Minor Annoyances

Call me a baby if you like but in the morning, when the coffee dribbles over the kitchen counter, while I'm pouring it into a cup, I get annoyed. It irritates me when doing a thing creates another mess to clean up. Like when I pull the juice out of the fridge and the milk comes tumbling onto the floor. Here, I've already got the juice glass to wash and the juice bottle to put away but two more messes arise, clean up the milk and run to the store for more.

I am easily agitated and don't appreciate that about myself as it would be much simpler to let things roll off of my back, shrug my shoulders, do the next thing and move on. But, once one thing agitates me there are a string of them. I trip over the rug, a hair gets in my face and won't leave me alone, it feels like something is in my nostril and I want to pick it away and the internet slows down to a crawl and messes with my momentum. I have intentions of getting things done but they don't go smoothly and all hell breaks loose inside of my brain. Don't dare call me when this happens because then I don't want to talk to you.

My son called this morning, just as the internet quit working and all I could think was, let me off of the phone so that I can fix this. And he is just calling to say hi and I love you. My neurotransmitters are not firing correctly. I'm not mean but do get irritated inside of myself and it comes out as being short and mean. There are always hormones to blame - the doctor thought anti-depressants would calm them down instead of more HRT. He is worried about breast cancer. I am worried about not being a nice person. And then, when the hormone patch is drying up, I have to run to the bathroom every thirty seconds, or so it seems, and that interrupts my life. Much more so than to put on a new patch, but I'm too busy. Where did my volume of insanity come from?

I've lived alone for way too long and have forgotten how to stop and listen to someone else. STOP what I am doing and take time. I want others to do that for me so why is it so hard? There is no one for me to cook for, clean up after, discuss things with, to argue with or to help me. I'm a scrapper, always worried about getting it all done. Always over whelmed by the never ending to do list. I become single-minded but don't want to be that way.

Perhaps it is the smell of spring in the midst of this unusual Idaho winter that is causing me to have feelings of longing. I keep thinking that a shoulder to rub, a cheek to nuzzle, a warm body to wrap around, would be nice. Over whelming feelings of loneliness prevail, even in the midst of my passions. I desire love and passion of the heart.

I also desire to hug my oldest son and to wrap my arms around my granddaughters and to breath deeply of their fresh and youthful skin. I saw him, my son, the other day. He was getting a hair cut at the place right next to my pharmacy. In two years time this is the first incidence of "running into him." I stood outside and stared at him, not recognizing him at first. My eyes were glued to his expressions and his body movements, the way he interacted with the stylist. I could have stood there for a long time but didn't. I lingered in the pharmacy and then in the coffee shop on the other side of the salon, hoping to exit at just the right moment but knew that it would be pushing too hard to make our first encounter happen. I headed towards my own truck and noticed a glove under his. I stepped over and picked up the soft, flimsy fabric and gently placed it on his rearview mirror before walking off. And then I realized that the glove was my opening to telling him hello. Except that I was so nervous and scared that he'd brush me off that I was gruff and closed, not very friendly. I regret not smiling more and not saying more. I sent him a text and told him how wonderful it was to see him, how well he looked and how I wanted to hug him but was nervous. He didn't respond, he never does. But, yet, he was nice. Said hi with a friendly look. Why can't I do things right when it comes to him? I try too hard.

I love this photo of the eagle because it says, I give up. I surrender. Wave my arms in the air, above my head and let the world take its course. Find peace in my heart, contentment in my soul and let the small things roll off of my back. So what if the squirrel is stealing all of the Jay's peanuts, and the coffee dribbles on the counter and the internet slows to a crawl, it is all just a moment in time before it passes to the next. My sons and grandchildren are important, as is my heart and how I fill the dashes of my life. A reminder to slow down and enjoy what is in front of me and let the rest come when it will.