I’m one of those people who tries hard not to dwell on things, but it doesn’t work. For example…here is my rug:
It isn’t perfect. It has a few bumps because the dog likes to run and skid on it, and the cat likes to hide all my her ponytail holders underneath it. But as for a quick glance, you wouldn’t normally notice those little bumps.
But, my rug now looks like this:
I’ve been shoving lots and lots of stuff under there, and I think it is about to hit critical mass. The silliest things set me off. Someone will say something completely harmless and in my head I go into meltdown mode. I can turn “Hi, How are you” into “Heidi, you are a tool, I don’t know why I bother with you, you are so useless.”
And heaven forbid if someone brings up a subject that I am not yet ready to talk about. I am not ready to go there yet. Yes, I have found a small corner of my rug that someone smeared some hope on:
But that is one small piece of a very large rug. A very large part of my rug has really decided that my job when I grow up is to hoard pets.
Anywho. I’m working on the lumps. I’ve resolved the big lump and told myself that there is nothing I can do about it. I have no reason to be angry, as anger changes nothing. I have mourned. I have given instructions to the only other people who I believe can do anything about it, and I have faith that the eight of them will take care of everything. I mean add the ninth in and you’ve got a softball team, right?!?!
So I am turning my focus to one lump a day. Today was big lump. I had a good cry, gave the instructions, and have moved on. Tomorrow I shall tackle another lump.
(In case you don’t listen to odd music like me, here is where the title of this post comes from)