staring down a vaccuum

I am pissed. Angry. Frustrated. Roiled (I know that's not quite the way to use the word but I like the way it sounds). Stuck. Bored. Stumped. Lost.

Could be pms. Could be Sunday night blahs. Could be this low level cold that I can't seem to shake. Could be the mountainous pile of stuff on my desk that has proven impossible to reduce. Could be that it's been days since I've been to yoga. Could be all the things I have to do that I have yet to begin.

Could be because the transplant's been postponed and I'm staring at nothing.

I'm sure, beyond sure, surer than that shadow of a doubt  saying that if I was heading to surgery in the morning I'd be completely and certifiably unhinged. I can't begin to imagine what that will be like.

But, now I have more time to sit and wonder and wait.

I spend my life planning. Planning for me, the kids, Jon. The dogs. Extended family. School vacation trips. Camp options. Doctor appointments. Car inspections. What to do for birthdays. Book club dinners. PTA fundraisers.

I can't plan this. I have no say, no input, I'm not on any organizational committee.

I keep thinking that one of the lessons for me in this experience is learning to let go. To come to terms with what is and letting it be. When I'm a bigger person I can grasp onto that for a bit but it's so delicate it slips through my fingers and it's lost. From there I can plunge into, well, here. Bored. Gritting my teeth. On edge. Wanting something, anything but having no idea what it is.

Actually, I do know what I want. I want a guarantee that everything will be ok.

Sadly, that's not possible. And maybe that's the wall I'm battling against at the moment.