shinin down like water

The first few months of being a solo homeowner have been fraught with Interesting Situations. You know, things that people say build character but really just kind of suck. Two power outages in thirty days (leaving me deeply concerned about the capability of good ol’ Detroit Edison’s mouldering infrastructure to sustain their huddled masses during what the 2015 Farmer’s Almanac promises to be another spectacularly heinous winter) and an air conditioner that crapped the bed during the only three days of the year in which I really needed it. Last weekend I had to sneak into the Y during a power outage (the Y had power, but was closed for maintenance, mind you) and, as part of a phalanx of disheveled women who couldn’t bear to face their weekends with bedhead, defy bewildered workmen to blow dry and straighten my hair before a social engagement.

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Ever since I crashed and burned during my big presentation opportunity a few weeks ago, I’ve been discouraged and demotivated at work. The last several days all I want to do at the office is plan my running schedule, check Instagram, chat with friends, and read snarky online gossip about a popular blogger that I am a wee bit fascinated with currently.

I have to remember, though, in the midst of these cycles of low energy, that I’m not only really lucky to have a job that allows me to BE a solo homeowner and a single mom, I’m lucky to have a boss who sends us home early on a bad weather day to spare us bad traffic and potential risk to our well-being. The same boss who lets me work from home on the first day of school and when the dudes need to come fix my air conditioner and prep my furnace and chimney for another polar vortex.

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So, after a departmental offsite at a nearby seminary that has been converted to a conference center (and a Catholic golf course – true story – I wish I’d snapped a pic of the huge painting of Pope John Paul that presides over the concierge desk), I did a brief meditation at the on-site reflecting pool. I am not Catholic but I love the beauty and dignity of Catholic icons and rituals. I could have hung out in the chapel for a long time, soaking up the Romanesque architecture. However, the driveways were already awash, so I dodged raindrops to head home.

Investigating the flooding in my yard in ballet flats was likely not a great idea, but at least I had a slicker.

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There’s something about the combination of the religious surroundings and the weather today that has reminded me to be grateful for my blessings.  The social engagement that I broke into the Y to prepare for last weekend ended with my gutters being fortuitously and unexpectedly cleaned, and this afternoon, as I watched the brown rainwater burble merrily out of my clean downspouts, feet damp and cold in my wet flats, I am again reminded that in the weird intermeshing of little details and large weighty matters, things usually do work out.

 

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