Thursday, March 19, 2009

It's the little things...

Yesterday was a GREAT day for me. Good things happened, and I had what I really think is my first epiphany. Normal day at worky (not really, but that's another post) and I had a GRE tutoring session at 5:30. I get off work at 4:30, so that gives me about 20 minutes to get home and feed the dog, then get to tutoring at a small university about 30 minutes away. I thought I had way more GRE work due than I actually did, so I was going to take a one hour lunch and crank through some more homework during that time. I ended up not taking my lunch, so I emailed the tutor and told her that I didn't get done all the work, but would be all caught up for our next session on Sunday. I left for site for my 4 pm shuttle run, came back to the office at about 4:15, and I'm thinking things will be all on schedule. As I come back into the office, one of the Site Managers is at about a 4 out of 5 on the panic scale. His tradesmen's paychecks come every Wednesday and they hadn't been delivered. He called FedEx, who said that they were delivered and signed for before 10 am that morning. The person who signed for it wasn't anyone who worked for us. I go onto FedEx's website to track the package, which has been delivered to the BMW Performance Center, about 1/2 a mile up the street. Time is ticking by for me to get outta the office at 4:30. I call the local number in the Yellow Pages 4 times, and every time I end up speaking to someone in California. On the 4th try I wise up and explain my situation, and say I need to talk to any live person at the actual Performance Center. I'm transferred to a very nice woman, who tells me that the mail room guy has gone home for the day, but she will check the mail room for me. This is about 4:40. By 4:55 I haven't heard anything from her, and I'm freaking out that she will go home before this is resolved. I call again and speak to another woman, who is magically in close proximity to woman #1. I hear them talk about calling the mail room man at home, what the mail room dude said, another phone call that was made...this lady wants to get this done. Woman #2 says they will figure it out and call me back. A few minutes after 5 the phone rings; they've found the envelope! YAY! I drive over there to pick it up at the front desk, where woman #2 says she'll leave it. As I'm picking it up, woman #1 comes to the desk and I thank her times ten. She really didn't have to put all that effort in and yet she did. Woman #2 comes up to me and I shake her hand and thank her. Here is where the epiphany kind of starts. Both women are young (in their mid 30s) and very, very professional and very, very nice. Woman #2 has 2 big cookies in her hand, bottled water and 2 fancy tea bags. Woman #2 tells me that she can tell that I'm stressed and that some sugar might make me feel better and tea is supposed to calm you down. I laugh and say thanks. I get into my car (it's now about 5:20) and realize that I am so keyed up that a stranger is telling me I need to calm down. Sure, the food was probably left over from a conference that afternoon/ was free from their company kitchen/ was 2 weeks old. Doesn't matter. I literally took a deep breath and realized that my plans are so petty and trivial and stupid, and not one good thing will come from me worrying and getting upset. This is the second time in 4 days that someone who is basically a stranger inferred that my level of worrying is abnormal. (On Sunday at our first GRE tutoring session, the tutor told me that she would gladly give me an extra hour of coaching on how to take the test because she could tell I would get really nervous about it). I worry about everything. I worry about money all the time. I worry about my family. I worry about John. I worry about my education. I worry that I'm not skinny enough. I worry that my wedding will upset my parents. I worry about being a mother. I worry about John being a father. I worry about buying a new house. I worry about selling this house. When someone goes away I worry that they will die before I see them again. I have an IUD and I worry that I'm pregnant. Often I can feel my mind running around and I really don't think that I can control it.
My grandmother does this, too. She has been on anti-anxiety medicine for several years. When she worries, she shakes and can't talk. You don't even have to ask her if she's worrying; when someone talks about something that worries her, her chin and lower jaw start quaking. And the woman worries about EVERYTHING. When I sent her a Valentine's Day card and she didn't have one for me, her jaw started trembling. My Mom doesn't worry that much, but apparently Mom Mom has been a worrier all her life. It's an annoying cycle. I ask John all the time, "What can I do to be better? What can I do to make you happier?" and he usually tells me to not worry so much. Then I worry about being a worrier, and therefore being a bad wife. I have a psychiatrist appointment later on this month and I hope to get on medicine for this. This makes John SUPER happy. When my parents were down here last weekend, John asked my Mom if she was a worrier, and asked several questions about Mom Mom's worrying. I often feel like I can't stop it: both that my mind is out of my control and that if I stop worrying then something that I haven't planned for will go wrong and I won't know how to fix it. I've been praying alot about this, too. I know God wants me to be happy and to not worry. I read the Bible, I pray, I actively try not to worry, and it still consumed me. Sitting in my car that afternoon, I just felt glorious and content and weightless. It was a beautiful early spring day. The trademen would get their paychecks. I wouldn't go to tutoring. Que sera, sera. My life is so little and short. There is no reason to NOT celebrate each day. Why should I only push my own agenda and only worry about my teeny tiny little world? I'm here to glorify and praise God, to be a good daughter and a good wife, maybe to be a mother, maybe to make a difference to health care policy. My life is good and I know it. I want to be like Paul in Philippians 4:11. I want to be content no matter what state I'm in.
I'm still going to the doc later this month, but my new outlook is wonderful.

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