Saturday, November 19, 2011

At the End of My USB

I was all set to begin this morning. I had the energy from a well rested sleep, the solitary time to write (the singular advantage of waking at 5 am by rote on Saturday morning) and I had the story. Actually I started out with a brain clogged with words, stories, annoyances and refection.Writing is a pleasure that has been just out of arms reach for a little too long. I can see the top of the counter I simply can't reach the cookie jar!

Somewhere between making coffee and feeding the cat I decided that I wanted to share our recent bookstore adventure. Bookstore adventures always begin with a suggestion and end with  Michael tugging at my coat to extricate me from the store, as I grasp at books along the way to soak into memory before we are gone. I could quite easily be turned into a bookstore Gollem, left their long enough. I'm the one in the dark recesses cracking spines, sniffing pages and telepathically manipulating  others out of my bookstore bubble.  No excursion to the world of ink and words is ever quick, painless, or cheap.

So that is where I was going to start. As I assembled coffee filters, water and grounds I assembled my thoughts. I fed the cat and reached for the camera, wanting to take pictures of my bookstore bounty to accompany my words.

I reached and it wasn't there, which isn't really surprising given my challenges with domestic engineering and household management. I never panic, it's always lurking somewhere. Usually, the somewhere is under a teatowl or in the fruit bowl, but this morning my search netted me nothing. This lead me to believe that it could be in the bathroom (what is up with kids taking pictures of themselves? Remember the days when you took pictures of your friends and they took pictures of you. Remember when you used to get the pictures back from the developer and plan a meet- up to look at the pictures, share a cocoa, some laughs and your doubles?) searching the bathroom for my camera really makes me miss the good old days.

Absent from the usual haunts, I decided that perhaps Michael used the camera. That being the case, the camera would be put away, Michael always does this, a habit that annoys me to no end. If I want to find something I hate finding it in the exact place it's suppose to be, we have 3 kids, were something is suppose to be is never the first place I look. I searched but came up empty handed. I'm not sure where the camera has gone to, I am confident however, that it will surface eventually, like missing converters and underwear the dog drags into the livingroom when company is over.

I may not have located my camera but Lula's was handy so I snatched it up, took a couple quick shots and immediately panicked. Pictures are only as good as the USB that sends them to your computer .....And my story changed.

This is where I have to locate the cable....

Every person with a cell phone and a camera has one of these drawers (that's what I tell myself to cope) In a home with 5 people we have a drawer of relevant cords, a basket of possibles and a box of no longers. Cell phones, cameras, video cameras, personal gaming systems, computers they all have cords, charges or adaptors and the only thing universal about them is their ability to instantaneously tie a stress knot in my frontal lobe the size of a softball. I always go into the drawer with a positive mindset, foolish in the belief that if I expect the right cord is there, it will be. Like driving to the front of the parking lot because you know a space is waiting there for you. My frame of mind performs a quick 360 when I fail to match the first cord to my device. Worse yet is thinking you have a match because it fits the device only to find that the opposing end is rigged for a purpose other than your task. More than once I've matched a wall charger to a computer connecting device.

So I hovered over the drawer of wires with camera trapped pictures in one hand and a mess of wires in the other, wishing I had a third hand to apply pressure to the throbbing vein in my temple. I plugged and unplugged, tried to fit round pegs into square holes, cursed silently and decided that suddenly my bookstore story wasn't so relevant or relateable. In fact my little bookstore story seemed like a lame trip through candyland on the way to a thrash metal rock concert palooza.

When I finally located the cord to match Lula's camera I rewarded myself by taking a picture of my defeated opponent.

I also considered that perhaps after writing my frustration out of my brain, I should probably take a time out. Reflect on the power a drawer full of cords has over my Psyche, and find some peace.

Gratitude for the book that might just have the answer "God Never Blinks  50 lessons for life's little detours" This fabulous little book is filled with reality check stories and insight. Michael picked it up on our recent bookstore adventure. 

Funny how I've come back to that.

Spend some moment everyday in reflection of gratitude and happiness. Even if the time found is standing in line for coffee...use is wisely.