September 11: Old Marley's Name, All the Same to Him, Not Caring

Scrooge never painted out Old Marley's name.  There it stood, years afterwards, above the warehouse door:  Scrooge and Marley.  Sometimes people new to the business called Scrooge Scrooge, and sometimes Marley, but he answered to both names; it was all the same to him.

This passage is an example of Scrooge not caring.  He doesn't like change, is a creature of habit.  Thus, he leaves Marley's name on his business's door.  I'm convinced it's less a matter of cheapness and more a matter of constancy.  Scrooge craves sameness.  He likes the security of the same office, house, gruel.  Change brings upheaval, and Scrooge wants nothing to do with that.

I am very much like Scrooge in this respect.  I do not like upheaval.  The chaos of change can be a good thing sometimes, but, most of the time, chaos is just chaos.  Disorderly.  Hectic.  Anxiety-inducing.  I'm not sure I would have painted out Marley's name if I had been Scrooge.  It's much easier to ignore change until it's staring at you like some phantom or ghost, insisting to be noticed.

I am a creature of habit.  During the school year, my life is pretty structured.  For four months (September to December), my life stays the same.  Work.  School.  Work.  Home.  Then a new semester arrives, and I fall into a new routine for another four months (January to April).  There's a great deal of comfort in that kind of order and harmony.  Like Scrooge, I crave that kind of order and harmony.

My coworker in the medical office is nine months pregnant.  Very shortly, she will not be my coworker for about three months.  I have another change coming, and I'm not looking forward to it.  In fact, I'm a little panicked.  I don't do well with prioritizing tasks.  I tend to get overwhelmed.  The last time my coworker was gone for an extended period of time, I got so far behind in my work that I felt like I was drowning under a pile of medical charts.

I'm not going to acknowledge that my coworker is on maternity leave.  I'll just pretend she's in the medical records room, filing away charts.  Maybe that's what Scrooge did when his partner died.  He convinced himself that Marley was in the vault, counting money, for seven years. 

Saint Marty is haunted today, by the Ghost of Change Past, the Ghost of Change Present, and the Ghost of Change Yet to Come.

It's not denial.  It's Medical Records.