The Ship Is Not Sinking

Yesterday my yoga friend mentioned this quote in one of her classes:

Ships don’t sink because of the water around them; they sink because of the water that gets in them.

This felt to me like the most profound and apt metaphor for life. This is my new mantra, replacing In The Depth of Winter I Found Within Myself An Invincible Summer, and Serenity Now.

As a sidebar, it is again the depth of winter since it apparently is never going to stop snowing. Well, it’s not currently snowing, but intermittent snowstorms are expected all week, along with freezing temperatures and high winds. Find The Invincible Summer.

They sink because of the water that gets in them, I said to myself several times yesterday as I spent ninety minutes with the internet service provider and then with the router support centre, trying to fix my desktop computer and the internet connection in our house, trying not to panic as I thought of the unfiled tax returns on said desktop. It did, eventually, get fixed and then I FIXED IT AGAIN, MYSELF after a crash immediately following hanging up with router support. Am I an IT person now? I might be.

All is well and my sanity is still intact, the water didn’t get inside my ship. I kept imagining waves of increasing violence slapping up against the starboard bow, as I breathed deeply and tried to calmly describe to the person on the other end of the phone that no, it says I have internet access but I do not actually have internet access. Yes, I did unplug it and then plugged it back in. No, it is still not working. 

After spending the entire afternoon on this issue, I sprinted through a quick cardio workout before grabbing the dog and the leash and heading out to meet Jake on his walk home from school. I was still wearing my workout clothes – athleisure, if you will – and my little ankle socks as I slipped on my waterproof boots, for the slushy walk. I wasn’t more than five steps out of the house before my sock started to slip off my foot, reminding me of that meme that says I Walk Around Looking Like I Have It All Together And Everything’s Fine But Deep Down, Inside My Shoe, My Sock Is Slipping Off.

I kept soldiering on, with my sock half off. The waves are slapping the port bow. 

I have been very much looking forward to my hair appointment, for good reason: I don’t know if my hair is in a super-fast-growth-stage or if I’m just getting more and more grey, but my roots are in an Emergency Situation. This, coupled with the Extremely Dry Ends and Orange Straw Hair has made me eagerly anticipate my rendez-vous with my Hair Therapist. I had written down in my agenda – I use a paper agenda and calendar because I’m an Old Fashioned Girl – that the appointment was for today, at one o’clock.

This morning I was in the shower, not washing my hair, when I thought, Hmm, it’s strange I didn’t get a confirmation phone call. I was putting on my makeup, with my unwashed hair in a bun, and I thought, Hmm, it’s strange I made the appointment for a Tuesday. I always try to book for Wednesdays. Do I even need to say the punchline? I found the little card that I write the appointments down on, that I keep in my wallet, and it said, very clearly, April 26 1:00. I had written it down incorrectly. I had written it down incorrectly and now I was forced to go about my day with dirty hair for no reason.

The truth is that having an appointment today would have been a bit inconvenient; traffic was a snarl all day what with the incessant snow storms, and I was busy all morning which meant I would be out of the house all day, which isn’t great for Barkley, and also Mark had – strangely – an early dismissal day and would be home all afternoon. All signs point to Wednesday Is The Superior Day For A Hair Appointment and yet, I have felt off all day. I am trying to embrace the admittedly much happier situation, but I still feel all weird and unmoored, not unlike a ship out to sea on a stormy day. BUT THE GODDAMN WATER IS NOT GOING TO GET IN.

Clearly, my mental flexibility is a work in progress.