Hit the Reset Button

It’s been one of those days. Too humid to get a good night’s sleep, fans loud and blowing uncomforting waves of gusty unnatural breezes. Allergies (made worse by said fans) making itchy eyes and skin worse. Wake up to change outfits so many times you think you’re back in high school. Hair won’t cooperate, trip over the dogs, more itchy skin on the face you’re not feeling so good about wearing . Can’t decide what to pack for lunch. Kids and spouse getting on your nerves just because they exist in your space at that very moment and staying out of your way, sensing something is up. Then, just as you sit in the car, you feel your underwire snap and feel a sharp poke in your upper rib cage. Really? Seriously? And we haven’t left the driveway?

As I unlocked the door and startled my dogs that have already said goodbye in their doggy way, I marched upstairs to change the violating underwire before leaving for work and remembered one word...RESET. It was a decision I Could make and the only thing I Could change about the way my morning was going. I could choose to reset my mindset. Go from, “This day is jacked up and is only going to get worse,” to “Well, it’s been an ‘eventful’ morning and I now have the opportunity to come down these stairs again and start over, to reset.”

After all, I have a bed to sleep in and I am lucid  enough to feel the humidity. I have paid my electricity bill to keep the artificial breeze going and have eyes to feel itchy and skin to look blotchy. Could someone with a degenerative eye disease or a burn victim say the same? How dare I be upset about having a choice of outfits and hair that a chemo patient wished they had? Sweet doggy escorts making sure I don’t get lost on the way to the kitchen and a refrigerator and pantry FULL of food are on many wish lists. Spouse and children that know and love you well enough to just move out of the warpath, priceless. So, I chose to hit “reset.”

After getting rid of the pokey bra, starting the car a second time and taking a good and true deep breath, I reset my day. Watching the nightly news with reports of Syrian civil atrocities, I realize my morning is another’s heaven. A teacher friend of mine has coined the term “first-world-problems,” perfectly describing what this morning’s challenges held. How dare I do anything but push “reset.” Learning to be grateful in the midst of things that don’t always feel like it is the gift of the “reset.” It could truly, surely, most positively be much, much worse. We owe it to those that do.