I have a tendency to get worked up when life throws me a curveball. This can bring on a wide variety of emotions from anxiety to fear to anger and everything in between. Steve is my safe place so he usually is the one that gets to deal with these emotions.
Sometimes this can be a problem, though, if I feel like he has some blame for the curveball. When that happens, I have a tendency to vent anger at him instead of to him. As I'm sure you can imagine, that usually doesn't go over well.
Today was one of those curveball days. Since our daughter is out of school next week for Spring Break, she decided to go stay with my sister for a few days so she could hang out with her kids. Since my mom is going to have my other sister's kids for at least part of that time, she'll actually get to spend time with all her cousins on my side of the family, something that she usually only gets to do at Christmas.
Since both of our cars have been a little contrary lately and I don't like driving the truck (not to mention it's a gas hog), it was a bit of a toss up what I would drive for the trip. After some debate, I decided to take the car that has been running better lately.
It ran great all the way there and nearly all the way back. I was almost to our exit when it started acting up. Since sometimes letting it sit for a few minutes will fix the issue, I pulled into the rest area. Halfway into the drive, it died on me. Thankfully the two cars that came flying in behind me saw me in time to stop. Otherwise I would have got hit.
It took me close to five minutes to get it cranked again. The entire time I was praying not to get hit. When it finally caught, I took off with a squeal of tires, something I never do, but I was trying to move in a hurry before I did get hit. I managed to just make it to a parking spot before it died again. Then it wouldn't crank.
Steve's at work so I texted him. I wasn't expecting him to come rescue me, but I was hoping he might have some suggestion so I could get it home.
He didn't answer.
I sent a second text.
Still no answer.
No answer from the third or fourth text either.
By this point, I was getting a bit steamed. I know he keeps his phone in his pocket on vibrate. I never text him while he's at work unless it's important. For me to send four texts in a matter of a few minutes was a clear sign that something was wrong. But he wasn't answering.
Granted, it wasn't a dire emergency. I could have called someone to come get me or just walked three miles down the interstate to get to our house. But it made me mad. And the longer I sat there waiting for a response, the madder I got.
I was still mad when the car finally decided to start so I sent another text.
It said "Don't worry. I fixed it myself." and I included a picture.
As I was walking around the store, it hit me. I could stay mad and let it carry over and ruin our time together while our daughter is gone. Or I could take it as a learning experience in letting go of anger from life's curveballs.
I chose to take it as a learning experience.
He did eventually text me back and followed it up with a call to make sure I made it home okay. Apparently, although his phone vibrates impressively when sitting on our headboard, it's hard to feel the vibration when it's in your pocket. He didn't even realize I had texted until he went on his break and checked his phone. So I'm glad I chose to let go of that anger.