16 Pages In Thirty Minutes At Stumbleupon

I like my job. I really do. Nonetheless, all jobs involve well, WORK. Even when you like what you do.

I’m a writer and I love to write and I love that I get to write about education for the car donation program known as Kars4Kids. I like it because I know I’m helping kids and their parents with this work. My work offers meaning beyond the satisfaction of a job well done, not to mention it pays the rent.

Still, I love it when the day is done and I get to goof off. One of my new fave things to waste time on after a hard day at work is stumbleupon. I um, stumbled upon stumbleupon while looking for ways to shamelessly self-promote my blogs.

Screenshot of Stumbleupon

I share my blogs on my Facebook timeline, on my Facebook author’s page, on Twitter, Google+, LinkedIn, and tumblr. I even created a board for my articles on Pinterest. But all those other share buttons on the various blog interfaces I use had me intrigued. I began exploring some of these other venues and stumbleupon was one of the happier experiments I enjoyed in checking out these various social media networks.

Stumbleupon is FUN. On the other hand, it won’t be much use to me in my profession. I’ve shared about 10 pages on stumbleupon, but don’t really expect them to play well there. Stumbleupon is more about fun and delightful games and graphics than education, politics, and other serious stuff. But fun is good too, right? I mean, within reason.

So the interface is fairly simple. You’re shown a webpage. If you like it, you click the thumbs up symbol. Don’t like it, click the thumbs down symbol. Ready to move on? Click stumble and a new page comes up.

Or Be Brave

By voting thumbs up or thumbs down, you offer stumbleupon a way to refine your preferences and show you more of what you like. When you sign up (yes, it’s free), you check boxes next to all your interests. If stumbleupon sees you clicking thumbs up for many pages within one interest, a window will come up asking if you want to add a related interest. You can always say no. Or be brave and say yes.

I wanted to show you what it’s like to play on the stumbleupon playground (that’s my story and I’m sticking to it) so I went through 16 pages today to show you how I use it as well as my reactions to what stumbleupon chooses to show me.  

The one downside to stumbleupon is that not every webpage is accessible outside of stumbleupon which makes sharing kind of difficult. I linked to all the pages I came across today that CAN be accessed on their own. The others, well, you’ll have to sign up with stumbleupon to see them. Sorry about that.

1) Collected Quotes from Albert Einstein. Meh. email forward. Seen it 100 times. Thumbs down.

STUMBLE

2) Crafts I'd never do. Toilet paper roll finger puppets. Seriously? Thumbs down.

Screenshot from website

STUMBLE

3) Gorgeous 360 degree interactive August sunset in Moab, Utah. THUMBS UP.

STUMBLE

4) Takes a long time to load but NEATO. It’s an interactive scene the nature of which I don’t want to spoil for you by telling you about it here. It takes a while to figure out what you need to do to get the neato stuff to happen. Once it does, it’s so cool it’s almost overwhelming. Very, very creative.  Thumbs up.

STUMBLE

5) Gosh. I don't LIKE the art here, but it is so lifelike and realistic and drawn from CHALK, yet! I have to appreciate the artist’s amazing work in spite of my dislike. Thumbs up.

STUMBLE

6) Oh definitely. These are still pictures with embedded gifs so that the pictures move in only one or two small areas of the scene. It’s an extremely effective device. The dice. The cat's ear. I couldn’t figure out what was moving in the photo of the woman standing at the railing, though I looked for a long time and I’m a fairly observant person. That was disappointing. Still: Thumbs UP.

STUMBLE

I get a message from Stumbleupon: "You’ve liked the animation pages several times. Would you like to add graphic design to your interests?"

I choose yes.

7) A black and white photo of apartment building windows during a sideways blowing snowstorm at night. Okay.

Screenshot from Stumbleupon

Not wild about this particular photo, but in general, I like photographs and want to see more, especially black and white photos, so I'll click thumbs up.

STUMBLE

8) Hmm. Thumbs down, though I feel guilty, since it's Winslow Homer and all. Just don’t like this particular painting.

STUMBLE

9) Prank video. Australian guys rig up buddy's plumbing with BEER. Hot and cold running beer from every spigot in the house. Web cams set up so the friends can watch. They must really love their friend to go to all that trouble and expense. FUNNY! Thumbs up.

STUMBLE

10) Sesame street alien puppets discover computer. Weird. Pointless. Thumbs down.

STUMBLE

11) Dumb, dumb, dumb joke. Thumbs down.

STUMBLE

12) Stylish mommy blog. Boring. Thinking: people who stumble upon my blogs on stumbleupon will be thinking the same thing. Gulp. Thumbs down.

STUMBLE

13) Laser cure for Alzheimer's that can distinguish between healthy proteins and toxic amyloids "So simple,

Screenshot from website.

it's incredible." Medical breakthrough dated only yesterday. Cool, if not fun. Thumbs up.

STUMBLE

14) Neatoooooooooooooooo! Canvas Pinball, a game of pinball set up as if on the page of a spiral bound

Screenshot from Stumbleupon

notebook. You use the arrows on your keyboard. Several balls in play at once add a surprise element. I like it. Thumbs up.

STUMBLE

Worried about the artist's diet. (screenshot from Stumbleupon)

15) Drawings of liquid by a Chinese artist. Amazing but um, yuh. The eyeball thing. weird. You wonder if the artist needs a change of diet and you wouldn't want to um, meet him. Oh all right. Thumbs up.

Screenshot from Stumbleupon

STUMBLE

16) Last but not least: a wikihow on how to escape from Handcuffs. That should be a right handy thing to know if I should ever decide to commit a crime. Thumbs UP.

The end.

Seeing Green

Once upon a time, Microsoft Spell Check told me I spelled my name wrong.

Except it wasn’t once, but many times.

No matter how often I ignored that wavy red line, it came right back, whenever I typed my name in WORD.

Spell Check was firm but insistent. My name was not “Varda” but “Verda.”

I, on the other hand, thought this silent mechanical voice to be brazen in the extreme. How dare a mere computer program tell me how to spell my name? And what the heck is “Verda” anyhow?

After many bouts of bruxism, I at last cajoled my software into recognizing my ultimate authority. This is a good thing and a step in the right direction.

However, Spell Check is still going around telling lies behind my back, announcing to all and sundry that my name is, yes, Verda.

I know this to be true because I regularly receive emails addressed to this Verda person who continues to be me, Varda. In fact, it was after receiving just such a note, another in a long line of them, that I became motivated to blow off some steam at you, Dear Reader. The sender of this note, this miscreant misspeller of names was (get this) writing to ask me a favor.

Random Request

She was just this random woman who sent me a LinkedIn request a day earlier. I checked out her profile and saw that her professional focus dovetailed nicely with my own—she’s the founder of a company that brings together experts on child education and parenting to offer content on a variety of subjects. I, on the other hand, write about child education on behalf of Kars for Kids, a nonprofit car donation program. I noted that we also had a mutual professional acquaintance, one with whom I’ve done some good work. It made sense for me then to accept her contact request and I did so.

The very next day, however, she spammed me by requesting I give her a rating on her professional performance. I could but only respond:

 Hello. I don’t KNOW you. How can I RATE you??

She wrote back,

Hello Verda,

It was sent to all my connection, please just ignore it

Have a good day.

Um, yuh. You spam me. Ask me for a favor. Apologize by MISSPELLING MY NAME and then tell me to have a good day?

You’re lucky I don’t bite your head off your neck, chew it up, and spit it out. (Virtually speaking, of course).

You liked that one? I’ll tell you another.

HR over at Kars for Kids asked me if I could post on some email lists advertising for web designers to join our team. I did so and received an avalanche of responses. Instead of just sending them on, I decided to weed through them to save HR some time. One that didn’t make the cut wrote (yup, you guessed it):

Hello Verda,

My name is xxxx xxx.

I have been designing website and doing internet marketing for over 7 years.

I have extensive experience as a Project Manager - including a Web Project Manager, which basically means that I am very organized.

Hope to hear from you soon.

Basically very organized, eh? Uh huh. That’s how you managed to make sure to refer to my original note to

GET THE SPELLING OF MY NAME RIGHT YOU NINCOMPOOP.

I subdued my homicidal tendencies long enough to respond as follows:

Word of advice? I'm not HR, just helping out, but you spelled my name wrong. If you're applying for a job, you may want to take care on that score in future

Like, DU-UH.

But what’s in a name, anyway? Well, for one thing, there are the actual meanings of names. They’re important. They speak to the soul of a person. When someone calls you by your name, you feel good, perhaps without being fully conscious of that fact.

Verda means “green” in Esperanto.

Varda means “rose” in Hebrew (see: My First Blog).

Varda is the imprint of the memory of my Great Grandmother Raizel on my soul and heritage: the woman who put the red in my hair. It’s my mother’s friend who on seeing me through a hospital nursery window said, “She’s all pink and white!”

My name translates to my love of flowers, especially creamy white roses with a hint of pink.

For a long time I didn’t like my name. The sound of it is odd as it falls on Western ears. But you know it’s kind of grown on me. It’s different. Distinctive.

Meantime, I’m trying to get a grip on this gripe about people spelling my name wrong. I’ve said to myself, “Self: maybe it’s just jealousy. When they think of you, they are seeing green.”

This little self-administered pep talk is supposed to help me lose my anger. But in reality, it feels like a kick in the kidneys every. time. I. see. that. misspelled. name. The person who types that, the one who taps out Verda on her keyboard, doesn’t care enough about the person behind the name to bother to get it right. 

There’s no malice or intent, but all the same, it’s a kind of disrespect.

Because a person’s name is her essence, her honor.

I can make light of it and imagine that when she types out my name, she’s seeing green.

But more probably, she’s not seeing much at all.

As for me? I’ll just have to keep seeing the world through—um—rose-colored glasses.  

  

Career Moves IV

oday's blog is a continuation on the subject of social media and career promotion.

We're up to Twitter. So for me, Twitter just feels, um, limited. I love, adore, delight in words, words, and more words. I don't find it a challenging game to force myself into a minimum of letters--it doesn't make me feel successfully competitive when I am successful at staying within the lines. Instead, it feels like a crime.

Makes me kind of sad, really. People forcing their most important moments into 140 characters and spaces. You can call it art. You can say it is beautifully spare and minimal. Contemporary. All chrome, glass, and neutrals. But I call it "limiting."


I had the same problem with the word limit at the much more generous Facebook. And that was the main thing Google+ had going over Facebook. Yeah, you could write a note on Facebook. But notes were weird. They were like getting up on a stage.

On Google+ you could keep on going way after you could on Facebook, realize it, and tie it up, Folks. But you could have those few extra dots, squiggles, and lines of meaning.

Did you think that was enough to sway me to Google+? Nope. I just can't like it there. Is it some loyalty I feel I owe to Mark Zuckerberg who never misses an opportunity to hurt his own people? Can't be, right? I mean this is the gal who organized a one-day boycott of Facebook if the social media space refused to take down the violent Intifada pages. I have proven my commitment to activism.

(Note: There was a deadline and Facebook met the deadline, so I canceled the event. Which was really, really dumb. I should have changed the date to "anytime" or something. What I did was make the whole thing disappear. Facebook didn't archive the page which means that we the public do not have access to all the viral activity there. I can't show it to the world or even to potential employers. I can't say: I did this. *dumbkopf* *smacking myself upside the haid*

Worse yet, within hours, the pages were back. *sigh*)


But back to MZ. I don't feel loyal to him. I just don't feel a need to switch. I'm comfortable on Facebook. Any place else seems foreign in comparison. No matter how bright and colorful and unlimited. Dumb, right? Well, there it is. Could there also be a bit of the anti-Google in me? I do sometimes worry at Google's supremacy in the world. It feels almost like a mitzvah to knock it down a notch or two.

That leads me to here. My blog. I talked about blog narcissism back in 2009 So, you know my tentative feelings about sharing feelings. But something I read the other day in an excellent blog by Carol Tice on 113 Things You Can Do to Grow Your Freelance Writing Income — Now may be changing the way I think about blogging.


Number 111 on Tice's list of tips is: "Remember your blog is a writing sample. Have a clean design, show you understand social media, and write every post like it’s a $1-a-word magazine assignment."

Now that was a tip I could implement with ease. I can write in my blog. In a sense, unemployment is freeing: I finally have the time to exercise my writing muscle.

Of course, poverty means taking the time to do things the old-fashioned way, like grating cheese to save the shekels it costs to buy the already-grated stuff. On the other hand, there is nothing like hand-grated cheese and the satisfaction of having been the one to produce the same. There is joy and immediate gratification in "just being a housewife."

The kids come home to a gourmet lunch and say, "I love you, Eema," whereas when I'm working, it doesn't make sense to cook complicated items. Why should I when I can cook something fast and easy they all enjoy? And I am amply suited to do just that. Thank God. Though I confess my sewing borders on sadomasochism--a topic to save for another blog, maybe, if I dare.

Meantime, I am here a lot, at Judean Rose, experimenting on what works to generate a comment and a following and what does not. I get the luxury of indulging my creative writing bent just for me. And it's good for my career, too.



A person needs calm and space in which to write. That makes writing a luxury for me. Calm and space are items that sometimes seem well out of reach to me.


Sometimes I dream about it: having time and space to write. As much as I want. Well, short of a sugar daddy (ha!) or a grant from some discerning org, time and space to write remains the provenance of the wealthy. And anyway, who'd want to read the thoughts of a poor person?

But please spare me the comments about poor being relative and how rich I really am and so forth. You know what I mean. Don't force me to pretend for your sake. Your silence on this issue feels supportive in this case.

Please DO leave comments about the use of social media and weighing friendships versus business moves.

Career Moves III

esterday's blog was a continuation on the subject of social media and the use of friends as vehicles for career promotion. Today's blog is a continuation of this topic.

I spoke about Facebook, Quora, Pinterest, and putting the word out to friends about my job search. But employers are also asking me about other social media.

3) Are you on LinkedIn? Twitter? Google+?

I have put some work into LinkedIn but just can't get excited about going there. I also end up in sticky water when people I REALLY DON'T LIKE send connection requests. You can say it's only about business, but that's just the point: if I don't like the person, why on earth would I want to help them professionally? Okay, so yes, I have a nasty spot in me.

On the other hand, I sent out LinkedIn contact requests to everyone I could find through my own contacts, who was even remotely connected to any profession that interested me. I clicked the space next to "friend" which was the only way to send a request to someone you don't know for free, but explained what I was doing in the copied and pasted message I sent with the requests. I was honest about my motives.That actually got a hugely positive response. All the writers and so forth, to whom I'd sent requests thought it a mutually beneficial idea to become LinkedIn contacts and gladly accepted.

But then I had a painful experience regarding the woman with whom I'd apprenticed under for one month. I learned so much from her. She promised me the earth, hinting more than once that I would soon be offered "a more global position." She said that salary reviews would be undertaken after the High Holidays and that's when it would happen.

Then two days before Rosh HaShana, she called to tell me a different office had nixed the idea and had already hired someone else in New York. I felt my heart dip and fall into a place of pain, way down deep. I hovered on the brink of depression.I had just written my mother about the upcoming promotion. My family had rejoiced at that news. It was a triumph. 

A month later I sent the woman who spoke of a more global position a LinkedIn request for a recommendation and she never responded. We'd been in constant contact for a month as she taught me the ropes and made me dream. Shee-oot. Reminds me of a mantra I used to have and have tried to since disown: "Life sucks and then you die." I can't tell you how many times I got chastised for that one until fed up, I changed it to: ""No matter how short your wife is, lean down and take her advice."
(Bava Metzia 59a)

Everyone loves this one. Especially men with short wives.

So that would be all I have to say about LinkedIn. See tomorrow for more about social media and career promotion.

Career Moves Part II

esterday's blog was about the pros and cons of using Facebook to promote a career. Today's blog continues the subject of social media and friends as vehicles for career promotion.


                                       Putting the Word Out There

I put the word out to friends that I need help with my job search. Some friends have done their best to help me by forwarding me job opps. I have been very touched by their kindness and this has really been, in general, quite helpful.

But in one case, someone actually spoke to a friend about me to try to help get me back on my feet. My friend's friend had politics at odds with my own. My friend was upfront about that fact. And the bottom line is Dov and I agreed it would be wrong for me to take any work that came through that venue.



It looks ungrateful, or maybe stupid. But in fact, it was only a moral decision about being true to our (mine and my husband's) own beliefs, politically and otherwise.

In another case, a friend gave me a hot lead, including an email address, but the contact never responded. I went back to my friend who said, "Write in the subject line: 'SO-AND-SO SENT ME,'" (substituting her name of course and not so-and-so) which still elicited no response from the contact. *shrug*

Well, onward and upward: in the first installment of this series, I wrote about the number one question from employers, "How many friends on Facebook?"

But employers are also asking about other social media sites.

2) "What about Quora and Pinterest?"

I had no ideas what these spaces were, but I figured it out and wangled invites for both sites. I need to say this: I HATE that by-invitation-only stuff. I think they do it to make people feel elite. Which is really obnoxious and insults our intelligence.

But once on Pinterest, I enjoyed myself. I made a nudnik of myself by posting luscious food pix one after the other on Facebook. People said, "What? Are you trying to KILL me??" LOL.


Quora was less successful. But only because I found myself "into it" right away and then had a negative interaction with someone within hours that is still having ramifications until now. I answered a question and got pressed for more proof. My proof was not this person's proof and I had none other to offer. But the other person insisted that meant I was wrong. Argh.

What do you think of the invitation only social media sites?

To be continued.

Career Moves

 have been thinking about a lot of ideas this week in a kind of ephemeral haze. I am stalled in my career. My attempts to find employment are still met with resistance.

What is, is written in the cosmos for reasons unknown to me. As a result, I came to decide that my best career move at the moment is to focus on this one space: my blog.

Here's the premise:

This is a space where potential employers can test my mettle as a writer: Am I good enough?

And this is a space where I can build a following.

Still, it is clear that to be anyone today, you have to be here, there, and everywhere. A blog isn't enough. eMail isn't enough. One blog and eMail is equivalent to having no presence on the World Wide Web. You'll have barely left a footprint. How do I know this? Potential employers have been asking me about my social media qualifications:

1) How many friends on Facebook?

This question forced me to assess my Facebook habits. I have tried to keep Facebook honest. I didn't want to make friends for business' sake. I have LinkedIn for that.

But today's employer expects you to exploit all social media for his/her benefit. That means that numbers count.

It also forces you to decide on your perspective--what do you deem a prudent career move and what borders on performing immoral acts? Do I agree to exploiting the numbers in this equation? Do I rack up friends to drive the numbers up without giving a damn about them? Do I friend famous or successful people, hoping that our friendship somehow leverages me to a different stratum of the social sphere?

If you were to do your own assessment of your Facebook friends, you may find that you have many friends you know are not interested in you in the least. Some of them never wrote a word on your wall or pitched in on a thread. Some never said a word but saw you in the supermarket and told you that they read everything you write and share--it's just that s/he's a lurker. Now that's a horse of a different color: an honest statement like that must be savored and appreciated.

But if they see you and still say nothing. Or they live far away but you see they wish everyone else in your old crowd Happy Birthday except for you.

Maybe you had a warm, even BEAUTIFUL reunion, seasoned with the wisdom that comes with age. But one party sensed the other's antipathy over the decision to divorce a spouse, or asked for financial help after having no connection for 3 decades. Or perhaps you posted too many youtube clips. Or perhaps it's really your constant politicizing but the other must find a noncontroversial excuse to unfriend you that doesn't seem anti-Semitic so the person says that you post too many youtube clips.

And what of lurkers who comment on every single posting and make everything all about them? Personally, I would love to do an honest clean-up of my facebook list. Keeping friends who do not like you feels like RAPE and it's not much better when it's you who doesn't like THEM.

But the numbers. I'd go down to so few real friends. Okay, not by that many, I'm exaggerating. But I'm thinking one-third would stay by my side, given a choice. Can I afford to be honest at the expense of doing what needs to be done to help me pay my bills?

Here is what I have considered then: Perhaps I will tell people that I will unfriend anyone who doesn't wish me happy birthday on the date Facebook tells them is my birthday (As an aside: I celebrate my birthday according to the changeable lunar calendar, for religious reasons. My lunar birthday is ט"ו סיון or the 15th of Sivan.)

At that point, if you wish to continue to be my friend, so this line of thought goes, you will have to send me a new friend request. If you have unsubscribed from my feed, then you likely will not receive notice that this blog entry has been posted. I post my blog entries from here, Twitter, linkedIn, Facebook, and Google+.

When I write something new, it is out here in the blogosphere. So, shall I adopt this policy? If you don't wish me happy birthday, you're gone and the numbers be damned? I feel I need to have some scruples, you see.

So maybe I shouldn't do that. What do you think? Should I keep the numbers and let two-thirds of my friends just be numbers? Is my career more important than calling nonfriends, "friends?"


To be continued.

Nobody Likes a Kvetch

It's a truism--nobody likes a kvetch. I had a friend, years ago, all she did was gripe about her difficult life. At first, I remained faithful, listened to her ad infinitum venting, mirrored her thoughts, sympathized, and on occasion, offered advice. But it was wearing. I realized I felt weary and down every time I left her. You can't really hide it when you feel like that, so I'd bring my blue fatigue home to my family and, well, it was contagious. Just affected everyone in sight.

I don't know how long it took for me to figure this out. I think it must have been about three years. So, for three long years, I coddled and nurtured this friend. I don't think she was clinically depressed, just seemed to have complete focus on the negative aspects of her life.

Was her life so bad? I really don't think so.

It may not be fair for me to second guess how hard her life felt to her, but when I realized how being with her made me feel, I decided it was time for me to take a hard look at the issues and get some perspective. I could only examine the details as she shared them with me, but her complaints did seem kind of garden variety to me. Weighing her issues against my own issues was the decisive factor in realizing that this friend's negativity was a heavy burden: unhealthy for me and my family. Besides, no matter what careful advice I offered, she always countered with why she couldn't possibly follow my counsel. I wanted to help her, but it didn't seem possible. Even just as a listening ear, I didn't seem to be able to offer much assistance, since the very next day, she felt just the same. At most, I might have been able to conclude that my listening may have kept her from feeling worse.

I didn't do anything cruel. I still cared about this woman. But I began to limit the amount of time I spent in her presence. The effect was immediate: I felt lighter, happier, and so did my family.

Now, I remember this friend whenever I'm laid low by circumstances and I make an effort to keep a cheerful countenance, no matter what. I do this by following my own, unfollowed advice to my friend, all those years ago. Instead of focusing on the painful, very real issues, I look for what I can do to change my situation into a brighter, happier one. I also make sure I milk every precious drop out of the goodness in my life.

Once you begin to look for happiness, you can find it everywhere. But you have to do the leg-work: you have to watch for those moments of joy.

Yesterday, I had a truly sucky day. My editor let the writing team know that our company is planning to employ outsourcing to get web content for half the price of what we've been receiving for the past two years. We had a choice: make a bid and accept twice as much work for half as much pay, or skidaddle. Let me add that I've been caring for a woman with dementia to round out my income and debts are mounting. My husband is urging me to take on more elder care, or to find work as a cashier, or clean houses. I've done this in the past. I know there's no shame in cleaning houses. But it FEELS shameful. It's nasty. It's exhausting. It's depressing.

And I do believe that I will succeed at my writing. I don't know why I feel this way, but I just do. I'm not yet ready to throw in the towel.

So, I attacked the issue with as much positivity as I could muster. I looked not at what I couldn't change, but what I might, with a bit of effort, be able to change. Here is what I did:

I worked on my profile at LinkedIn, and I searched for connections of connections with similar professional interests and made connection requests, copying and pasting the same message for pages and pages of search hits. An overwhelming number of these people accepted my request so that my list of contacts expanded 10 fold. I thought about which of my LinkedIn contacts might write me a reference, and nudged them until they followed through.

I wrote to a local writer's list, told my tale of woe, and asked for advice. As a result, advice from other writers has been coming into my inbox all morning. I also thought about what other contacts I have and how they might help me. A friend publishes a few children's books every year, so I sat down and typed up a children's story, edited my piece, and sent in a submission query.

I read about new job listings and applied for the one job that seemed suitable for me.

Then, I watched for happy moments.

I find that I have to attack unpleasantness on two levels. There is the practical level, as in the steps I took above, but there is the emotional comfort that arrives in small doses all day long, with no effort at all. You just have to be watching for them.

Last night, I invited my little boy into my bed so I could read to him before his bedtime. He didn't just accept my invitation, but looped his sweet pudgy arm around my own. It was so nice I held my breath for a moment.

But there are so many moments like these. I sit at my typewriter, typing away, dressed in my fuzziest, soft top, while outside the weather is blustery and gray. The house is filled with the smell of the good soup I have bubbling away on the stove, and it's pleasant to be home.

I know, too, that I have friends who care about me and loving children who like to spend time in my presence.

Yes, there is a lot of crap in my life. But what earthly good does it do me to dwell on the details? It's like being on a bus, stuck in traffic. You are late for your appointment, but there is absolutely nothing you can do about it, except call from your cellphone and explain your lateness. You're still going to be late. It's an act of God.

If you do your part, pray if you're a God-fearing person, or act, if you're a practical person (both in my case), then depression and worry are not productive emotions. Give them short shrift. Move on, act, pray, and find the joyful moments. You've got no choice. No one likes a kvetch.