I’m sitting in the car writing this on my phone, which I hate doing. I need a keyboard in my life. My thumbs just don’t move fast enough.
I’m spending most of my day in the car actually, as I have appointments and people who need rides and such and there’s just no point in going home. Therefore, I type on my phone, sacrificing comfort to get content out on a Monday.
I had a good weekend. I spent Saturday with Hubs and Kev at the beach, then we went out for dinner. On Sunday, Mark and I went fishing for a bit, then had dinner with my parents.
I wanted to write about falling down. I fell twice this weekend, once in Lake Erie as a massive wave took me out at the knees, and again the next day when I tumbled into Caz creek. The first fall resulted in a cut on my foot and me crawling my way to shore. I don’t have great luck at beaches. I either get injured, lose my glasses (not one but two pair have sunk to the bottom of the lake in my lifetime, ) get sunburned, or nearly drown. I love the beach, but I always seem to find misfortune there.
The second fall resulted in soaked clothing and a twisted ankle. I was able to walk it off, but I did drive home drenched from the waist down.
Falling down in the physical sense is not as bad in my opinion as falling down in the metaphorical sense, which I feel I have been doing lately. I am desperate for a job, yet unable to find work I can accomplish. Mark works his butt off but still we have a mountain of debt and live paycheck to paycheck. I feel like I have fallen flat on my face, and to be honest with you, it really pisses me off.
I hate that my worries are financial. I have never cared about money. I just want to make enough to live on, and maybe be able to put something away for emergencies. My dreams are realistic, but seem very far off from where I am right now. It feels like failure is lurking around every corner.
Sure there’s plenty going well. The kids are happy and healthy. Hubs and I are fine. My writing is good. Positives abound, but I am inclined to focus on the negative, and who ever said money doesn’t buy happiness doesn’t know what it’s like to cancel the cable.
So I have fallen in many ways, or at least I feel as such.
I am not going to wallow. I am not going to stay there lying on the floor in misery. I will stand up. I will brush myself off (or wring out my clothes as the case may be) and wade my way back to shore carefully and deliberately. I will not take this lying down.
I mean, that’s what my head says. Then comes the voice that I call “crazy brain,”
See, there’s crazy brain and sane brain, and most of the time sane brain is in charge. But worrying? That’s crazy brain’s department. She loves jumping to conclusions, imagining worst case scenarios, and generally doing all she can to mess with my day. She’s the one who tells me that I’ll never find a job I can do. She’s the one who yells at me to go to bed during the day instead of dealing with my deperssion, but keeps me up at night to wallow in it. Shes the overreactor, the trouble maker, the one who can’t control the volume of her voice.
Sane brain is obviously more put together. And 90 percent of the time, she’s in charge. But when it comes to my concerns, crazy brain always jumps in to blow everything out of proportion.
I must find a way to keep sane brain in charge. She’s the one that knows I can find the right opportunity if I just keep looking. She’s confident that I will find a way to stand up after every fall. She pushes me to get back up, and most of the time it works.
All in all, I had what amounted to a beautiful weekend, but I also had these gnawing worries at the back of my head, making me trip up and forget that falling down is a natural part of life. Kev’s mom used to have a magnet on her refrigerator that read “this too shall pass,” and I thought about it a lot this weekend. I suppose it shall.
Just gotta try to stand up on two feet.