...And then you hit a pole
Do you ever feel like you are your own worst enemy?
I seem to have the amazing ability to walk into walls and trip over my own two feet. I spill and I brake things - and I can't blame it on my toddler stage, because let's face it, that is far behind me. I have seriously considered never shaving my legs again, because I don't want another little cut on my leg.
It is almost as if I have found enough patience to deal with spilled milk and grumpy children, the semi that is stuck in an endless three-point turn the middle of the street and the sore throat that never seems to heal; but when it comes to stubbing my toe -- that's it, I'm through. I have so little patience for my own clumsiness.
For example, the other morning I went to walk the dish. And more than that, I invited someone I casually know from James school -- my attempt to reach out. So, I was feeling good - exercise and a friend - you go girl. But, it was in that very moment, that I hit an invisible pole. I was parking on the side of the road, and I swear that it didn't exist. I saw a pole five feet away, that I wanted to be sure to avoid, but the pole that I hit, well, I didn't see that one. But, trust me, the dent is proof that even if it was invisible it had some serious wrecking capacity. And then, I felt silly and embarrassed and definitely mad at myself. Why? When there is so much on my plate, must I go and do ridiculous things. I was busily balancing childrening, cooking, working, family-ing, soccer playing, book reading, bookbinding, mentoring, teaching, churching, visiting, volunteering, James schooling, running, Bachelor watching, cooking...I don't have space for body shopping on my mom's new car. Oh, did I mention I was driving my mother's car? I know, I sound like I am in high school, but it's true. I dented a new car. New and not mine. Sigh.
Life's a...and then you hit a pole.
.jpg)
.jpg)
