Death By Dry Cleaning

It's been a tough week in the Cooley household (oh, that's so positive!!!! Yay!!!). Rewind--let's start this over:



It's been a CHALLENGING week in the Cooley household (That's better!!!). I love the "rush" you get from going on retreats, but let's face it--when reality jumps back in, there are challenges to putting feet to your faith. I had so much fun on the retreat, and laughed like I hadn't in years. It was the perfect set-up for this month, which (no secret here) can be a hard time of the year for me. Much to my surprise, it's going well--nothing like the plummet I've faced in years previous.



There is, however, a gentle melancholy that I've noticed that kind of drapes around the shoulders. I'll walk by a picture in the living room that I've passed a thousand times, and this time, I will stop short. A deep sense of longing will come over me...a kind of abbreviated panic. Every time, I face a choice: Sit in that place, and linger? Stay busy? Pray it through? Find a glass of wine? Go to sleep? Go to church? Eat some chocolate? Every time, the decision is just as difficult as it was the time before. There is a determination, though, that I have this year that I've never had before, and I'm so thankful for it.



I've been alone a lot this week, and next week will be more of the same. Making conscious, careful decisions of what I do with my time is the challenging part, more than anything else. Eating and shopping have been favorite pastimes, and neither is an option for me anymore (and never should have been, honestly). I haven't been the best at time management this week, in my personal life, so next week I am looking for improvement.



This week, I have been called a "perfectionist" and "uptight." It hurt my feelings. I'm trying to learn that what people say to me, does not define me. The Women's Retreat reminded me that no, I'm not "uptight" when it's not related to insurance/"the job," and that being a perfectionist is just fine and dandy in the workplace, but not so good for dieting. I have to be more forgiving of the mistakes I make, and continue to laugh at myself as much at home, as I did 2 weeks ago in front of that room full of strangers, who became friends.



Point in case:



My dry cleaning almost killed me today. Seriously. I picked up a sweater from the dry cleaners (in their nice little clear-plastic-bag-over-the-hangar thing) and hung it in my back window of my car. With the windows down, I drove home from work. I could see it blowing in my rear-view mirror, so I reached up and tore off the little paper tag that was flapping around. As I made the merge onto 270, that little plastic bag became a harbinger of horror!



While picking up speed and negotiating the curve, the evil plastic bag flung itself up over my driver's seat, twisting about as though it was determined to suffocate me! I tried to roll up the windows, but it didn't work--I frantically tried to steer the car and grab the hangar, but couldn't reach it. It flipped around, I blocked it from my face (it was a white sweater, and I had just put lipstick on! Not to mention that I needed to BREATHE while driving!), and finally, FINALLY got the darn thing torn down. I managed to tear the bag off of the hangar, pull the sweater down, negotiate the merger onto 270, and NOT kill myself.



I did, however, laugh myself into oblivion.



God makes me laugh. He doesn't just LET me laugh--He MAKES me laugh. I find myself in situations so crazy, that it doesn't matter if life has thrown me a few curveballs. I'm going to laugh. Maybe not right away...but whether it's a Death by Dry Cleaning, rapping to MC Hammer, or explaining to a group of teenage girls the difference between "church booty-pop" and "club booty-pop," and which one is NOT appropriate, I. Will. Laugh.



So, that's what I'm doing as I write this. I would have been freaked to be a driver on the road next to me today--"911! There's a crazy lady flailing her arms around and a plastic bag flying around!!! She's swerving, and her music's turned up too loud!!! Sir, send a cop--she's GOT to be drunk!!!!" If you saw me on 270 in rush-hour traffic, I was sober. I promise.



But I did see my life flash before my eyes, and in it, I was wearing a Clean Sweater...and laughing.