I’m writing this post on my cell phone because my laptop and router seem to be having yet another lovers quarrel, and the router is refusing to let anyone connect to resolve the conflict. She has figuratively locked herself in the bathroom and until she decides to open the door and reconnect to the outside world, I am stuck typing on this teeny little touch pad. My fingers are far too large for this and autocorrect is getting much too clever for her own good tonight. But I am still here, writing away.
This isn’t the first time that my two little technogoical love birds have found themselves in a spat- oh yes, I have bore witness to many a sudden disconnection- leaving me awkwardly hoping that the cute little quip I had finally concocted managed to save before the technogoical silent treatment ensued. Normally when this happens I go through a few stages of my own grief. First there is denial, where I repeatedly click the refresh button and hold my breath. Then there is anger (I will spare you the visual, but needless to say, it involves some very colorful swear words and threats- lots and lots of threats). After that I reach the bargaining stage: trying to make deals with my little cyber couple, using every episode of Friends I have ever seen to convince them that they do love each other and communication is the key to their happiness. From there I spiral into depression: I will never be the author that I hoped to be if I can’t depend on the tools at my disposal. I can’t exactly upload a post with my handy dandy notebook. And then I reach that blissful point of acceptance. This is where I resign myself to my fate, go find a tub of ice team, pick up the remote and begrudgingly embrace my writerless fate of The Big Bang Theory. Better luck next time, ole girl.
But that was the old Katie, the pre-goal Katie, if you will. Today slinking away was not an option. Instead I got up, grabbed the leash and walked away my frustration with a very happy dog (simultaneously checking off another item on that ‘goals’ list I made). And when I got home, I was ready to give it my all- even if that meant delicately clicking these touch pad keys and scrutinizing every word to ensure that my chubby thumbs did not completely mangle it (providing autocorrect with creative license to turn it into anything her demonic little heart desired).
What’s the point to this odd little story, you may ask? It’s simple, really. It doesn’t matter what the goal is, there will always be something that decides to stand in your way. Life is good at givingus little tests of faith, trying to find how bad we really want what we are striving for. Sometimes we succeed and show our true grit, other times we fail and slink away to lick our wounds. The point is to get back up and keep on reaching, keeping on pushing yourself one step farther. Be creative if you have to, but don’t give up just because a roadblock tries to fall on you. Sometimes what you really need to do is stick out your tongue at the moody little router and remind her that you have a data plan you have been sparingly using this month for just such an occasion.
You will only be defeated if you let yourself be. If you want an excuse, you’ll find one- the world is full of them. But if you want a solution, take a deep breath, find a new angle and look a little closer. There is always a work-around, if you are only willing to push yourself to find it.
So tonight, I celebrate a small success. It’s just one little post, it’s not my best, it probably won’t be one that anyone finds particularly noteworthy- but it’s here. I set a goal, I promised myself one post every other day. And I kept it even though it was so easy to break, to back down and tell myself that I will simply write two days in a row next time to make up for it. Today I was determined, today I was tested, and today I passed. (Now if I could only find this kind of attitude for my alleged work-out routine. Baby steps, I guess).
Tipsy Typer 