Strategy for Meltdown Recovery (For Mom!)

In the immediate aftermath of a “rough morning” (which usually includes some lost thing, screaming, blaming, slammed doors, etc…) I am shaken.  Someone will say “Good Morning!” and I can barely respond.  I will often cry in the car on the way to work, not for a specific hurt, but because it is a release from the anxiety and tension that were at sky-high levels only moments ago.

Usually, a rough morning means a crappy day, because I am distracted and upset, which leads to less focus on work, which leads to less work getting done, and so on…

English: Peanut butter cookie with a chocolate...

But today, I made a split second decision that helped me recover.  I decided to take the surface streets to work instead of the express way, and I decided to stop at a convenience store that I know carries my favorite sweet tea.  I picked up my tea and some peanut butter crackers, and happily munched and drank on my way to work.  By the time I got there, I was MUCH better off than I usually am on a rough morning.  I won’t always have the time to do this, because rough mornings often lead to being late to work, but I have found a coping strategy that works, and it makes me happy.

A Little Bit Southern

Sweet_tea_with_lemon by Nate SteinerWe were talking the other day at lunch about how the South has been rubbing off on me a bit.  I’m a die-hard sweet tea fan now (although without the lemon as pictured here), and that is what I drink with most meals when I am down there.  I’ve taste-tested all the brands in the convenience stores (The Man has to visit one at least once a day), and Gold Peak is my favorite, but I’ll drink Arizona if I have to.  The rest are just swill.  Oh, and McDonald’s usually has the best of all, and it’s only $1!

I’ve also picked up a few little phrase here and there, like when you ask someone to put something away, you say, “Will you put that up, please?”  I actually used this phrase with my band students one day, telling them to “put (their) instruments up,” and they promptly held their instruments in the air, looking around at each other as if to say, “What the -?”

I don’t think I’ll ever call my purse a “pocketbook”, though, nor will I call a bedroom “suite” a bedroom “suit”.

But I am a natural mimic, so “y’all” might catch me saying “y’all” a bit in the future…