Last week was… off. Unproductive. Frustrating.

It seemed that every task, every chore, every project required just a little more effort, a little more patience, a little more time. No one thing was HARD or a really BIG deal. It was a week full of first world problems.

A sick kid that required washing puke covered sheets at 5:30 AM.
A jammed printer that delayed the start of class by twenty minutes.
An inconvenient, but necessary stop for gas.
An unprepared student testing the very last reserves of my end of semester patience and compassion.

And a dozen other little things I have already forgotten because they were (and are) so insignificant. But collectively, they made the week exhausting.

I think the entire week could be summed up in my Monday afternoon trip to the bathroom. As I entered the stall and pulled down my pants, $27 fell into the toilet. This would have been annoying enough, but it was made worse by the fact that I didn’t see the bills until I had already peed all over them. What should have been a two-minute pit-stop on my way off of campus became an exercise in money laundering. And while it was totally legal, it was kind of gross and took time I wasn’t planning to spend.

After three straight days of these shenanigans I began to think that the universe was trying to tell me something. Maybe these seemingly random occurrences of frustration had a message buried deep down inside them. But what could it be?

When I read the below text in my class read-aloud book, I felt a little better.

Text from the book Breakout by Kate Messner. You can get your copy here. (aff. link)

I am a busy person, mostly because that is the kind of life my husband and I have built for ourselves and our family. Usually I like this. Productivity is my jam. It makes me feel good and fuels me to do more. Right now, at the end of a semester in which I teach four classes (at two different institutions) I am busier than ever, with over 140 items to grade. Productivity isn’t just a nicety for me right now, it is essential. It makes a week like the one I’ve just had exceptionally frustrating. Except that it isn’t.

I’m fine. I’m not going to die or get fired (I don’t think!). I’ll survive. But still – it is what it is, and it’s given me pause to stop and consider.

Even though I have zero control over the things happening to me this week, I can control how I react and respond.

So, Wednesday night, I spent extra time at dinner, talking with my kids and helping them with their homework. I left my computer in my bag and didn’t grade a single thing. I watched a college basketball game on TV (boo, the Badgers lost), and scrolled through Instagram. Thursday morning, instead of waking up and cramming my usual 20 minutes of Pilates and abs into my day, I made a cup of cocoa and spent time journaling. And then, after gifting myself these graces, I got back to work. But instead of approaching my to-do list with a harried frame of mind, I was able to tackle the tasks, and any frustrations that came up, with fresh energy.

I know that my posts on here are usually about writing, but this one is about the WRITER.

It’s about the human who creates the stories and what she does when the world pisses on her hard earned money.

I also worked through this week by putting my character in a place of overwhelming panic and watching to see how she (ahem, I) would handle it. The answer? Well, I’ll let you see for yourself in an excerpt from my rough draft of Champion Chocolatier #3.

Before I leave you to reading, Let me say this. Sometimes life is annoying and hard in ways that don’t really matter. It feels silly to complain, unproductive even, but that doesn’t mean you should ignore your feelings. While moving on might feel like pushing forward, it will probably only compound the problems. Instead, acknowledge the frustration, grant your self some space, gift yourself a break, a treat, some slack. And then, get back to the good fight. Whatever you are trying to accomplish or make it through, YOU CAN, and I can’t wait to see the end result.

Love,

Amanda

Excerpt from Champion Chocolatier #3 (Rough Draft)

“It was just here,” Emmy shouted frantically.

She pulled off her mittens and searched her pockets again. The breeze from the lake bit at her fingers. It was March, but springtime in Duluth was still a long way off. Deep in the folds of her satin lined, peacoat pockets, Emmy found the answer. Not what she had been searching for, but instead, a hole. She stuck her half-frozen fingers through the gap in the silky fabric, the exposed threads sharper than she would have thought possible. She lifted the overhanging fabric flap of her coat and saw the pale pink polish of her middle and ring finger protruding.

She suddenly felt ten years old, on a train, crushed by the realization that she lost Santa’s sleigh bell. Only worse. Santa’s sleigh had lost of bells. The contest only had one access code per couple. And she’d just lost hers. Theirs. Hers and Eddie’s chance to advance to the next round of the competition was now fluttering aimlessly around the city. Somewhere between Eddie’s store and the front stoop of hers.

Emmy’s eyes were pulled to the lake, fearing the worst.

No, Emmy thought. Be reasonable. Be logical. The breeze blows away from the shore, not toward it. Re-trace your steps.

Emmy forced herself to turn away from the front door of Sweet Shores Chocolate Store and walk down the steps. She turned left, the way she had come. While she walked slowly, she kept her head down and her eyes on the sidewalk. Her eyes felt like the little white ball in Pong, moving back and forth, left to right, bouncing from a lamp post to a brick building, back to a curb and then a bench. Emmy was concentrating so hard on her search and rescue mission, that she walked straight into Pastor Kim.

“Ooff,” Emmy said in an exhalation of breath.

“God gave you two eyes my dear,” Pastor Kim said. “And a neck. I think he’d be pleased if you used them.”

“Oh,” Emmy laughed. “I’m sorry. You’re probably right. I just,” her eyes darted left to right again. “I lost something important and I’m trying to retrace my steps.”

“Do you want to pray about it?” Pastor Kim asked.

Emmy paused. Her mind was racing, her chest was tight, she could barely think straight. Even though they were standing in the middle of the sidewalk on Canal Drive, she did want to pray.

“I’d love that. Thank you.”

Pastor Kim nodded. She stepped closer to the building and out of the way of anyone who might be walking by. She folded her hands and bowed her head. Emmy did the same.

“Dear God,” Pastor Kim said. “We live in a pretty chaotic world. It’s easy for us humans to get overwhelmed and preoccupied, and as a result, lose things. I pray today to ask you to help Emmy find the item she’s lost, and also keep her safe on her journey to do so. I also pray that she is able to take time to clear her head. Help her to focus on the important things in her life and let go of the rest.”

Here Pastor Kim paused. Emmy cracked open one eye and peeked through the fringe of hair that had fallen around her face.

“Anything else you’d like to add?” Pastor Kim asked.

Emmy thought a moment. Pastor Kim had already asked for everything Emmy needed in this moment, even a couple of things Emmy hadn’t known she needed until Pastor Kim had said them out loud. It felt selfish to ask for more than that, for more than she’d already been given. This morning she might have prayed to win the couple’s contest or even to beat SPOILER/NAME DELETED in the next round of the competition. But the urgency of those requests felt suddenly dimmer. Emmy closed her eyes again and prayed aloud.

“Dear God, thank you for Pastor Kim. Thank you for the opportunity to run into her today. Thank you also for Eddie and the ways he supports me and my crazy dreams. In your name we pray.”

“Amen,” both women said together.

Emmy squeezed her hands together, a quick pulse of energy that seemed to physically ground her in this new-found, calm mindset.

“So,” Pastor Kim said. “You’ve lost something.”

Emmy explained about the code and how she and Eddie had worked so hard to earn it. She told her about sticking it in her coat pocket and then discovering the hole. She rambled on, retelling the events that had led her to standing here, in the middle of the sidewalk, codeless.

“Did the code include any real words? Anything like ____________ or ___________ (AGAIN CONTENT REMOVED TO PREVENT SPOILERS)? Something logical or easy to remember?”

Emmy shook her head. “It was totally random. A bunch of letters and numbers all mixed together. I don’t even remember how many.”

“Any way you can contact the organizers of the competition for another code?”

“I doubt it. There are dozens of couples vying for only a few spots. It’s kind of survival of the fittest.”

“You didn’t happen to take a picture of it, did you?” Pastor Kim asked.

Emmy thought back over the events of the day. Suddenly her eyes got huge. “Sort of! I mean, not of the code specifically, but I did take a selfie of us, me and Eddie, when it arrived in the mail. I was so excited!”

“Were you holding the code at the time?”

Emmy didn’t verbally answer. She was pulling off her mittens and digging into her pocket for her phone. Thank goodness the hole in her coat wasn’t big enough for that important piece of her life to slip through. She tapped on the photos icon, selected the most recent image and used her fingers to zoom in on the image. Her face split into a big grin, and she turned the phone toward Pastor Kim so she could see.

“Hallelujah,” she said and mirrored Emmy’s smile.

“Thank you!” Emmy said. She closed the space between the two women and wrapped Pastor Kim in a hug.

“You’re welcome! So, what’s next?”

Emmy thought about the to-do list that had been distracting her on the way back to Sweet Shores, the detail riddled, now seemingly insignificant list of chores that had been dominating her brain space all day. Without even consulting the list, Emmy knew that a few of the items could be let go completely, and the rest could wait until tomorrow.

“I’m going to go pick up Eddie’s favorite pasta from Bellisio’s and a bottle of wine. And then, after entering this code, nothing. I think we’ll just have a low-key evening at home.”

“I think that sounds wonderful,” Pastor Kim said. “Enjoy.”

“We will,” Emmy said. “I hope you have a good night too.”

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