No one could connect to the wi-fi. This annoys everyone in the house, for reasons like now I can't check my email and now I can't check my Pinterest or Instagram accounts to see what KK has been up to for the last 20 minutes AND THIS COULD POSSIBLY RUIN THE ENTIRE REST OF MY DAY.
So I, being the tech-savvy solution-finder that I am, called our provider for answers. No one can connect to the internet, I say, no one can solve any world problems without the internet in their hand (SAID NO ONE, EVER). A few minutes later, technology proves itself awesome and the problem is solved. Until it wasn't anymore and I was back on the phone, only to hear could be your router or could be your ethernet cables or could be you.
Sigh. Because Apple doesn't have an easy way to call about their routers. Routers are not an option, says Apple. Routers are not important, says Apple. UNTIL YOU THINK IT MAY NEED TO BE FIXED BUT HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IS WRONG WITH IT. So I said to myself I'm a busy woman, another time, Apple, and went about my business and lo and behold THE INTERNET FIXED ITSELF which is proof enough for me that we need to take a step back and look at what we're dealing with, stat.
The good news is that we are now back, Houston. I don't know how or why or if there is a leprechaun in our house, but here we are.
The bad news is that I think there is a possibility that I am slowly becoming slightly unhinged. Like my door might be hanging at at angle. Like I might be losing it.
Here's more bad news: I'm not a nice person anymore.
On the outside I think I might still look the same, which is probably good. I smile. I chat. I guide my directionally-challenged people, even the ones who don't feel they need guidance. Or direction. Or anything at all. But there is this underlying current of, like, madness going on that makes me smile on the outside and yell GAAAAHHHHHH IT'S CALLED THE LEFT PASSING LANE FOR A REASON and IT'S CALLED AN INVISIBLE FENCE, DAMMIT inside my head. (My mind likes control and also it likes to curse at me.)
This is what qualifies me for Not Nice Anymore status.
I'm not sad or depressed, I'm angry and raging against the system of bad news and injustice and follow the rules, DARNIT and inequality and poverty and starving kids and what am I doing about it besides being comfortable and worrying incessantly about my weight (even though I know it's a flimsy veil of insecurity and an even flimsier basket to put any eggs into) and what is my responsibility and why don't my people just want to eat healthy and does anybody understand me? (I might be a thirteen-year-old living in an adult body.)
I've been failing at simple tasks, like responding to emails. Doing my bible study. Volunteering. Attending events. Chaperoning Cotillion. (Doesn't count if I was there; I actually needed to do something. I do feel bad about this. Maybe not bad enough to do it again, though.) Just keeping up with life in general. I told a friend yesterday that I feel like I am stirring many different pots but THEY ARE ALL BURNING.
I need a reset button.
...whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.
I tend to draw from my own resources. I do try really hard to be a loving person. I try to be nice. But eventually my resources run completely out and I'm reading a big, fat zero on my scale of I CAN DO THIS. And life keeps going. People keep emailing. Organizations keep asking for volunteers. But when I'm running on fumes, I fall flat. On my face. (And sometimes this is where I'd like to stay. Be cool. I promise I am mentally well.)
Jesus promises that his yoke is easy and his burdens are light. He promises rest. He promises a refreshing drink.
He is my reset button.
I just don't tend to recognize my need for a reset until I'm coughing and sputtering, completely out of gas and thirsty and needy and still pressing hard on the gas petal, thinking why am I not getting anywhere?
I'll tell you why, sister. It's called EMPTY.
And He is what you need to keep on going.