Sorry for falling off the blog map...again.
I’ve been involved with some big deal “grown up” issues the last couple of weeks so, of course, I’ve been curled in a ball, with a blanket over my head, hiding in the basement.
Where I’d still be if I hadn’t dropped that box of frozen ravioli, which alerted my neighbor who told me to go home and curl up in my own basement...and get over it.
People are always telling me to get over it.
“Relax...just take it as it comes.”
So weird, this neighborhood.
But I suppose it’s good advice, nonetheless, no matter what window it comes through.
Problem is: I’m not very good at taking other people’s advice, let alone taking “it” as “it” comes”.
And, I would hazard to guess—because, you know...guessing is dangerous business—most of you are the same way.
Because, as they say...and they say a lot...advice is cheap...especially as “it” comes.
Which is probably the one thing left that is cheap...especially if you don’t count my—.
Well, why bring that up, now?
What if the “it” sucks...sucks BIG TIME.
Do we still have to take “it” as it comes, or can we send it back for alterations?
I mean if you ordered a sofa in that semi-plush faux fur fabric that you’re partial to in green...and the one that comes, is the full-plush faux fur fabric that you’re not at all partial to in orange...you wouldn’t take it...you wouldn’t take it at all.
You’d send it back.
You’d send it back and insist on getting what you were expecting to get...right?
Of course you’d also have to expend a lot of energy and aggravation in order to correct the situation, which will lead to a lot of sleepless nights and daytime distractions, quite possibly leading to you forgetting to take your cat in for its fluffing appointment...the one that you had to make 6 weeks in advance.
I don’t know about you, but it sure seems like a lot of wasted aggravation over a couch.
Personally, I like to save my aggravation for the guy at the deli department who constantly confuses the olive loaf for the veggie loaf.
So I’ve been trying to take some of the advice coming my way, these days.
I’ve been corralling my aggravation, frustration, impatience and frustration over things that are out of my control; trying to be more Zen.
Trying to take “it” as it comes.
Understanding that the mass of men—and sometimes women—just don’t do their jobs properly and don’t really care about semi-plush vs. full-plush or the nuance found within.
If it takes another six weeks to fluff your cat then it takes another six weeks...as unreasonable as that sounds.
Especially to the cat.
I mean, do I really need another green couch?
The orange does kind of make a statement...and I’m sure I’ll find my keys in all that plush one of these days.
Something wicked this way comes...all the time.
So why be surprised when it does?
And it will pass, and it will be forgotten.
But until it does, what kind of idiots work at that furniture Store? Complete ones, that’s who...and they don’t work, that’s the problem...and is it really so hard to tell olive loaf from veggie loaf...and why can’t the garbage guy put the lid back on the can so it doesn’t blow into the street...and can the cable guy come to my house just once without telling me “it’s the box” when it’s NEVER the box...and can ANYONE return an important phone call or answer an E-mail when I NEED an answer...on anything...NOW...and can Dr. Phil just go away with Dr. Oz and spend the next couple of centuries diagnosing each other....and can Oprah and Valerie just keep the weight off and stop switching and pitching new diet plans every few months...and can....
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