Lacking Alacrity
Low on energy, riddled with self-doubt, and plagued by bad memories, I slogged through another day of trying to create order in chaos. Then I got the following missive from my friends at simplehuman:
"Dear Ms. San Martin,
Thank you for your inquiry and we apologize for any difficulties you are experiencing with your can.
...
"
After work, I dug up all the crabgrass that had taken root in the garden. Little red beetles angrily scurried out of my hands' way. Now you can tell the dill from the thyme, so that's something. The cherry tomatoes and the regular tomatoes are going nuts. We've got to do something with those Hungarian yellow-wax peppers. I love my home; I love our yard. I love my life.
I've been working on letting go of work stuff a little bit more. I work with a lot of people who've been there for 25 years, more: some, 50 years and more. How do they do that? What's the "there" there? -- that place they can get to that allows them to deal with stress and know it's not that important? Is there something in between just punching a time-card and killing yourself just to get through the day's work? I hope so. How does one for whom failure is not an option, succeed?
These are the things I pondered today before growing sick of thinking about them. After a while it was just about the crabgrass, and getting it out of there.
"Dear Ms. San Martin..."
"Dear Ms. San Martin,
Thank you for your inquiry and we apologize for any difficulties you are experiencing with your can.
...
"
After work, I dug up all the crabgrass that had taken root in the garden. Little red beetles angrily scurried out of my hands' way. Now you can tell the dill from the thyme, so that's something. The cherry tomatoes and the regular tomatoes are going nuts. We've got to do something with those Hungarian yellow-wax peppers. I love my home; I love our yard. I love my life.
I've been working on letting go of work stuff a little bit more. I work with a lot of people who've been there for 25 years, more: some, 50 years and more. How do they do that? What's the "there" there? -- that place they can get to that allows them to deal with stress and know it's not that important? Is there something in between just punching a time-card and killing yourself just to get through the day's work? I hope so. How does one for whom failure is not an option, succeed?
These are the things I pondered today before growing sick of thinking about them. After a while it was just about the crabgrass, and getting it out of there.
"Dear Ms. San Martin..."
posted by expediency101 at 8:57 PM
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