Someone is always using the laundry room when I need it.
And I'm not going to die.
For the past few months, someone has been using the laundry room at the exact time and day I go to use it. Different days, different times, without fail. When this happens, my nervous system activates. I want to cry. I want to scream. I want to rage. I want to complain. To be honest, I want to give up on life all together.
But today, when it happened, I decided to start this Substack. I’m still activated. Still sad. Still angry and depressed. But, I’m something else too. I’m redirected. I’m taking control. I’m saying, HEY! THIS MAY NOT BE A WELL THOUGHT OUT FIRST POST BUT IT’S HERE. HEY! THE UNIVERSE DOESN’T WANT ME TO HAVE CLEAN UNDERWEAR SO I BETTER FIND ANOTHER PURPOSE! HEY! NO ONE AND NO THING IS OUT TO GET ME! HEY! IF ANYTHING I’M PROBABLY JUST DEEPLY SYNCED WITH THIS OTHER PERSON THAT ALSO NEEDS CLEAN UNDERWEAR AND MAYBE THAT’S KIND OF A BEAUTIFUL THING! “HEY! HEY!” REBA AT THE BEGINNING OF THE THEME SONG TO HER HIT SHOW REBA. HEY! AND YOU KNOW WHAT SHE HAD AN IN-UNIT WASHER AND DRYER AND IT DID NOT SOLVE ALL HER PROBLEMS!
But I’m sure it helped.
So today, instead of giving up on life, I ask myself WWRD (What Would Reba Do)?
Duh. She’d survive. She’s a survivor. And I will too.