Frustration, Thy Name Is Cold Toes

My feet are cold.

Which, honestly? Is the least of my problems right now. But having chilly toesies is the thing I can fix. So I’m concentrating on that. Because you can only deal with one thing at a time, right?

Right.

Here’s the thing: Life. Some days, it’s fairly simple. Some days it’s not.  Well, okay, a lot of days it’s not.  I like to think I’m a positive person, but there are days – and sometimes, weeks -- where it feels quite a bit like fate and karma and whatever there is out there are testing me.

Usually, I like a good test.  I’m dorky like that. Give me a number two pencil and a bubble sheet and I’m all over it.

But I’m starting to feel as though I can’t handle any more tests.

Which is lame, I know. And frankly, not very fun to read about. No one comes here because they want to read about the fact that I have days where I want to throw in the towel (though I do like that image, of slinging wet towels about with abandon) and just be done.

One of my favorite bloggers mentioned a few weeks ago that she was skipping about the internet when she came across the admonishment: Do The Work. I’ve been doing the work. I keep doing the work. And maybe it’s foolish or naïve of me, but at some point I feel like the work should start to be rewarding. Intellectually, I know that it will be. But emotionally, I am starting to ask how long I can do the work for, how long I can keep plodding along without feeling like I’m getting anywhere. I’m running on a treadmill – I’m racking up the miles, but I’m still standing in the same damn place, and the scenery is boring and I’m tired and I kind of want to go find a comfy place to curl up and take a long nap.

So instead, I’m going to concentrate on something else.

Like having cold feet.

Because that, at least, is something I can change.

And the rest of it will come, right? It will come.

It has to.