Upon entering the laundry room this morning, dismay accompanied me as I noted unfolded towels in the basket. I’d totally forgotten to fold them on Wednesday! Panic knocked my pulse up a beat as I shot a glance at the washer to see if I’d left a load of wet clothes in the machine. I don’t do this often, but there’s nothing worse than damp clothes sitting for several days. Fortunately, the drum gleamed in emptiness. My next response, of course, was to check the dryer for a load. Today, a set of sheets tangled inside—dried. What a relief! Occasionally, I’ve left wet clothes in both appliances, which ripples down into a wash-redo. I take comfort in the fact that many loads of laundry remain forgotten by other people. My lapse in memory doesn’t indicate anything more serious than absent-mindedness caused by a busy day or interruption in routine. The proof for the commonality of forgotten loads rests with the option on all machines: FRESHEN UP.
My internal dialogue all
day yesterday ran something like this, “You’re
okay. This round of tests, and the additional bite out of our budget, is just
one of life’s little obstacles. You’ve handled much worse with ease. You’re
okay.”
I
had talked to my doctor, and her calm reassurances that micro calcifications usually end up being benign meant I
slept soundly last night.
Then today started with
paying bills. No matter how much money we have coming in, the act of doling it
right back out again kicks up my stress level a tad. I ran my calculations for
the remainder of the month, decided to go for broke on our attempt to lower
levels on a charge card, and freaked when I realized one bill edged higher than
I had predicted. I didn’t realize it, but that little stress meter inside
clicked up a notch as I ran the numbers.
A quick run to the bank
added to my anxiety, too. My son has always used a savings account. He figures
it’s just a step or two harder to get to your money, and thus a little easier
to keep money. However, recent events have made it necessary for him to add
checking to his account. As we opened this account when my son was seven, both
David and I can access it. I told my son that I’d run into the bank and make
the changes because I already needed to make a deposit to my account. Of
course, I forgot to bring the check I wanted to deposit!
The littlest things, when you’re
balancing too much, trigger tears. One more mishap that I didn’t expect, a
chore that still needed to be done, and that forgotten check still sitting on
the counter proved too much for me.
As I dissolved into tears, I
retreated to my bedroom because I don’t want Mom to see me cry. She often feels
that her needs overburden us, so I try to protect her on the few times I feel
life’s overwhelming me. David grabbed the vacuum cleaner to haul to our son’s
house (we share a vacuum and all the lawn tools between the two houses) and
dashed back to the bank to deposit the forgotten check. When he returned, he
fixed everything. I don’t know how, but he’s able to spend a little time with
me and point out how nothing’s really
that bad. He reminded me of some of our other hurdles that we’ve survived.
My
little bout of tears today means I’ll be fine tomorrow because “after all . . .
tomorrow is another day.”
