So how was your week?
As for my week...well, color me frazzled.
Oy.
"Like a candle in a hurricane"...
Exactly.
And then God spoke to me. Through Rascal Flatts. OK, through a song on the radio by Rascal Flatts.
Yes, I believe God speaks to each of us wherever we are. This afternoon, he spoke to me while I was sitting in the car, moping, staring out at the dismal day, waiting for John after work. And then on came this great song by Rascal Flatts...and it strengthened me...
I can't believe I've only just heard of it...
You feel like a candle in a hurricane
Just like a picture with a broken frame
Alone and helpless like you've lost your fight
But you'll be alright
You'll be alright
Cause when push comes to shove
You taste what you're made of
You might bend, till you break
Cause it's all you can take
On your knees you look up
Decide you've had enough
You get mad, you get strong
Wipe your hands, shake it off
Then you stand
Then you stand
Life's like a novel with the end ripped out
The edge of a canyon with only one way down
Take what you're given before its gone
Start holding on, keep holding on
Cause when push comes to shove
You taste what you're made of
You might bend, till you break
Cause it's all you can take
On your knees you look up
Decide you've had enough
You get mad, you get strong
Wipe your hands shake it off
Then you stand (then you stand)
Yea, then you stand (then you stand)
Everytime you get up
And get back in the race
One more small piece of you
Starts to fall into place, yea
Ooohhh
Cause when push comes to shove
You taste what you're made of
You might bend, till you break
Cause it's all you can take
On your knees you look up
Decide you've had enough
You get mad you get strong
Wipe your hands, shake it off
Then you stand (then you stand)
Then you stand (then you stand)
Yea, then you stand (then you stand)
Yea (then you stand)
3 comments:
What's making you sad?
Gee, anonymous, so kind of you to inquire...
And it has nothing to do with Sen. Obama coming in second in New Hampshire, if that is what you are thinking...plenty of primaries left. And he only lost by two percent, despite Hillary's tearful ploy, er, plea, for votes.
Actually, it's not so much a matter of feeling sad, as it is feeling overwhelmed...
By life. By my life right now. By the simple act of having to get up every day, walk the dog in sub-zero temps, ice and snow, feeding the cats, getting ready for work, going to work, whirlwind day at my job at an appliance warranty call center, coming home, eating dinner, doing the dishes, walking the dog in sub-zero temps, ice and snow, feeding the cats, getting ready for bed, going to bed, not sleeping all that well, getting up, walking the dog in sub-zero temps, ice and snow, feeding the cats, getting ready for work, going to work, whirlwind day at my job at an appliance warranty call center, coming home, eating dinner, doing the dishes -- and the laundry (forgot that) - and paying bills (forgot that), walking the dog, feeding the cats, getting ready for bed....
You get the picture.
Maybe it's the feeling that I am on a treadmill, a mere survival treadmill, and life is zipping by, and there is no time...no time...or maybe it's just midlife malaise...you know, your basic Peggy Lee, "is that all there is?"
It's the proverbial home stretch, dahling, and quite frankly, it's challenging. More than challenging, some days.
Yes, I am thankful that I have a job, a roof over my head, a healthy child, and that I am alive.
But am I alive AND kicking? That is the question. Or is that too much to ask?
OK, so maybe I'm just whining...
At any rate, Rascal Flatts' song inspired me.
Thought maybe someone else out there might need some kind of boost, as well.
So I posted the lyrics.
Now, I know Peggy Lee also sang "If that's all there is, then let's keep dancing. Let's bring out the booze and have a ball.'
But is that practical? I mean, really? Is that a realistic solution?
Nay. Nay.
Here's reality. My reality:
It appears I'll be setting the dancing shoes and the margaritas aside and, once again, attempting to clean the basement.
And that's OK.
That's real life.
In the light of day, it's all good, it's all ok. After a good night's sleep, things always look better.
After cozying up with a cuppa joe -- heavy on the creamer -- and CBS Sunday morning, nothing -- even cleaning the basement -- can throw me into the winter doldrums.
At least not for today. Not for this hour.
Carpe Diem, and all that.
Bottom line, dahling? It's my life post-50 -- dizzying and overwhelming one moment, boring and spiritually demoralizing the next.
Well, gotta go. Hubby has the breathing masks from the hardware store so we don't die from black mold lung or whatever one gets from cleaning one's icky basement...
Up Next: My Life In Totes
We're still waiting for the next installment, Annie...your life in Totes.
I've been reading, not commenting, but thought I'd pop by and give you an update.
Working for BSA, the FIRST decent job I interviewed for, they gave it to someone else (oddly, someone I used to work with), didn't work out, hired me....blah blah blah. LOVE IT! There's something to be said about working with a bunch of grown up Boy Scouts. Came out the other day and my boss was scraping my icy windshield! Holy cow! I was married for 14 years and no one ever scraped my windows before!
Working a part-time night job waiting tables and another part-part-time job cleaning apartments for my landlord. All is well, although the Jeep is acting up a bit.
Things are looking up...kids are great, weather sucks, I'm okay.
Gotta go.
Luv,
Petunia
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