My Garmin (GPS) was stolen from the glove box of my car at some wee hours this morning. I really had no reaction what so ever. I just thought, Aw, well that kind of sucks because how in the hell am I going to find my way around now?
Later, it dawned on me that I barely flinched at this news. Some stranger had gone into my vehicle that was parked in the driveway of my home and had stolen my stuff. Expensive stuff. Why is this not a big deal to me?
I pondered the fact that I hadn’t reacted and had to laugh at myself because here’s what thoughts came next.
If my husband were to use a human bath towel to dry the dog after a bath I would totally flip my shit. I would pace the house ranting, about how many times I’ve told him that the bath towels are for people ONLY and even if I hadn’t told him that a bazillion times already, that it’s just common sense not to use our bath towels for the dog. And I could do this for a good long time.
I sweat the small stuff! Regularly. The big stuff is like, whatever. Why is that? Is the big stuff just too overwhelming? Or do I instinctively know that I really have absolutely no control over the big stuff? There’s nothing I can do about it so I immediately let it go?
Here are some examples:
Small stuff: Husband takes a wrong turn and we get lost for a nano second and there is no time frame in which we need to be somewhere. ME: Flippin’ my shit.
Big stuff: We’re driving down the road doing sixty miles and hour on a main road and the hood suddenly flies up because husband forgot to latch it and he has to hang out the window to see so we can pull off to the side of the road safely. ME: Sitting in the passengers seat calmly until we get to the side of the road. I get out of the truck bent over in a fit of laughter barely able to catch my breath.
Small stuff: Husband uses the dish towel to wipe some liquid off the kitchen floor. ME: Dramatically snatching the towel away from him and storming down the basement stairs while lecturing him on the proper use of dish towels and how inconsiderate he is because now I have to do a load of laundry.
Big stuff: I hear a loud crash outside and when I look out the window, I see that the neighbors oak tree had fallen on BOTH of my cars smashing the hoods and headlights. ME: I shrugged my shoulders, shook my head and proceeded to eat my delicious, freshly made salami sandwich. And my thought was, Now we’ll have lots of good firewood.
Small stuff: Husband changes the oil in the car and forgets to put the cap back on so that when we stop to put gas in the car there is a burning smell. ME: Flying out of the car crashing the door into the garbage can, running from the vehicle and yelling, “Is the car on fire Dave? Dave! Dave! Is the car on fire?!” as all the people in the gas station are looking at me like I have just escaped from the looney bin.
Big stuff: Vacationing in Arkansas having a family get together and husband is wake boarding. When he is finished he tries to get back in the boat and someone forgot to turn the motor completely off. The prop caught his leg. He pulls himself up the ladder and I can see his knee cap. ME: I extended my hand to him with a towel ready and calmly said, “Come on honey, we have to get you to the nearest hospital. Have a seat right here, you’re okay.” He ended up with sixteen stitches on the inside of his knee and twenty-four on the outside. I got to watch the whole thing and even help. It was really cool.
Small stuff: “Uummm, where’s my purple lighter? Dave! Did you take my purple lighter?”
“I don’t think so,” as he’s digging in his pocket. “Oh wait, I guess I did.” ME: “Why?! Why do you have to take my shit? Is it so hard to put something back where you found it after you use it, especially when it’s not yours? You’re such a thief. You know it’s hard to find that shade of purple.” (Hey, stop judging me. I told you I have issues).
Big stuff: As I sit here and write this post, there is a persistent loud banging on the door. (I know what those knocks usually mean). I decide to answer it. A short, stout woman is standing there, she looks and sound like Mrs. Pool from The Hogan Family. “Hi, I have a summons here for you from Bank of America to appear in court on this day,” she points with her pen. An immediate feeling of dread washed over me and I pictured my head exploding and then I thought, Oh well, I guess it’s time to file bankruptcy, it’s not the end of the world. I take the paper from her, she asks for my name, I give it to her and she tells me to have a good day. ME: I continue to sit here and finish my post, while knowing that soon I’m going to get a good paying writing gig and finish my WIP.
Small stuff: I see a wolf spider four feet away from me. ME: Running and screaming, flailing my arms as if I’m being attacked by a swarm of bees.
Big Stuff: A bear approaches me at our camp site. ME: I walk toward him waving my finger at him saying, “Oh, I don’t thinks so Mr. Bear, you need to go find somewhere else to hang out. Now hit the road!”
Okay so I made the last part up about the bear, but that’s how I imagined it to be if that would have happened.
How about you guys? Am I the only one who sweats the small stuff? And why do you think that is?
Oh! I did get a good chapter idea out of the whole incident. Ya know, the GPS being stolen.
Update: As I sat here ready to publish this post yet another knock at the door. It was a nice older gentleman holding the Garmin in his hand. I stared at him speechless. All I could say was, “How did you know it belonged here?”
“You put your home address in there. That was a smart thing to do.”
We talked for minute and I asked him where he found it. It was down by the park on the ground. Him and his wife were walking the dog and there it was.
Strange. I guess I could sit here and ask why, but I have learned that asking why is a straight path to the insane asylum and I really don’t need any more help with that.
Now I can only hope that the courts and banks are just as gracious.
Until next time…