WHERE IS IT ALL? I fumed, digging through the bags, noticing there was no this, no that. I grabbed my phone, scrolling into the customer service section of the app. WHO HAS TIME FOR THIS? This is missing, and this and this and this, I tapped, in fully entitled raging mode. I hit send.
Ping.
A text message arrived. It was my Shopper, saying he was so sorry. He forgot one bag, and he was on his way back, so sorry, he’d be back in 10 minutes, he noticed on his next stop.
I realized I’d been holding my breath this whole time and exhaled. Of course, it was just a tiny mistake, easy to make. Of course, I didn’t need to lose my mind. Worst case scenario, I make a dinner pivot, and we go with grilled cheese or whatever. The Shopper arrived five minutes later, greeting me with groceries and apologies at the door. I, too, was apologetic and embarrassed for my haste. I went back online to undo all I’d done, to give him a 5-star review, an extra tip.
As I put the food away, I vowed to return to my rule of pausing before acting angrily.
But clearly, The Universe wasn’t done with me yet.
A few days later, we got some news from our school that made me upset. It shouldn’t have been a big surprise, but as these things go, it
felt like a big deal
If I’m honest, the
issue was more
about my
expectations than
the reality of
whether this was a
make-or-break
deal for the
upcoming school
year.
I lost it and broke
the rule again.
Again, I fired off an
irritated, ugly
email, feeling
entitled and mad
and fueled by
visions of what I
thought was
going to happen
versus what was
now going to occur. I hit send and went to bed to toss and turn in a silent furor of self-righteousness.
I almost instantly felt that pang of regret, that sick-to-my-stomach throb of knowing that I’d potentially outed myself as the spoiled brat I never wanted to be. In the night, I staggered to the bathroom for some water. While taking a sip, I knocked the glass against my front tooth.
I heard a tiny CLICK and felt sick again. I rubbed my tongue across the edge of my tooth to confirm what I already knew. A chipped tooth. A glance in the mirror confirmed a tiny notch knocked out of my front right tooth. Small enough not to be noticed by anyone else but big enough that I couldn’t stop touching it with my tongue.