I met with my new therapist recently. In my 55 minute synopsis of my life I shared my unique ability to have bizarre experiences that no one else seems to understand. You know those ones where people say “only you guys”? She countered that maybe we reap what we sew and that in fact the craziness is a vibe of concoction sent out into the universe to attract the chaos. I’ve pondered on this. Have I really spoke this cacophony of chaos into existing? Have I called out to the gods of sanity and made a request for my axis to be shifted? It made me feel powerful and pitiful. Who would request such zoomies into their life? And then this happened and it reminded me, weird stuff just happens to us.

I guess being dubbed K-Bomb at the ripe young age of 19 set me with a nickname that will forever perfectly encapsulate my essence. I’m a go big or go home kinda girl. I cheer loudly. I love fiercely. I mourn soulfully. So everything that happens, well most everything is a small show within our three ringed circus.
Do I really think I have magical powers? I wish. Do I believe that with live with such tenacity that we race around our personal world running into chaos and creating the “spin“ that keeps everyone questioning their sanity? I dunno. What I do know is that cleaning your blinds should not end up looking like they did today.
Three dogs, several kids, 2 full time working parents… household maintenance though high on our list of priorities is often bumped by immediate needs. Rides to school and soccer. Working 7 days a week. Feeding people. These all take precedence to the dream tidiness we long for. The one day dream.
So today, I had time. I was thrilled. I will clean the kitchen blinds that have dog snot on them where little creatures try to investigate the squirrel stalker and bunny jaywalker that invade out yard. Normally I just wipe them down, scrub the sills and call it a day. But today a voice in my head… one I need to learn to ignore… said “hey take those down. They are due for a good scrub”. And despite the several signs from the heavens above – a falling metal sign on my head, the spring and fly movement of the plastic thingie that holds the cover thingie in place, and the twisty rod pole dohicky nailing me in my eye… I proceeded.
I washed. I scrubbed. I enjoyed the cleaning and lavender scent that filled the air as I washed the one set of blinds. One. Is that even a set? It was one window. That’s as far as I got, for as I took them outside to dry in the sun each plank slipped from its place. “Good golly” I screamed (I’m working on appropriate outbursts) soon followed by “don’t tell Dad”… as if the man would care. As if he would come lumbering home from the grocery and loose his avocados. “You didn’t go to engineers school” my youngest pointed out. Ya think!
So, I finally got them “hung” and then restrung the planks. Good as new. But only in time to finish before work had to start. Moral here? Don’t take on more than necessary, especially when your plate is already full and running over.

Thankfully as always, my tribe is there to remind me this is just my ride on the carousel of life.The picture is now entitled “My Life in Still Art”. A good reminder that even when it looks like it’s impossible to fix. Even when your heart is racing with fear of how to get out of this mess you’ve created. Even when you aren’t an engineer. If you keep your sanity, eventually you’ll get it and you’ll be all the wiser.