Waiting for the tow truck
So one thing that I really wish I could change about myself is that I worry. I mean I fret and I stew over everything. I worry about the future I worry about the past, things that have already happened that I can't possibly change. I worry. I, at age 23 gave myself an ulcer. So I think the cosmos were aligned to find the husband I have. Quinn is the most easy going person I have ever met. He looks at my worrying as this weird phenomenon that is totally out of his realm of understanding. So last weekend I was fretting over my schedule for the upcoming fall semester, I had found out that I should have taken this one class that would have counted for both of my majors and now they were not offering it in the fall and didn't know if they would in the spring, and the worst part about it was my good friend had asked me many times to take it with him (yes, you told me so) so I was stewing about it. I was stressed, studying for two tests, worried about work situations, and running around trying to fix a huge crack in my windshield. So on Saturday after hurrying from work to get to Jonah's baptism Quinn noticed that my tire was a little low. On the way home he was telling me that I really had to keep on eye on it or if I hit a pot hole it could blow, literally ten seconds later it did just that. In our Sunday best we went to look for the spare. There wasn't one. To make matters worse Quinn was suppose to get a call any minute from his best friend to go light a room full of candles and flowers so he could propose to his girlfriend. (Yes he is finally engaged!) Quinn had spent all day running around getting flowers and candles to set up for the big event. So we called a tow truck and waited. Once again as I worried Quinn was just as calm as can be. (Although from the picture I don't think he liked me taking a picture of the moment) The tow truck came and we got home with plenty of time to light the candles. Now, the reason I am writing about this very typical weekend is to remind myself again that life always seems to work out just fine, and as my sister told me this weekend, "worrying is like a rocking chair, it gives you something to do but it gets you no where." Looking at my past track record in life I would think that I would have learned this by now. I have had moments in my life where I really thought the world (at least mine) would end and yet it always seems to work out just fine. Most of the time better than fine, wonderfully in fact. But I fear that this will be a life long lesson for me. In many tearful calls to my mom about this or that stress she always listens and then says oh, Kristi, it's just one of those things..., meaning life is always going to throw things at you that you have no control of, but with a little faith, it always seems to work itself out.