June 9, 2021
One of the things I’ve noticed
about myself lately is that my daily routines might be a tad more important to
me than probably is good for me.
In the last year especially,
it seems that all manner of unexpected happenings have the power to disrupt my
schedule and once that happens, I am hard pressed to re-establish control over
my day. My ambition flies off into the ether, and I am left to try and…adjust.
Friends, at times that adjustment isn’t easy, nor is it pretty.
It used to be that my schedule
was like a guard rail, there, just so that I could look up for a moment and see
where I was as opposed to where I was heading. These days? My schedule is more
like that strong, stout line tied between house and barn that some folks in the
mountains have installed for those days when there’s a fierce blizzard and the
snow is flying fast and furious and with no visibility. The only way not to end
up getting disoriented, lost and dead is to cling to that line, baby, cling!
Yes, that’s me and my schedule in a nutshell.
Recently I’ve experienced a
number of disruptions which, considering the monotony of the stay-at-home world
in which I have faithfully abided during this pandemic might have been
considered a nice change of pace. But of course, you have to know that is not
the attitude I adopted with these disruptions. I hope I haven’t shocked you
with that admission. I keep a positive, upbeat attitude 99 percent of the time.
It’s just when someone or something messes with my plan for the day that I tend
to kind of lose it.
One day we had a plumber booked
come in to fix our cold water tap in the bathtub. That darn thing wasn’t
dripping, it was running! He was scheduled to arrive between 8 am and 5 pm. He
called at 7:35 am to say he would be there in ten minutes. Of course, it did
work out better for us in the end, because we didn’t have to adjust the time
David was walking the dogs or napping that day, but still. I never got over the
jarring start that day gave me. Why, I hadn’t even had my first cup of coffee yet!
It took me a couple of hours to get back to my schedule, but my heart really
wasn’t in it.
Another day, I turned on my
computer, but my preferred browser wouldn’t open. The error message was one I’d
never seen before, and so I contacted the Geek Squad. Yes, I have three browsers
on this PC, but the one I like the best has all my bookmarks. And, since I am
signed on through google, hooray, the bookmarks were safe.
I kept my patience while the
original geek goofed up a couple things, but then finally I was successfully transferred
to a “technician” who would assist me via remote. Um, yeah, it was the same
geek wearing a different hat, but one really doesn’t have a choice in these
matters.
Now, some have chided me for giving
remote control to the geek squad to fix my computer issues, because…um….I guess
because I am letting THE MAN see what I’ve got here on my computer? I guess I’m
not supposed to let THEM know my business.
I think the fact that I am
Canadian and not American may speak to my attitude in this area (since it is
only my American friends who are appalled). I am not doing anything I should
not be doing, so hey, THEM can look all they like. I don’t think I am doing
anything interesting enough for anyone to take particular note of me. So they
can just look and then they can just go away, yawing with boredom, and leave me
alone.
But I digress.
It didn’t take long for the
Geek Squad technician to restore my browser, and with my permission they also cleaned
up my disc space, and within the hour I was back at the keyboard with nothing
lost but some time and, of course, the integrity of my schedule.
One would think that with the
dogs barking several times an hour on some days, I should be used to tossing my
schedule out the window. That kind of noise, or really any kind of noise, can
make it difficult for me to focus. However, for some reason, most days I can
ignore the sound of the hounds as I work—at least until David leaves with one
dog for the first walk.
Then our Bear-Bear performs The
Lament of the Left Behind Puppy in a key guaranteed to drill holes in one’s ear
drums. Every. Single. Day. But I know I’ve mentioned that in one (or more)
previous essay. And yes, he does it even if he is on my lap being petted.
My current lack of flexibility
in this area is probably just a part of getting older. Heck, I’m no where near
as flexible physically as I used to be, so it makes sense, I guess, that I’d be
less flexible, or perhaps tolerant, is a better word, in other areas.
I am working on this, I really
am, and for one reason and one reason only. You see, around September of 2019,
I was getting frustrated with all of the appointments, phone calls, errands,
that all kept cropping up. I didn’t want to go places and do things
then, I just wanted….well, heck, I thought, it would be so nice if I
could just stay home, with no need to go anywhere for anything at all
for at least a week. That, I told myself, would be wonderful, and such a nice
change.
In other words, I’ve learned
to be careful what I wish for. So when it comes to my attitude about my
schedule, all I can say is I’ve learned my lesson and I’m trying to become a more
mellow me.
Love,
Morgan
http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury
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