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Fetch

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I had that dreaded knot in my stomach again, the one I get when I feel anxious about a situation that is less than perfect or positive. I will often zone out in those moments, wondering what went wrong, what my part might have been in it all, thinking what might be different if I said this or did that.

Of course, this is a ridiculous waste of time and energy. And it usually means I'll eat a donut. Because donuts make the stomach knots go away. At least, in theory.

When this particular knot hit, I had just gotten out of the shower and I felt like a failure because it seemed like life was kinda spiraling out into far different patterns than I might have expected (though, duh, I could have predicted it'd do this anyway). So I started my regular cycle of, "Oh man, look at what's happening. What went wrong? Did I do this? Can I make it better?"

And, clear as a bell, I heard this in my head:

Even though we know that Regina George is a vile beyotch, she had a point: "fetch" was never going to happen. In the case of my worries, I could either obsess and try to piece back together things that were completely out of my control--in effect, calling everything "fetch" and just hoping everyone would catch on--or I could stop trying to make "fetch" happen. 

If life is a little bit like a puzzle, sometimes there will be pieces that fit, and sometimes there will be pieces that don't. And sometimes there will be pieces that belong to a completely different puzzle. It's annoying, and requires a little sorting, but if it doesn't fit in the first place, no amount of force or worry or donut eating is going to miraculously make it change shape.


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