In the meantime.

I don't do so well with things that have turned sour, gone south, nosedived, spun out of control, taken turns for the proverbial Worse. I should clarify: I don't do so well in the precise moment at which things turn. I get shaky. I immediately have to fight the urge to cry or be vindicated. I stop talking, which is equal parts blessing and harbinger of worse woes to those who know me best. (One does not want to argue with the silent me.)

In the long run, I fare much better. So what if my plants died because they got too much sun in the place to which I moved them? So what if my car fails emissions tomorrow? So what if I don't pull the grades I'd like to this semester? So what if my laundry is scattered like tiny little cotton corpses across my room, clean though it may be? I won't remember it next month, let alone next year, unless it's to laugh at the ridiculous things that happen to me (my CAR GOT EGGED!! If you have seen my car, you know that that actually might improve it a little bit. Who eggs a rust bucket?).

Somewhere along the way, I usually manage to get a grip on reality and hold onto what's important. What I've been learning lately is that I desperately need to be a bit more forgiving, a little bit more gracious, a little bit more understanding of these kinds of imperfections in me and others "in the meantime," between what's happening right here, in the Now, and what will be worth remembering Then.