Who wants to sit back and take what the world throws at you, instead of doing what you can to change it? This was my persistent thought.
Yesterday, though, was eye-opening. I had the day planned with work for The Big Paper, research for someone else, and then some tennis. My idea of perfect.
Our realtor called the night before, though, to announce an early morning showing. It came as the cat, post-surgery, was bumping around the house in a giant plastic cone, and the dog was sick and throwing up.
You don’t turn down showings when your house is for sale, so I put it into high gear and started whirling. I washed. I dusted. I camouflaged imperfection until I was limping on a sore foot that has bothered me for months. I finally fell into bed with an ice pack after midnight.
I woke lame, but stuck to my scheduled tennis match, too late to get a sub. A friend came to take the dog walking until the realtor left, and after getting my daughter to school and the cat behind a closed door, I jumped in the car, exhausted. It was 8:45 a.m.
I was still in control until the foot doctor called to say my heel may be fractured. Go get x-rays right now! he said. I’m on my way to play tennis, I replied. Can I go after? I won’t detail his reply.
The phone rang immediately, but this time it was my friend saying she noticed blood in the dog’s urine. Now what? I didn’t even want to play tennis, but I had no backup. You haven’t seen angry until there are only three players in doubles.
So we agreed that she’d make an appointment, I’d continue on and play, and then race home, grab the dog, and bring her in. Which I did.
Ten minutes, and $270 later, we had a diagnosis and the drugs to treat it. Poor doggie was shaking in all the uproar so I leaned down to kiss her head. At that exact moment the vet tech moved, too, though, and I kissed her hand instead.
And that’s when I started to laugh. Howl, really, completely out of control. Until I was weak and leaning on the steel exam table for support.
As a sort of kneejerk reaction, I joked to the shocked woman I kissed that I’d already had quite a day and could use a glass of wine. Until, in my confusion, I remembered I gave that up a month ago. Which made me laugh even harder as she just stared.
Yeah, I guess I’ve changed my tune some, realizing even I can’t be in the driver’s seat all the time. I can laugh, though. And I can at least control how I deal with the stuff that comes at me. So maybe a little lemonade now and then isn’t so bad.