My mind is running on a hamster wheel. I keep circling around but get no closer to any destination. This, my friends, is worry.
Worry demands so much energy, steals so much peace and burns like a wildfire. My sleep is fitful. I wear the burden of worry like a coat made of cement.
Tonight, in the dark, I am fretting about my ceiling. (See the previous post for the gritty details.) I have some estimates for drying out the ceiling above me and the bathroom floor and if I told you, you would not even believe how much money these companies want. I’ve called my insurance company as a result but they can’t tell me much of anything until Tuesday (at the very, very earliest), when the insurance adjuster is working again.
So, I worry.
I worry about money.
I worry about insurance coverage.
I worry about mold.
I worry about money again.
Then for good measure, I torture myself by searching the Internet for clues. Will the insurance company pay?
I look up DIY solutions and wonder why I don’t know how to install drywall.
I price those giant fans and wonder if I could rip up the plywood sub-flooring by myself.
I worry about all these things.
I shrug that cement coat onto my shoulders and try to get comfortable lugging it around.
Then, the wildfire jumps the road. While I’m at it, I start to worry about other things, too. Random things. I branch out into hating my hair and considering whether I’ve ruined any of my children and wondering why I can’t be an all-around better person who never complains or needs to sleep, a person who runs miles for exercise and writes poetry and knows how to preserve peaches in Mason jars.
Then I remember a few things.
1) Writing about something always helps. Almost always.
2) Things usually work out.
3) God loves me. My husband loves me. My kids loves me.
4) Everything seems worse at night.
5) There’s no point in worrying about things in advance.
I’m going to sleep. Tomorrow has to be a better day.
It’s Monday morning. The sun is shining. Two men are here preparing to cut out part of my office ceiling so I’ve relocated my computer to the kitchen. The insurance adjuster is coming on Thursday. I guess we’ll survive.