Discombobulated

This morning, I woke up feeling directionless, discouraged, disconnected, and discombobulated. Blah might be the word for it.

I wondered, what I’m doing with my life? I feel like a hamster running on a wheel, never getting anywhere. At least it’s getting some exercise. Not only am I going nowhere, I’m getting fatter. Just super.

Serving up breakfast and figuring out what I needed to do for the day seemed laborious. Taking my car to get my tires rotated and balanced just wasn’t an appointment I was really excited about keeping. But it needed to get done.

I sat outside with my mask on, waiting for my vehicle to be serviced. At first, I was all bothered that I was being so sad and pathetic. I needed to get my act together. Whatever that meant.

The constant traffic flow surprised me, especially since the tire place was accepting appointments only. And I assumed they spaced the clients apart, for the social distancing thing. One older guy stood right outside the garage, right behind his car, and watched the mechanic work. Under normal circumstances, that would be discouraged for safety reasons. This huge pick up truck with all kinds of stuff in the back drove by, with a huge metal cross right behind the cab. It could have been the size of the truck bed. It was that big. I wondered whether the guy was just passing by and why he drove through the parking lot to do so. He ended up circling back and getting out at the far end of the place. He had some bright colored shirt on with the word “Jesus” in bold black letters across the chest.

After people-watching and writing some notes in my planner, a realization smacked me over the head. A firm nudge is more like it. Why am I in a hurry to get to feeling “better” or differently?

Maybe, just maybe I should pause and note what’s going on now.

It’s July, and this COVID-19 thing has been going on since March. That’s four months. And we’re still not anywhere close to being in the clear. At least not here, not in this country.

During that time, I had to continue working, while the kiddos switched to remote learning. That was over-the-top stressful. I had a stress headache that lasted over two weeks because of that. It was impossible to juggle working, writing, schooling, in addition to all the other regular responsibilities.

In the meantime, somehow we’ve turned this mask-wearing thing into a political issue. Republican or Democrat. Liberties or freedoms being robbed. What nonsense.

Wearing a mask is being kind and loving. It’s a non-partisan, non-discriminating act of kindness and love. We do it, not for our own comfort and delight. We wear masks to protect others and in the interest of others. It’s a selfless act we can do. And it’s the only way, along with social distancing, we can get this COVID-19 under control.

We’re fighting about this stuff, when we could be combating this pandemic together, as a global community.

None of this is easy. I’m weary and moody from not socializing with my friends and not being out. Ordinary life experiences are being stretched, warped, and tested in ways that are unpredictable and difficult. I’ve decided, where I am is an okay place to be.