Anyone who knows me knows I’m not too fond of surprises, specifically those that require me to abruptly change my planned activities. It almost feels as if I’m being violated somehow.
Those who know me well give me warnings. “I’m going to go soon,” has turned into my own personal seven-minute bell.
What is a seven-minute bell, you may ask? In high school, a bell would ring seven minutes before the end of each period. The stated purpose was so the PE classes knew it was time to stop what they were doing and to come in and change before the next class. But the bell rang throughout the entire campus, so we all had a seven-minute warning that it was time to wrap things up.
Is this where my need came from? Or is it some sort of attempt to control something, anything in my life? I haven’t had a lot of control over my life. I feel like, life mostly happens to me. No one ever asks me before they upend my world. Yet, I always have to adjust to the aftermath.
This evening I got an email. It was from the new pest control company saying they would be out tomorrow. Tomorrow? I emailed back and told them they had to give me more than 24 hours’ notice. I need more warning. .
Warning of what? I work from home. I have nowhere to go. There is no real obstacle to them coming tomorrow. I simply could not take the sudden schedule change. It brings chaos into my life, and I don’t do well with chaos.
Cheer’s to those who know me well. I appreciate you. Thank you for being my personal seven-minute bell, or 70 minutes as is sometimes the case. Thank you for helping keep the chaos at bay. I have so very little control over my life.