It’s Okay to Laugh

Here I sit trying to organize my day but already feeling unorganized inside. I’m trying to recall dreams I don’t remember but am distracted by the mold in my windows. Ah, the problem of single pane windows. I kind of feel like Beverly in Stephen King’s IT. Time and time again she washed the blood out of her sink but it always returned, gurgling. That’s becoming me and my moldy windows. I guess this is what you call working with your budget. My mom is coming over tonight and I’m going to ask her if she has any ideas to defeat this. She’s coming by for dinner, but also to help me shave my poodles. She’s bringing pie, too. I think its clear who is getting the short end of the stick here!

My marriage lately has consisted of doing crosswords together, 80’s tunes, Justin cooking me pancakes, because I’m too tired during the week and well…they’re pancakes. Taking J to the ER for an acid reflux attack. Watching cowboy movies. Going to church and making sure we get coffee and hot chocolate in the lobby before service starts. This upcoming week marks 3 years of dating. Last night we were talking and I thought it was funny, there’s so many things in the beginning of our relationship I don’t remember. When did we first go to this restaurant or do this thing. When did we first watch that movie? I know we’ve seen it several times together now. I guess, when somebody’s loving you, you lose track of time.

I’ve been dealing with bouts of anxiety lately when we leave church. I always have this heavy feeling around me, like, am I missing out on something? Is this where I belong? What if I’m not capable of being a real church-goer? What if I’m doomed to miss out on fellowship and learn nothing more about the Lord?

Sometimes I leave church and I’m in a downright pissy mood. I had a friend in San Diego, Connie. She used to say Sunday was the one day out of the week you didn’t want to work retail because that was the day folks would get a jump start on their sins for the week. I kind of think there’s some truth to that.

I kind of think its hard to feel like you belong anywhere or with anyone. But maybe we should be asking, does ______ belong with me? And not the other way around.

When I feel lost like this it reminds me how important it is that we pray for each other. It’s way too easy to get lost in the fog. And the fog is wet. Wet enough, I would say, to create mold in your window sills.

-Annie Smith

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