Friday, May 16, 2014

"Relax, Nothing is Under Control."

The other day, when my neighbor was over, she asked me to show her the dress I wore to officiate my friends' wedding. I reached into the closet to get it out and it wasn't there. "Ohmygosh," I thought, and I began to panic. I thought I lost it...but then I remembered that it was at the fancy dry cleaners in Santa Fe.

Usually, I remember these things sooner. In general, I'm pretty good at knowing where my stuff is.

But not lately. Recently, the post office has been returning paychecks to one of my employers, even though my address is written correctly on the envelope. I left my favorite scarf at my client's house, I found a typo in my latest piece for Vapour, Conoco charged my debit card twice when I only got gas once, and the lady who's fixing the zipper on my favorite hoodie is never in her shop when I go by to pick it up.

When I even think about trying to keep track of all of this stuff, let alone manage it, in addition to all of the other parts of my life, I get overwhelmed. "Relax, nothing is under control," may not be the best reminder for everyone all the time, but it pretty much always is for me. All I can do is my best, and then, all I can do is let go

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