This is a picture I took on the 25th, when I was extremely frustrated. Unfortunately for me, my frustration level continued to rise pretty much right up until I posted this entry. Which, also unfortunately was not auto published, but real time published at almost 4am, as That One snored in my bed and DaBaby snored on my couch and I snored nowhere because there was no freaking place left in my house to freaking snore. Good thing I am a natural insomniac.
On the bright side, at least I am awake in my house since it didn’t burn down after all. But Dear Lord, can I please have a day without some sort of parenting/financial/automotive/household disaster? PLEASE? I’m beginning to feel a bit like one of those old dishes. You know the ones with the stress marks they call crazing? It comes from age and use and it makes old dishware quite attractive and special. I think it just makes middle aged women look old and tired and bitter.
Having successfully washed my dishes for 21 days, I have decided to work on a new habit. I noticed last Wednesday, as I had That One in my ear and Sprint tech support on chat that his voice was so soothing and calm, almost like a caress. It was quite pleasant. And yet I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was way stressed: surrounded by darn yankees, no cell phone for over 24 hours, pay phones getting harder and harder to find, and he has to stay in touch with his company to know where he is going and what he is doing. And that soft quiet voice that demands you calm right down too and focus right now on getting a job done. I liked it, and I am trying it. Really trying it for real. I’m nowhere near as good at it as he is, but he’s had years of practice. I will say, though, that at times today, my voice was so soft I could hardly hear it myself. But then there was that other time that didn’t quite work out that way. Oh well, it’s a work in progress, this life of mine.