Remembering the Rules

Every now and again, I have the kind of day that makes me understand why someone would climb a tower with a high powered rifle.

Sometimes the sheer everyday-ness of life is overwhelming. The routine, the rituals, the sameness, all the small things that go just slightly wrong can suddenly become more than I cope with. The cats are hungry and the can opener decides to be tempermental. There's a knock on the front door and Maya explodes - for the 8th or 9th time in the last half hour. The curling iron tips over and I unthinkingly reach for it by the wrong end. The trash bag tears in mid litter box change. I just get to the car and realize that I've forgotten the mail...and it's raining. I remember to bring everything to the wedding I'm shooting except a memory card for my camera. I lose my glasses and need my glasses to find them. At the drive through I realize I have no cash. The front door closes and catches the heel of my shoe just as Maya forces her way past me to freedom. I open an envelope and give myself a wicked paper cut. I make a list for the grocery store and leave it at home. I don't write down the last check I wrote. My morning antidepressant falls out of my hand, into the kitchen sink, and down the drain. I lose just one of a pair
of favorite earrings. Halfway home, I can't remember if I locked the office door.

By themselves or one at a time, a nuisance. String them together and I remember why I take antidepressants in the first place.

The front of one of my favorite t shirts reads "Rule #1: Don't sweat the small stuff."
The back reads "Rule #2: It's all small stuff."

Easier said than done but I'm working on it.