Yesterday I was in a bad mood.
I was feeling stuck in my job, feeling like I was meant for more than what I am actually doing. I had that feeling that there is so much more out there and I am doing this?
I was counting out pens and chip clips that have our company name and logo on them. You know, promotional items. And I was thinking, this is it? All the years I’ve lived and all the experiences I’ve had and all the things I can do and all the things I know and I am counting out pens?
So I was grumpy.
But late in the day, one of the guys walked by who always stops to see what I am doing. And I expressed my frustration to him.
He told me that years ago, he had a mentor that he had said the same thing to ~ I am so much more than this. His mentor told him, do whatever you are doing the best you can and the next thing will come. The mentor told him that it worked for him and my friend said that it worked for him, too. My friend also said that one time he told a boss that he wanted more, that he wanted a promotion. The boss told him, make it look easy. Make it look like what you are doing is easy and then you will be given more. So my friend “made it look easy” and he moved on up.
So I wrote those two thoughts down on a yellow post it note and stuck it on my desk. Maybe today I won’t be as grumpy.
Last night, when I came home, my husband wasn’t here. I like that feeling! But I also get nervous when he isn’t here and I don’t know where he is or why he isn’t here or when he will show up. I’m sure you know the feeling!
It rained most of the day yesterday so he didn’t work. He did wash the dishes, though, so that was really nice. I still didn’t know where he was. I thought maybe he had decided to go out for dinner since he has that a couple of times recently.
I made dinner and watched an old Monk episode in peace.
Then he came home. He wanted to know if we deliberately didn’t save him much of the dinner. I told him it wasn’t deliberate, but that I didn’t know where he was. He said he was at work. So, whatever. There was enough left for him that he had plenty to eat.
He asked me if I had had a good day. I said, eh. I told him that I was in a bad mood almost all day. He asked me if I was feeling better. I said, a little.
Then he said, were you mad at me?
I asked, why, and he said, I don’t know.
It’s all about him. He didn’t really care what my bad mood as long as I wasn’t mad at him. There’s love for you.
You know, I am almost beyond being mad at him. Every day it’s something different and I simply feel minorly punched in the gut and I keep on walking. It still takes something out of me, but it doesn’t wound me in quite the same way as it used to. Maybe I am getting more and more numb. (By the way, did you know that “minorly” isn’t really a word? But it fits, so I am using it.)
So, yeah, that was my day yesterday. Wanting the stars, settling for counting out pens, and ending up minorly punched.