One of my favorite sayings has always been, “Stop the roller coaster, I want to get off!” Meaning of course that I’ve had enough of a wild ride and I’d like to switch to the tea cup ride instead. It seldom happens, but every once in awhile I get a “tea cup” moment. I love those.
We’ve got a little stress situation going on here. It’ll be weeks before it’s settled and we know which direction we’ll be charging down, so being the worry wart that I am, I get to haul the fear around with me. I hate that. I need to find a way to deal with these emotions before I EAT EVERYTHING in sight.
I’m still working out and physical therapy for my hip is going well. Sadly, the PT I’ve been seeing has left and on Monday I’ll be meeting the new PT named, wait for it…Hans. “I’m here to PUMP you UP”. Do you remember Hans and Franz from Saturday Night Live? Yes, I am that old.
I’m a little fearful of what this new PT might have to offer. The other one, whom I’ll call the Yoga Master, was a runner. He didn’t make me feel self conscious and he encouraged me in my running endeavor. He made me feel like I could beat my bursitis and run. I admit he told me I won’t be running a 3K at the end of September, but he did say, “spring”. I may run in the spring. I’m holding on to that moment. That’s a tea cup moment.
The other moment happened just last night. My Beloved is a perfectionist, which is really funny to me. He’s a picky about the type of coffee, tea, and water he drinks. He prefers (strongly) one brand of dark chocolate over another. His workshop kinda freaks me out, everything has a place.
I’m not a perfectionist by any stretch of the imagination. Don’t get me wrong, I have my issues, but making sure I get a particular brand of coffee isn’t a big deal to me. Last night, as we drove home from the grocery store, he was explaining why he liked one brand of dark chocolate over another. I laughed and said, “You’re such a perfectionist! So, picky! How on earth did you ever end up with ME?”
Without missing a beat he explained why I was the perfect choice for a wife. I won’t even write what he said, but when I pointed out that my body is falling apart, my hair is turning grayer by the second, and my face is sliding off my skull he said,
“I think you’re beautiful. In fact, I think you are much prettier now, then you were twenty-one years ago.”
The roller coaster is climbing to a dizzying height and I’m holding on with both hands. It’s nice to know in the midst of all the jerks and turns of this ride we call life, that my Beloved always has an extra ticket for the tea cup ride. I adore that.