda and I talked about him, thinking he probably came to Kaiser via the East Bay Paratransit service.
But I went in and checked in as usual and waited for Lisa to show up and take us back to the group meeting room. There were only 6 of us at first, then two more came in late, so we had 4 women and 4 men. I was clearly the oldest one. Sometimes I don’t think there’s anyone in the world older than me, except for Rose and Carrol and Norma. But I’m older than all my doctors and practitioners. Well, of course, because if they were as old as me, they would be long since retired! Or dead.
The first thing Lisa did was to apologize for yet another schedule change. Tonight’s session would be 5:30 to 6:30 and next week’s would be 5:30 to 7:30. She mumbled something about having a child care issue. Later, I would find out she has a teenage son. I didn’t think she was that old.
Because tonight’s session was cut short, Lisa said we would skip the relaxation portion. That’s okay with me, as I don’t feel it’s as authentic as the guided meditation with mindful breathing that I learned in the Pain Management Program last year. But maybe I’m biased. So we went right to check-in.
I said I feel ecstatic because my taxes are done, but I confessed I didn’t do my commitment to walk an extra day because I was too focused on the taxes. Lisa said that’s okay, I just changed my commitment mid-week! I–the overthinker and overtalker–had to say that I was continuing my gratitude journal and in bed most nights while it was still 12-something.
She continued our discussion on assertiveness training. She referred us back to the chart for passive, assertive, and aggressive and asked for specific examples from real-life experience. Martha and I start talking at the same time, but I motioned Martha to go ahead first. She said she had a boss who was/is very aggressive, way beyond assertive, and she gave examples of her aggressive behavior in the office. Martha still works at the same place but this person is no longer her direct supervisor.
Then it was my turn. “I, too, had a boss like that,” I began. “She was my boss for 10 years and then she decided to retire. And I was thinking, ‘Whew!’ But then I got a boss who was worse. I didn’t even last a year with her. Unlike my first boss, who was very anti-discriminatory, this one was not. She didn’t believe that I had a hearing disability, would mock me about it, then not allow any accommodation for it.” The others who were listening to me groaned and Lisa said, “Oh, no!”
“As miserable as I was,” I continued, “I didn’t quit. She ended up firing me, which was just as well, because I did get unemployment benefits!” Okay, I talked about that and got it said.
Lisa went next to The D.E.S.C. Model of Conflict Resolution.
- D – Describe the unacceptable behavior
- E – Express your feelings regarding the behavior (use an “I statement”).
- S – Specify a more acceptable behavior
- C – Consequences, both positive and negative, if behavior is or is not changed.
She had two people, “Bill” and “Mary,” read through a conversation of conflict resolution that illustrated the D.E.S.C. Model. She made the statement that anger is always a secondary emotion. The underlying emotion could be fear or embarrassment or anything else. Hmm.
Lisa went right to the “homework” assignment of writing our own example of applying the D.E.S.C. She said it could be something that has really happened to you, either in the past or during this coming week. It could be from a movie or TV show. Or you can just make up a scenario.
There was barely time for our check-out before Lisa had to run. I can’t even remember that I stated a new commitment. Oh, one other thing. Lisa told us that often these groups would have a snack potluck at the last session. She asked for a vote on whether we wanted to or not. Only one raised her hand, so I guess that was a no. I would be crazy to OFFER to bring something to a potluck with people I don’t know anything about in regard to what they eat!
My mind went back to the two “alumni days” with my Pain Management Program group last year. I can’t remember if we had snacks or not. If we did, I probably ate a donut or cupcake. Even though this Depression Group has lasted over a longer time span (3 months), it was just once a week, with some breaks. Pain Management was 3 days a week for 5 weeks and the group was slightly larger (10-12 people), facilitated by two practitioners, plus Sophie for optional group acupuncture. And there was a real sense of community. Some of us even exchanged phone numbers on the last day, although I never followed up on any of them. Except for Francis, the Pain Physical Therapist, who I’m still seeing but feeling guilty about doing so now. But I digress.
Linda, of course, was mildly surprised when I came out to the car early. Emily had been sleeping while Linda was surfing the internet on her phone. I talked briefly about the group session, and then we talked about other things.
Friday, April 12
Today, when I opened my 2018 Tax Returns file folder to put away the TurboTax instruction sheets, I discovered that I had failed to include my and Linda’s 1099-R forms in both the federal and state returns. I was angry! No, I felt embarrassed and humiliated and super stupid!
But there was no time to do anything, and I didn’t know exactly what I was going to do, any way. I decided I needed to send the 1099-Rs to both San Francisco and Sacramento, with an explanation. So I prepared two letter-size envelopes with the appropriate documents folded into a copy of the instruction sheets. I had to search Google to find out that the current 1 oz. first-class letter is now $.55 (up from $.50 which I had not even been aware of). The last time I sent a first-class envelope, it had been $.49 and then $.48. I searched my stash of old stamps. I had printed sheets of $.49, $.48, and $.46, with sheets of 1-cent stamps. Then, at the bottom of the pile, there was a book of $.55 stamps! Who knew?!? Then I saw that these $.55 stamps had been the cost for mailing a 2-oz. first-class letter! I can remember when first-class postage was 3 cents (a purple stamp with Washington on it) that went up to 4 cents (a burgundy stamp with Lincoln on it). At least that was my memory.
I put 55-cent stamps on the two envelopes and put them on top of my Prismacolor pencil case. Until tomorrow.
Saturday, April 13
I showered and dressed and made breakfast then got my computer ready for Kinship board meeting online at one o’clock. I’m still angry, but I’ll have to be a grown-up today because board meeting. Actually, it went well, even though I don’t like having to wear headphones and hear that infuriating echo!
I waited about an hour after board meeting (to give Linda a chance to rest), then I approached her. “How would you and Emily like to go for a short road trip?” I waited, then said, “Just to the post office. You don’t have to get out of the car.”
I sighed, then I confessed to her about my snafu with the tax returns. “I’ll be at my desk,” I told her. “Let me know when you’re ready to leave.”
When I went back into the bedroom to check, Linda told me that she had put the question into Google. “I failed to include my income documents with my tax return. What should I do?” Then she read the answer that came from TurboTax. Essentially, it said do NOT mail in the missing forms in a separate envelope. Wait until they contact you–if they do–and ask for it.
You know, I don’t deal well with changes in plans. But I didn’t argue. I went back to my desk, put the envelopes I had prepared in the file folder labeled “2018 Tax Returns” and put it on the pile of papers to file. But I’m still angry. At my stupidness.
If I weren’t eating low-carb, I’m certain I would be suffering from Alzheimer’s now.
