Difficult Seasons

I’m tired as I write this on Sunday night.  Being tired makes me grumpy.

I just opened a letter from Chevron, the company I retired from, that wants me to provide information that proves I am married to my wife of 41 years.  If I don’t do so by May 27, they’ll stop her medical coverage.  They’re trying to find people they’re providing medical coverage for that they shouldn’t be in order to save money.  So they’re threatening some 50,000 people to get the information they need.

Providing a few facts is not really a big deal in the grand scheme of things.  But when you’re tired, you don’t care about helping them.  It’s just something else you have to do that has a deadline.  It’s just someone else wanting some of your time, some of your energy, that’s already in short supply.  And just someone else threatening you to make sure you give it to them.

So when I finish this post, I’ll go fill out the form and stick it in the envelope.  Tomorrow I’ll mail it.  I’ll do it because medical coverage is important.

But frankly, Chevron lost a chunk of goodwill with me because of the way they did this.  I don’t enjoy being threatened, bullied.  I would have been a little happier if they’d said something like, “We understand what a pain this is, but we really need your help.”  But they didn’t.  They just said, “Do it or else.”  Or that’s the way I read it because I’m tired.

I tell you this story to ask two questions.

1. Is there a way you can conduct your business that creates less demands on the people you serve, or that at least recognizes the intrusion you are making?  Goodwill is a precious commodity to squander.
2. How do those of you who are always worn out because of full-time caregiving or illness — not just occasionally like me — deal with the barrage of demands that come your way?