Sometimes It’s Best To Walk Away
Last week we had a new washing machine delivered. In the end, the old machine was gone and the new one was in its place. However, the process was not smooth. There was a serious lack of spacio-logistic planning, the correct parts were not included, attitudes were more Eeyore than Pooh, and so on. By the time it was over, I was not filled with the milk of human kindness. I still tipped the delivery fellows as it wasn’t their fault – mostly – but I was not a happy camper.
Once they were finally down the driveway, I went to feed lunch. Rodney took one look at me and wouldn’t come anywhere near me to get his meds. He’s usually quite amenable about this, despite the bitter taste. I wasn’t mad at him, but my feathers were ruffled, and he wasn’t having any part of it. I achieved lunch, but decided to skip his afternoon exercise.
He was probably right. Even once I calmed down, if the slightest thing had gone wrong I would have started foaming and gibbering, thereby setting everything back a month. In an ideal world, I would be in control of my emotions. In this fallen world, the best thing we can do is recognize when we are vulnerable to malfunctions.