|Ms. Vee on Eyes wide open|
|Becca Bear on Eyes wide open|
|Ms. Vee on Eyes wide open|
|Holistic Wayfarer on Be a better you|
|Becca Bear on Be a better you|
The cat’s pajamas
That only 10% of what you worry about is actually worth the worry. The other 90% is either nothing or you get yourself so worked up you make your outcome worse.
How accurate those numbers are or how true it is I am not sure but I do have this prime example (don’t judge me):
As most of you know I recently moved! Unfortunately, we are still not completely out of our old place because
A. we have a lot of stuff and not a lot of time or people to help us move said stuff
B. we need a washer and drier for our new place. So while we still can, we are utilizing the washer and drier at the old place until we purchase one of our own.
A few odds and ends at our old place include some bedroom accessories, cleaning supplies and a few items in the fridge.
So its after work and I realize I have a load of laundry in the drier which includes my work shirts, of which I am out of at the new place, so I definitely need to go there to get that! While there I decided to grab a couple smaller items including the stuff from the fridge (eggs and milk) because my fiance informed me this morning there is none in our new place which is why he ate ramen noodle for breakfast this morning.
Getting out of my car I grab my purse and put my car keys, luckily, in my shirt pocket. This is not so much out of habit as I had a weird feeling that I should and I’m sure some cosmic being was smiling down on me so that I would not be completely lost in this situation. Then proceed to packing various items and gathering up my laundry. I get all of the stuff together before packing the items from the refrigerator, to keep them cold, and throw it all in my car. Then, saving the best for last, I pack up the food and proceed to lock the bottom lock and close the door to the apartment. As I’m setting the box in my car I realized: my purse, both my keys to the old and new place, and my cell phone are in the apartment still.
I happened to know Russell’s (fiance) location at a local restaurant near our new place where he was spending some ‘man time’ with his friends. Panicking that my food is going to spoil, I quickly speed off that way, find him, explain the situation, make myself look like a total idiot in front of all of his friends, get his key, head back to the other side of town where the old place is, get inside, collect my stuff, and drive all the way back to the new place.
Exhausted and hungry (keep in mind this is all after work when I was already hungry), I get all my stuff piled inside and put everything in the refrigerator. As I’m going to change out of my work clothes I noticed something in my right pocket…
My key to the apartment.
Genius, right? So moral of the story is think rationally about what you are worried about (in my case spoiled milk and eggs in my car) because there could have been an easier solution to your problem. Such as checking your pocket to make sure you really did lock your keys in the apartment. Which would have saved me a lot of time, gas, and embarrassment.
As a perk to reading my story I feel like I should let you all know you are the only ones I am admitting this to. Not even Russell will hear the end of the this tale.
No matter how much I dye my hair red I will always be blond.
As of this moment I am tucked away in a quiet little hole. Much different from the chaotic, dangerous place I was in. And I love it!
Translation: we have finally moved from what could be labeled as “the ghetto” to a new place surrounded by retired old people and concrete walls/ floor where we cant hear whats playing on our neighbors tvs. And just a minutes walk away? This beautiful place:
And if we do not want to be surrounded by silence, we can just walk to the twenty bars/ restaurants across the street.
Life is good.