Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: ANNOYED (04/05/18)
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TITLE: Just a Drip | Previous Challenge Entry
By Jack Taylor
04/07/18 -
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No sound of sirens yet. No knocks on the door from the neighbors in the condos on either side. No call from the minister asking to hear my confession. “Language!” I admonished myself.
The words of Philippians 4:4-8 flitted off the page of my Bible resting near the coffee pot. “Rejoice… whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right…think about such things.”
At least this time it wasn’t the dog that sent me over the top. Our Boxer, Ruffy, hadn’t chewed anything up; he hadn’t fought with the neighbor’s Poodle, he hadn’t attacked the postwoman. All had been calm on that front since his little accident on the laundry room floor this morning. I needed to talk to my son about what he was feeding that hungry little hound.
I emptied the dustpan into the garbage and wondered how I was going to face my husband, Jeff. This was the third cell phone in a month. The one in the wash hadn’t dried out in the rice like Google said it should have. The one that dropped out of my pocket and bounced down the cement stairs at the school was a clear accident. This third one? I guess we all know that phones don’t bounce off walls like basketballs.
Cars don’t bounce so well either. At least this time it wasn’t my fault. I’m sure the kid who rear-ended me at the stop sign was texting, even though he said he wasn’t. Those auto body repair shops are a rip-off. Telling me it might be a ‘write-off’ just because it’s a few years older than they want to deal with. What a waste of time.
Of course, that made me late to the doctor and that wretched receptionist didn’t want to fit me in. I know it’s only test results for my mammogram but I’m sure there’s something going on. I shouldn’t have talked that way to her. She’s the deacon’s daughter and seeing her eyes get big, while I’m struggling to express my need, isn’t going to make it easier at church.
I surveyed the floor in the dining room again, examined the wall, and wondered how to explain the clear gouge in the paint. A triangle of plastic lay on the plastic mum plant I kept in the dining room for color. I retrieved it and moved to drop it in with the rest of the casing. It’s been a long time since Jeff brought me real flowers. They always seem to die since I forget to water them.
While I’m looking at the wilting daffodils in my flower box the house phone rings again. I should have disconnected it when we got the cell phones. Another needless expense. Nobody but those incessant charities or scam artists trying to pry the last cent out of my wallet. I will myself to outlast the annoying rings. My neck and shoulders are tighter than the drum that teenager beats to death in services every week. No wonder I end up with so many migraines.
As I look up, past the railing of my twentieth-floor perch, that crazy redhead across the way is waving as if I’m her best friend. I lift my hand in a queen’s wave and turn away. That’s all I need right now – some bobble-head neighbor trying to tell me everything is going to be all right.
It hasn’t been right since dad’s memorial service just before Christmas. I hate cancer. This whole health thing is annoying – tests and check-ups … worry, worry, worry. Neither of the kids gets it and Jeff is far too busy to listen. “Rejoice… let your gentleness be evident to all….” Sometimes even the truth I know can be annoying.
I shouldn’t have thrown that phone. I really did like it. That dripping faucet put me over the edge. I’ve asked Jeff to fix it for weeks and it finally got to me.
“Rejoice…The Lord is near….” I pick up my Bible and the luke-warm coffee. “Okay, breathe,” I say. More than anything I need to know this truth. “The Lord is near.” He needs to deal with my annoyances.
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