No wait. This is not my diary, but rather my personal blog. Hmm. Where should all of this go? Well, I’ve never been one to consistently write in my diary, although, it’s always been a dream to be the type of person who does. I have yet to accomplish that goal. Among so many others, as well. Anyway. I guess, human experience can connect us with mere strangers, and help us to feel that we are not alone on our journey. And it can feel good to relate. Right? Maybe it’s just me. Who knows. So, here goes…
Let me tell you about my morning, It’s kinda funny. You may laugh. You may cry. You may wonder why you’re even reading this blog. But, give me a few minutes; you may be able to relate to the technicalities.
So, the alarm goes off, 5:20 a.m., because I can’t very well get up on the half hour, that’s too normal. Who’s normal? Clearly, I am not. So, the alarm goes off, I hit snooze. Off to dreamland, even though I haven’t really had any dreams for about a month now. In what seems like only minutes, a half an hour passes by and I jump out of bed at 6:05 a.m.
Great. We woke up late. That always sends everyone into a frenzy. Cue the teenage daughter. Let the drama begin.
In hopes of easing her drama, and my pain, she jumps in the shower first. I’ll just wait, maybe pick out my clothes for the day.
Ugh. DO I really want to do that? I need a whole new wardrobe. I hate everything in my closet! Not to mention I’m carrying around an extra 30 pounds that really makes me look fat, frumpy, and makes everything I own look 100 times worse. I mean, if I were thin I could probably just wear all of my old clothes and at least look hipster or trendy. The old, worn look is in this season, right? I look homeless most days, and If I could find room in our budget, man, I’d look so fabulous. Everyday, the choice to look semi-decent or pauper-ish! Oh, the struggle.
After 8 minutes of listening to her whine and complain about getting up late and not having time for everything she needs to do to get ready for school, the teenager gets out of the shower. My turn. I didn’t decide on any clothes.
Okay, I’ll shower, and then get a cup of coffee. That will help. My husband (He really is an amazing man!!) makes me a fresh cup of coffee every morning from our freely acquired (a blessing, right?) Keurig machine. You know, because spending 13 dollars on a 16 pack of K-cups that last a week to have a fresh, single couple of coffee is so much better than your average 6-7 dollar can of Folgers. That can can last a month, but single serve is better, right? I deserve a good cup of coffee, it’s all I really splurge on anyway. Well, maybe pizza every Friday, but I deserve that too, don’t I. Wait. Is this borderline narcissism? Probably.
Ahh, coffee, waiting for me as I exit the shower. Back to the teenage drama. It’s coming from the kitchen. I guess I can go and see if I can help the situation, cause I’m good at helping my husband defend himself from the tyrant that is our unhappy teenager. Not really, but I like to think so. He’s a man and typically makes better choices than I do. I should have left him alone. He is a man, and can stand his ground. No. I meddled anyway. I should have just continued to get myself ready for the day because what would happen next would only send me off the deep end into my own dramatic teenage frenzy, and I’m not a teenager!
Ants. In the kitchen. Again. Crawling all over the floor, searching for all of the pieces of laziness. Now we’re moving the table and chairs and pulling out the stove to find out where their point of entry is. Little jerks. They’re everywhere. Feasting on all of my shortcomings, because you know we haven’t swept or mopped all week and goodness, we must be real pigs. It’s no wonder they’re in the kitchen. We’ve practically invited them to take up residence due to our cleanliness, or lack there of. But really, it wasn’t that bad! At 6 in the morning, it felt like a personal invasion of not just my house, but my sanity.
All of this while I’m in my pajamas. Hair still wet and uncombed from the shower. And, my coffee is sitting unattended, getting cold, in my bedroom. Not to mention we need to leave the house in 15 minutes.
Madness. What else could go wrong? Oh I better not think that. Because God knows, everything else could go wrong (No offense to you, Lord. You know I mean no disrespect. I love you. I do!). Be thankful. Count your blessings woman, and hurry up and put some clothes on so you don’t arrive at work nude.
In comes the daughter. “The cat peed on my rug, again.”
OH MY GOODNESS! Are you kidding. This cat. What the heck is wrong with her. Whatever. As I walk down our small hallway, the stench of cat urine fills the air. Ahhh. Fabulous morning thus far. I hate the cat. Both cats. I wish they would go away forever. Why does she do this? What is wrong with her? Doesn’t she know we have shelled out over a THOUSAND dollars this passed year to keep her alive and now she wants to die by the hands of the one who feeds her. She must have a death wish. Maybe that’s it. She’s suicidal but lacks the ability to do something about it. This is her master plan, I just know it. I should of just let her die back when she got sick. Goodness, I’m such an awful person. How could I think these thoughts?
On to the bathroom. Do something with that hair. What am I gonna do with it? I should never have cut it. At least when it was long I could just pull it all up into a bun and be done with it. But no. I had to cut it all off. The headaches, remember? Now, it’s too short to pull up. I cant just let it air dry, because I don’t have that type of hair. I don’t have time. Pull it up the best you can and GET DRESSED!
Well. Now back at the closet of despair. Ahhh. I hate my life. I hate this closet. I hate these clothes. And I hate being fat. I should have went running this morning. I could have handled all of this much better had I ran. This sucks.
Clothes, woman, you need clothes and you need to meet the hubby and the teenager in the car to leave the house. CLOTHES. Put some on and get out the door.
But my coffee. Over there on my desk. Losing it’s intensity as the moments slip through my hands into what is the stench of my Friday morning.
Take a sip, you’ll feel better. God, help me get through this morning. Please.
I grabbed my comfy jeans and an old, comfy black T-shirt. Pretty standard, really. Jeans and a black shirt. If I die today, please, burn me in my jeans and black shirt. Any other attire would be ludicrous.
Well, I’m not dead yet.
I grab my coffee, scrounge up my things, and head out the door. First I tip-toe through the teenage son’s bedroom, to yell good bye, as he sleeps away 7 am. Tarzan would get hurt in there. Oh geez. And with all of that mess, I bet the ants are in there too. Ahh. but I love that son of ours, more than he will ever understand in his 15 year old mind.
Finally. In the car. A half an hour later than our usual departure time. Wow. The teenage girl will be late, for sure. Inhale. Exhale. Sip on the luke warm coffee.
So as we drive down the road I will leave the morning at the house behind me and blaze a trail to school and work. As we drive I must apply my make-up, of course. Thankfully, the hubby is driving. Besides, I can’t show up at working looking like I hadn’t worked a real job in 5 years. My clothes were pathetic enough. I didn’t need my face to match the outfit. You try putting on eyeliner at 40 miles an hour. The lines never match up. But, at least I went from looking like a squinty-eyed mole rat to just a really exhausted, woman in my LATE thirties, who just put on her eyeliner in the car. Improvement, right? Not so much. But. it’s the best for this morning so it will have to suffice. It has to.
Well, we got the teenage drama queen to school, at 8 on the dot. Nothing short of a miracle, really. Especially considering we were being driven by my ever so law- abiding husband who makes 90 year old drivers look dangerous. He really is a cautious and very good driver. Unlike me who during our 21 years of being together has never been in one accident. I’ve been in a few small fender benders and 1 where our car was a total loss. That sucked.
I got to work feeling tired, fat, vagabond-ish and flustered. Ahh. nothing like a great morning before getting to work. Sigh.
I was early, as usual. I was gonna heat up my coffee that I hadn’t finished and sit quietly as I gathered my thoughts. I will throw on my pandora, listen to some good ol’ fashion gospel, and get my priorities in check. Reading some written word, and listening to some calming music will change my whole perspective.
Guess what I forgot?
The lifeline to the modernized world. I knew there was a reason why I never wanted to convert to a bible app, exclusively. I should just by an old school pocket bible like I used to have years back. I should just carry around a tape player. That’s how I used to get my Ron Kenoly back in the day. Recorded worship music, because piracy wasn’t really a thing back then.
I guess I will just sit here, in silence. Suffer in silence. Oh God, I need you, in this day, in this moment. At this job. Be with me.
How will all of this work together for my good? What will be the fruit of this chaotic morning? Well, let me see if I can sum it up.
The lateness is a character flaw in which I need to exercise more discipline. Get up at the first bell, and never hit snooze. A new rule to implement. Let’s see how that goes tomorrow. Tomorrow is Saturday. I guess I can try on Monday.
Teenage daughters. Well, they grow up. It’s a phase and once their hormones are done doing what they need to do to produce a beautiful young lady, she will be normal, again. She will be all grown up at that point, so I will just have to accept the drama and make the most of it, before she’s gone. God, I love my babies so much. It just doesn’t seem fair that they go through an awkward stage toward the end of child-rearing, and then when they finally make it through, they’re off living their own life and you can’t hug them and love them as much as before the teenage phase. I love them, so much!!! Gasp.
Ants. It is estimated that there are, at any point in time, 10 trillion ants alive, on this planet. They can lift 3 times as much as their own body weight, and together, as a colony have the capacity of a human mind. They are smart little critters and know how to preserve their existence. Now, whether or not they will ever cease to exist in our home and or yard; that is up for debate. Given their track record, we are fighting a losing battle. So, at best, we will just have to keep our guard up, and our floor swept. Sparkling, if you will. Cinderella, Cinderella.
As for the cats. Well. I can always just break my children’s hearts and tell them that their favorite childhood pets will be annihilated by their crazy insane mother who doesn’t have the brain capacity to handle defiant, narcissistic animals. Hmm. do you see any ironic themes going on here?
Oh wait. I CANNOT forget the clothes/fat issue. I have spent countless hours, days, months and years trying to be thin and only happy when I was. I will accept my chubby stature and work harder to maintain health, not a size. In this case size is just another one of those annoyances that you just have to tolerate until you have the ability to make a dramatic change. I will run it outta me..someday soon. But, the fat will not determine my happiness as it once did.
The lesson of the day: We make our plans, but God Directs our steps.
When the mornings don’t turn out quite like we’d like, we can rest assured knowing that even small happenings can turn into life lessons that can develop some much needed character.
Enjoy the good. Endure the not so good and know that all of these things work to develop your character. I will become a better, more patient person thanks to my battle with the ants.
James 1:2-4-Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you encounter trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.
Victory over crazy Friday mornings, have I! HMMMMM (Insert Yoda voice here!)