I am promptly admitting to myself that I have been wrong in letting some character defects be powerful and swollen. Swollen character defects. Yuck.
1 A few weeks ago, my car broke down in a big way. I have an old car with over 86000 miles on it, and the transmission went. I’ve had two new cars in my life, the rest have been used when I got them, and I’ve never had a car payment. In theory, I believe in buying slightly used cars, since they depreciate so drastically, and driving them into the ground. I spent over $2000 getting my car fixed and renting one in the meantime. Now, driving to work and back (which are the only places I really drive to), I’m constantly certain that something feels wrong and something is wrong with my car. Driving home today, in high wind, I actually had waves of awful fear, feeling like the car would go out of control at any moment, and break down, then what??? Then I would call AAA, and have it towed, and deal with it. But still. I tried telling myself that it was working at that moment, the only moment I know about it, the only moment I need it to work. I listened to the news and Christmas music and books on CD to get my mind off of the car. I dread getting back in it tomorrow. Still I’m not taking it to be checked just yet because it is working, I just spent a lot on it, I need it to get to work and I need to plan a time to take it when I can work from home for the day. That day is not tomorrow. So fear, fear of the car breaking down and of paying the money for a new one. Money I have, but, I think, I should not spend most of what I have saved on a car. And not just yet.
2 My daughter’s car, she tells me, is making a funny noise. I also just spent big bucks on her car, right before she got in a bad accident and needed to have the car fixed further. She’ll be driving her car over 300 miles with two cats in the cold and snow to visit. While she has the car here, I’ll have it checked for her, and repaired if needed. But she’s got to make it here with it. More fear.
3 The agency I work for serves people who have mental illness and mental retardation. They run a program at Christmas where they give gifts to children of clients who are in need, or clients themselves who are in need. The first two times they sent out emails asking for sponsors and donations, I ignored them. The third time, when they said they did not have enough sponsors yet, I wrote a check. I wrote on the form that I wanted to remain anonymous as a donor. Yesterday, I followed the link in my email to my company newsletter and saw, on the first page, a list of donors, and my name was not among them. But neither was “anonymous.” See, if “anonymous” had been listed, at least some people might wonder if I had given. This way is just looks like I didn’t. I asked not to be listed. I’m glad they didn’t list me. I still want credit, or at least I don’t want to be looked upon as someone who did not contribute to this. Hello pride.
4 I have to work tomorrow, and tomorrow night I have to go to a party. I’m pleased to be invited to and able to attend a party. But Carole won’t be super available, and our weather is freezing, so the dog won’t get walked as much as I would like, and she won’t get taken to the park, and we’ll be leaving her most of the day and most of the night and I feel guilty and worried. Add to my list: anxiety.
5 Finally (and I’m just listing the big ones, not the million little ones) there is the cold and the snow, and the slippery roads and the hazardous walks and rides. The pretty pretty snow just falls and falls. But I have places to be and things to do. Anxiety.
I want, in my mind, to jump ahead to that magical time in the future when the weather isn’t scary and the cars are running well and the dog is well exercised. Even as, of course I know, that tomorrow has it’s own troubles, and all these are luxury problems, that along with them I am mostly happy minute to minute, that this moment is exquisite, and that this, too, shall pass.