I wipe my face hard on the bath towel after I finish with the rest of my body. I get back into my dirty clothes because I still have work to do outside. Just because I feel like crap doesn’t mean I can slack off. My worries might mount up, but then so will the poop and stew. Alright, I use the word stew to mean the giant list of daily to-do’s I complete every single day. There are other beings out there who are depending on me. I might not be able to fix all my problems at the moment, but I’m not going to let them down.
I exit the bathroom amidst a cloud of steam. There isn’t a vent fan in the ceiling, so things get very foggy in there—probably another issue. I sigh. What I need is something to eat because I’m probably just hungry. I don’t feel hungry, but whatever. I’ll have a big, tall glass of almond milk, cashew milk, coconut milk, oat milk, or whatever milk I have in the fridge at the moment. I alternate, but I can’t even remember what I bought.
“Arhg!” I shriek when I walk past the living room and find a big, burly, sexy shadow sitting on the couch.
“Sorry.” Finn jumps to his feet. “Didn’t mean to scare you. Again. I just wanted to talk.”
“Uh, thanks for not banging down the bathroom door and cutting my pity party short in there. I needed that time.”
Finn follows me into the kitchen. “I figured.”
I search the fridge and find the milk. Oat. Hmm. I was so sure I’d bought almond milk this time. Fuzzy pineapples—yes, I’m kicking it up a notch with the tropical fruits here. On top of everything else, I’m apparently losing my mind.
Finn rests his mighty fine behind against the countertop and folds his arms over his big, muscley chest. Apparently, grease stains on a gray t-shirt only add to its allure. At least on him, it does.
“Are you okay?” He’s talking to me softly now, and it’s enough to throw me straight into another blubbering pity party.
“Not really.” I set the oat milk on the counter and sniffle instead of reaching for a glass.
“What’s wrong? Is it the truck? The parts? I really don’t mind paying for it, truly. The tax deduction is incredibly helpful.”
“It’s not just the truck.” I don’t really want to talk about all my fears, but maybe it’s better to get them out instead of keeping them jammed up tight inside where they just keep rumbling and tumbling, turning the inside of my head into a sickening old butter churn. Or a new one. I just don’t think they still make them. But maybe…Look at me. I’m rambling again as usual.
“What is it then? I mean, if you want to talk to me.”
With a small sigh, I angle away and get a glass out of the cupboard. It’s on the top shelf, so it takes me an extra second to reach for it. I also take a few extra seconds to shake the living daylights out of the oat milk before I pour it into the glass. The first sip coats my tongue, and I focus on how good it tastes. I have a serious obsession with oat milk. It’s my favorite, and finding it in the fridge was a nice surprise on a fairly yucky afternoon.
“I…it’s not just the truck. It’s everything. The truck was just one disaster, but if you didn’t offer to cover the cost and fix it, I don’t know what I would have done. I spent all last night and this morning and this afternoon thinking about all the other things that could go wrong. With the house, with the truck again, with my car, and with…with me.”
“What could go wrong with you?” Finn asks gently.
“I don’t know! And I don’t want to think about it! But something could. I don’t have any health insurance because I don’t even have a job. I don’t pay myself, so I can’t say I’m even on the payroll. And blogging hardly counts. I was covered by my parents before, and then the college when I was attending there, but since then, I guess I’ve been tempting fate.”
“Hmm.”
“Hmm?” What was hmm supposed to mean? If I was looking for reassurances or answers or something, I sure as heck wasn’t going to get them from hmm.
I could feel myself sinking into the cabinets even though I wasn’t moving. My right temple started throbbing with an impending headache, and I felt my spirit plunging, even though it usually remained pretty dang high. Even if everything else went wrong, I tried to make sure I was always in a good mood and that I stayed positive. That might also sound token and flippant, but I swear I’m not a motivational model. I’m not going to be featured on posters with a big Becki smile anytime soon. Although, if that was a job and someone reached out to me, and it was work which I could fit around my current schedule…who knows. I’m not saying I’m above it. What I am saying is that through rescue, I’ve seen a lot of really crappy scenarios. I’ve seen a lot of suffering, and I’ve seen some of the worst humanity can offer, so I know I have it good. Aside from that, I know I’ve led a pretty great life, and I know also know I’m seriously blessed.