This is my personal mantra these days. My other one is: I cannot control what life hands me (or shoves in my face), I can only control how I respond to it.
Without going into details (less so my stomach doesn't tie in knots than to be secretive or purposely vague), our old home needs some work. And when I say "some work," what I mean is this summer we have a huge, somewhat overwhelming house project coming out that we can't avoid.
It's one of those projects that has to be done and is not a choice-- such as remodeling one's kitchen or choosing to put in new floors. Nope, this is something if we don't do, we cannot live here.
And along with this large project, comes a large price tag. It's more than I paid for grad school. I feel as if I'm putting my house through college having to pay for this and then giving it a trip to Europe to boot.
So much of this week has been about trying to remain grateful and not falling apart (falling apart is so 2001).
And if ever I start to feel sorry for myself, I remind myself that I did not experience what the people in Joplin, Missouri did. And while this is a pain in my well-rounded caboose, it's not life or death, it's not a tornado landing on my roof.
And that's the scoop, Rupe. My life minus the poetry part, the things I balance along with writing and art. It's creativity for the wallet. I'm trying my best -- Wait, I'm not trying my best, but I'm trying. As I know this too shall pass.
And right now, at this very moment, the house smells like cinnamon and all the people I love still have heartbeats.
Keep calm, make it work...