This Stupid, Stupid Wind.

Sometimes bad days just happen.
Everybody says that bad days happen when bad attitudes are present, but I don't think that's always true. Sometimes bad days just happen--and no amount of positiveness can make them better. No amount of theraputic running, guitar playing, reading, eating (which I didn't do, thank goodness), or crying can make them less bad. Bad days come every once in a while, and we just have to stand back and take them.

I woke up this morning with every positive intention to have a wonderful Wednesday.
I did ten jumping jacks to get me moving, and went to the corner to do my little morning Bible study. I reflected a little, prayed for a good day, prayed to teach well, make good choices, and to be blessed. Feeling good, I started to get ready for my day.
I decided that I should stop dressing so casually for school. I own dress clothes and shoes--I should show my kids (and myself) enough respect to dress nicely. I even put on pearls.
Then, I washed my face. This is where it all started to go wrong.
My face has been peeling lately--I'm not sure why. I've been moisturizing it like crazy morning and night, and it's just been pink and sore and peeling. I washed it, put on moisturizer, and it was worse than it had been all last week. My eyelids were peeling, my chin was flaking, my cheeks were red. I knew if I even tried to put on makeup, it would just look like I had flakes of makeup all over my face. So I hid my peely eyelids with my glasses, and I left my face as it was (and if you've ever seen my face before I put on makeup, it's not a pretty sight. I've got what you call "really bad acne.").
It's okay, though. I look nice, I'm ready for school.
I open the door to go start my car, but it's not too cold outside, so there's no need this particular morning. I enjoy my bowl of Grape Nuts, brush and floss my teeth, grab my bag, and head out the door. I walk up to my car and I notice something funny.
My rear view mirror on the driver's side is hanging by its wires, and the red casing is smashed off and missing. Somebody hit my car, broke my mirror off, and then left it.
I sigh, get in my car, and think to myself, "this isn't so bad. I made it from Detroit to Oklahoma City without a hitch. Praise God for keeping me safe." You think I'm being cheesy--but I really did. I called my dad and asked him if insurance would cover something like this and he said he'd call and they'd get hold of me. I very carefully (because I use that mirror a LOT) drive to school.
I got to school 40 minutes early, so I can get all my ducks in a row. It's hard coming back from a 2 week vacation where school is the last thing on my mind. I set up for the day, and start to relax. My face looks pretty awful, and my allergies are making my eyes look really glassy, but kids don't notice those things, do they?
The day went by very quickly. I was very thankful for that--because I just felt so tired.
After school, my basketball girls usually hang out in my room until practice at 4:15. Today was no different. I started organizing my next two weeks--making copies and lesson plans--and one of the girls says, "can I use your phone to call my mom and tell her about late practice today?"
Late practice? What? Well, aparently, practice wasn't going to start today until 5:15 and would go until 6:45. Why didn't anyone tell me? When am I supposed to get my run in? I didn't plan for dinner, I still needed to take pictures of my car before it got dark. . .wasn't going to happen.
I made the most of the time (all 3 hours of it) and got all my copies made and lesson plans done through next Friday. That felt good.
I thought practice would NEVER end, but as all things do, it did. I got in my car to drive home. It's already too late for church, so I decide I'm going to run.
I get out of my car and look around the street to see if I can find the remains of my mirror casing. As I'm picking up the shattered pieces of my car, I start to feel really hurt. It hurt my feelings that somebody broke my car. I took it really personally.
And then Kali calls. I remember that she asked me if I could feed the dog she's dog sitting tomorrow night, but I can't. So I tell her it's going to be impossible between school, practice, and the Pistons' game tomorrow night. She asked why I couldn't do it after I got back from the game, and I said because it was 1) going to be too late, and 2) out of my way. I asked her why she couldn't do it--after all, she had taken on the responsibility. She said she was going to be spending the night in Lawton. I told her what I thought about that: basically you shouldn't make other plans if you've committed to doing something. She said "well, maybe I can find somebody else." I said, again, "Kali, it's your responsibility. You're getting paid to do this. "
(In case you don't know me very well--one of my biggest pet peeves is when people shirk their responsibilities.) "Don't commit to things you can't follow through."
I'm getting kind of upset, but then she takes the cake. "Well, I'm sorry for ever even asking you"
A guilt trip? You're trying to send me on a guilt trip for not taking over your responsibilities while you go off and do something else? No way. If I could have done it, I would have. No questions asked. But I couldn't. So she's trying to make me feel bad for not biding my time to her schedule?
Well, it worked. I was miserable. I was angry, I was frustrated, and I was tired.
I went for a run, and it all started to fall down. I ran harder and harder, and with each step I delivered more and more deliberately. And the more I pushed myself, the harder and faster the wind blew. . .in my face. Angrier than ever, I pounded through it, thinking about my skin, my car, 3 extra hours at school, shattered pieces of my car lying in the street, my sister's selfish behaviour, and this stupid wind. This stupid stupid wind.

Sometimes bad days just happen. They just start to spiral, and the only place to go is to sleep.

I have one continuous comforting promise, however:
God is in control.
That means I'm not.
Bad days will come and go, but God doesn't leave.
And I'm okay with that.