the small pieces of the large world...

so, i've been having issues with my little car beeper thing that cause me to dance around and around my car, moving my wrist in tiny circles, hoping to hit upon the sweet spot that will unlock my car without sounding an alarm. so, that's frustrating.

and i'm wrapping up my job, so i'm stressed about filing and looming deadlines, and building the appearance that i spent 2 years being even semi-competent at my job.

and i am looking at, and a little stressed about, the many, many dishes i haven't done from saturday's party and which, realistically, will remain undone for the last 1.5 hours of this Monday.

So, I spent my Monday is this dithering, distracted little haze.

And my very good friend spent today in a hospital with an incredibly sick parent. I told her I'd pray for her and I absolutely did. But only in between - in between cursing my car and sorting files and gossiping and just piling up splinters until they formed, in my mind, some sort of gushing, Monday wound.

I remember, when Mom was really sick, thinking "How do people do these normal things, like drive, or wash clothes without crying?" It seemed impossible. But that's what I did today - normal things while my good friend lived in that scary, sick land that I sort of remember, but differently.

I'm not a martyr - I don't think the solution was to put on my hairshirt and pop round the hospital for a round of self-flaggelation. But I read somewhere that to pray, to REALLY pray for people, we must stop, turn our hearts towards them and, however briefly, really feel our petitions as strongly as they must feel their prayer. So, however briefly, my friend's sick parent feels like mine too, so I can pray with all the strength that demands.

And it's that, not accurate filing or a finally unlocked car door, that finally eradicates the Monday blues...