I admit - little things make me crazy. I mean, seriously, blinkin' batshit crazy, if I let them, and too often I do. I went nuts the other day looking for the pink comb and hairbrush that I use every morning to coax the snarls that form in my children's hair overnight. I knew that if I DIDN'T FIND THAT COMB, there would be you-know-what to pay the following day as I was trying to get everyone ready for school and out the door. By the time my five-year-old found both implements I was practically foaming at the mouth, and has spent the previous twenty minutes pacing every room in the house except the one where the items were actually located, muttering and crying.
It's not a moment I'm proud of.
I find that I'm very susceptible to getting sucked into the momentary insanity, and start thinking and behaving completely irrationally. And later, I'll beat myself up over it, wishing it hadn't happened, wishing I hadn't yelled at some child or other resident of my home for doing something really dumb but minor (such as disassembling the pump of the bathroom soap dispenser such that it's now unusable), wishing I had more patience and control. And then I pray, "God give me patience," and you know what? He responds by offering yet more opportunities to practice. Such as finding someone has ripped off the plastic finger grip on the brand-new window shades... you get the idea.
Of course, the worst, absolute worst I ever get is when I'm faced with stupid technology problems. Even normal, sane, calm people become full-fledged lunatics when it comes to computer issues. You know what I'm talking about. Don't try to deny it, or I'll say "printer driver installation" and watch your blood pressure tick up just thinking about it.
I have a very good friend who is as rational and conscientious as they come. He served as a senator's chief of staff for years. Once when I told him how I had been trying to cook a grilled cheese sandwich in a skillet, and when I flipped it over it flew up into the air, turned sideways, and fell into the half-inch-wide gap between my stove and the counter, where of course it was dusty, ruined, and inaccessible. In complete seriousness, he responded, "Yeah, these so-called 'inanimate objects?' Total lie." Thus was born in my imagination the idea that there are little demons lurking about that do things like ruin your lunch, steal your comb, and mess with your computer.
It's a useful conceit when you write supernatural fiction, but what about in daily life? Well, if you have ordered a print copy of Discovering Ren, you've already discovered that the page numbers and headers my editor and I so lovingly and carefully created and inserted and proof-read the digital copy, magically disappeared. Poof. Gone. And we're flummoxed as to why. Demons, I say.
If you do happen to have one of these number-less copies, consider it a rare edition, because it's going to be fixed. And soon. ASAP, in fact. My husband says, it will encourage you to read it in one sitting! And in the meantime, I'm taking this as yet another sign that God is trying to teach me how to be patient, and to just ride out the little things. After all, the words are there and they are great. Numbers? Well, we're getting there. Peace, all.
It's not a moment I'm proud of.
I find that I'm very susceptible to getting sucked into the momentary insanity, and start thinking and behaving completely irrationally. And later, I'll beat myself up over it, wishing it hadn't happened, wishing I hadn't yelled at some child or other resident of my home for doing something really dumb but minor (such as disassembling the pump of the bathroom soap dispenser such that it's now unusable), wishing I had more patience and control. And then I pray, "God give me patience," and you know what? He responds by offering yet more opportunities to practice. Such as finding someone has ripped off the plastic finger grip on the brand-new window shades... you get the idea.
Of course, the worst, absolute worst I ever get is when I'm faced with stupid technology problems. Even normal, sane, calm people become full-fledged lunatics when it comes to computer issues. You know what I'm talking about. Don't try to deny it, or I'll say "printer driver installation" and watch your blood pressure tick up just thinking about it.
I have a very good friend who is as rational and conscientious as they come. He served as a senator's chief of staff for years. Once when I told him how I had been trying to cook a grilled cheese sandwich in a skillet, and when I flipped it over it flew up into the air, turned sideways, and fell into the half-inch-wide gap between my stove and the counter, where of course it was dusty, ruined, and inaccessible. In complete seriousness, he responded, "Yeah, these so-called 'inanimate objects?' Total lie." Thus was born in my imagination the idea that there are little demons lurking about that do things like ruin your lunch, steal your comb, and mess with your computer.
It's a useful conceit when you write supernatural fiction, but what about in daily life? Well, if you have ordered a print copy of Discovering Ren, you've already discovered that the page numbers and headers my editor and I so lovingly and carefully created and inserted and proof-read the digital copy, magically disappeared. Poof. Gone. And we're flummoxed as to why. Demons, I say.
If you do happen to have one of these number-less copies, consider it a rare edition, because it's going to be fixed. And soon. ASAP, in fact. My husband says, it will encourage you to read it in one sitting! And in the meantime, I'm taking this as yet another sign that God is trying to teach me how to be patient, and to just ride out the little things. After all, the words are there and they are great. Numbers? Well, we're getting there. Peace, all.
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