Ok let me back up and say that first of all, today consisted mostly of me going through the wringer while taking a language proficiency test for my job (the outcome of which had the potential to make or break me)...This annual test along with my twice-a-year physical fitness test through the Navy Reserves has probably shaved at least a decade off my life span. Seriously, I had cold sweats the whole time and during one portion I swear I completely forgot both the language I was testing in and my own native English.
I was scared.
Thankfully, even after a year and a half of no formal training, I was able to pass the test. While I didn't get the scores I WANTED, the were still damn good scores.
So I decided to do something else that scares me today. Just a little thing, a break in the routine just to prove to my anxiety prone self that not everything will go up in flames at every turn.
I put the eggs in the trunk. Now, if any of you grew up with parents like mine, then you'll know that you NEVER put the eggs in the trunk. They always go on the belt last and either have their own separate bag, or go together with the bread. Because eggs are fragile, breakable, icky yolk filled orbs that might break if you look at them wrong. Or so I grew up thinking. Always check for cracks and always keep them in the front seat on the ride home.
Well, Fiance thinks this is a silly idea. He has never put the eggs up front and (so he claims) has never gotten home with a broken, yolk-y mess in his trunk either.
It was just a little thing, and might seem just as absurd to all of you as well. But it was just one of those things that I've always done, and even when Fiance and I go shopping together and he insists on putting the eggs in the trunk, a part of me gets nervous and spends the whole ride home with some portion of my mind focused on every bump and turn in the road wondering if I just heard an eggshell crack.
I spend a lot of my life like this. With these little anxieties that build, one on top of the other, and I think maybe that's where so much of my stress comes from. It's not one BIG thing, it's just a bunch of tiny absurd things that snowball into a writhing mass of stress and anxious starts at every bump in the proverbial road.
And you know what? All my eggshells are fine.
|ignore the messy towel. k, thanks!|