It all started with a stupid song. A stupid song that I happen to like and wanted to just enjoy, on our way to do a hundred errands I was in no mood to do. So my family of three piled in the car and as I started to drive I pressed play on my iPod. The song's not very long and was over before I knew it. I missed most of it because of all the chatter going on in the backseat between my husband and daughter. No worries, I pressed play again, only to hear my husband complain that it was on again. And then give his ten-second review of the song, telling me how awful he thought it was. Well, thank you very much. I slammed my hand on the power button, shutting it off, and that set the mood for the rest of the day. Oh, did I mention that when I came downstairs this morning to the smell of coffee I was told that, after my daughter's cereal and my husband's cup o' joe, there was no more milk for me to enjoy a cup of my own?
If I sound like my two-year-old crying because things didn't go my way, I apologize. I'm aware that there are bigger problems in the world. I am also aware that I shouldn't let such trivial things ruin my day, that I am in control of my happiness. But it's been a rough week, with drama and chores and a steady migraine all around me. There's been a whole lotta give and not a lotta take, and guess who's the one giving? Yep. That would be me. And I guess today was the end of the my rope.
On my last birthday I visited a psychic on a whim. I'm not saying I believe in those things (after all, why isn't she rich from winning the lottery if she's so smart?) but she said one thing that rang true: I treat people good and they don't treat me so good back. (Pardon the grammar; it's what she said.) I never really gave that much thought before she said it and I almost wish she hadn't. I don't want to know that people don't want to return any kindness, to me or to anyone. And when I spend a week trying to be all things to all the people I love, I don't want to be aware of how little I get in return. Mind you, I'm not always that deserving of getting much of anything. But after shopping, laundry, diapers, school, dishes, more laundry, listening, reading, cheering, consoling, working, more laundry, chauffering, mopping, dusting, sweeping...did I say laundry?...I guess I was hoping for some milk for my coffee.
I do count my blessings. My family is generous with their love and laughter, as are my friends. But sometimes I get lost in the shuffle of daily life and forget to ask for a helping hand when I'm overloaded or when I'm slipping. When I wonder why help or support wasn't just offered without my asking, I get resentful. I'll figure out how to stop doing this someday. Until then, please forgive me if you are on the receiving end of my frustration or if you have to suffer through my ranting about it.
Tomorrow is a new day. We bought a fresh gallon of milk and I will have my cup of coffee. I will have forgotten my grievances and gripes; they will be gone in the morning. Which, coincidentally, is the name of the stupid song that started all of this in the first place.
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