My Take on the Tyranny of the Urgent

I didn't get Monday's to do list finished. Not even close. Lots of loose ends continued dangling, and I added one more for good measure - a popped tire. An act of sheer idiocy on my part - that's all I'm going to say about it.

After AAA came and changed my tire (this was my second claim in as many months - they'd better either make me a stockholder or revoke my membership), I fought off feelings of frustration and tried to work on updating my book proposal for Belabored. 

No, it hasn't yet been published. This is simply the newest iteration of my pitch to hopefully make agents sit up and take notice of a book I believe (if I do say so myself) has great merit and mind-changing potential. 

That said, the proposal at this stage is flatter than my tire was before the AAA guy swapped it with the donut.

Which reminds me - I'm not sure which is falling apart faster, my body or my car's. The tire has now been replaced, but poor Alex has more bumps and bruises than, well, than I do at this point, and that's saying something. My left shoulder is all out of whack, rebelling angrily anytime I tie on an apron or do a jumping jack (then again, my last round of calisthenics happened around the turn of the century, so no worries there). My right wrist, not wanting to be left out, decided to go on strike at the same time. 

But, hey, I can adapt. For instance, I can hold a glass in the left hand while directing traffic with the other. As long as I don't switch up the two, all's well. 

That'll come in handy if I'm ever called upon to bus tables during a pileup.

Getting back to to do lists, Tuesday's didn't fare much better than its predecessor's. In short, life right now is a series of unchecked boxes, a dog paddling routine, a waiting game. Too many agenda items, not all of them essential, but to me they feel important.

Following through on a promise I made to the guy who gave me stellar roadside assistance the other day. Lamenting the fact that I couldn't give him a tip, I took his card and offered to write him a good review. 

Review writing takes time.

Mailing out a check with a tip for the guys who skimmed my friends and me across the back bays of North Cape May last week. The boat ride was enchanting, but we didn't have a dime between us for a tip.

A few dollars, a few more minutes.

Getting this bleeping proposal tweaked and sent off to the publishing house which expressed interest back in June! Admittedly, I haven't just been playing Tiddlywinks all summer; the publisher suggested some market research to gauge interest might make the thing look more appealing to potential agents, so I've been doing that.

Time, time and more time. 

Financial business. Thank goodness I have finances to worry about, but that's just it - if I don't manage them, who will?

Ka ching! Time is money.

Someone once told me when God made time, He made enough of it. If only I could get my gut to agree with my brain on that piece of wisdom.

This blog entry pretty much wrote itself a couple nights ago when yours truly was trying to fall asleep. After taking care of the most pressing priorities, it was either type up my notes for this or work on the proposal.

I didn't even need to flip a coin.

OK, changing gears now. I no longer feel like being amusing (assuming I was successful in that effort in the first place). Having paused the article after that last sentence, I received news of a situation requiring my action in short order. Neither the circumstances nor the deadline excites me; quite the opposite, in fact. I now have a major new obstacle redirecting me from what I thought was my top priority, the book proposal (alright, so I back burnered that in favor of blogging - what of it?). 

I hear myself sounding whiny, and feel disinclined to change my tone. I am whining, doggone it! As I suspect is the case with many writers, it's extremely difficult to rouse oneself into the writing mode when one has gotten out of practice. Perhaps it's like riding a bike in some ways - the skill does come back quickly, but not without a few tumbles and the need to reacquaint oneself with the basic mechanics of the job. When that process keeps getting interrupted, the whole re-learning curve takes that much longer.

The Tyranny of the Urgent comes to mind. I once blogged about that subject, and am feeling the same kind of angst that I did then. 

My mother once pined after Dad was admitted, yet again, to the hospital through the ER, "Where do I go to accept this?"

I find myself reshaping Mom's question thusly: "Where do I go to prioritize all this?" 

The answer was then and still is the same: the cross.

"A man's heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps."

Proverbs 16:9

Rescued

It hasn't happened in many years, but today was the day. The last time this occurred I had a young baby and a kindergartner along for the ride - well, maybe I should say, for the wait.

And wait we did, for upwards of an hour. Although the police promised they would come quickly, by the time they showed up, little Ethan's diaper was soaked and his lungs were raw from yelling. 

Today's escapade had a much quicker and more satisfactory outcome.

The moment my keys went missing, I knew I was in trouble. It had literally only been a two minute stop to drop off some belated birthday gifts to a friend's children. The road to hell...

When I peered into the car and saw them resting tauntingly on the front passenger seat next to my purse (which naturally contained my only spare car key), I was sure what was coming. Before trying the door handle, I pleaded futilely for the thing to unlatch.

No such luck.

My first call was to AAA to help me break into the car. They were happy to oblige, but estimated a 90-minute wait. Since temperatures today were pushing 100 degrees, I thought it best to give the police a chance to beat the auto club's clock. 

I must admit to being a bit leery of calling the cops for help. I understand why these days the police force, which has come under such intense fire of late, is naturally reluctant to take any action which could earn them anything but A pluses in the conduct department. Breaking into people's cars, even at owners' urging, doesn't exactly carry with it the image these war-weary public servants are trying to convey. Moreover, it seems some vehicles sustain damage as a result of the jimmying process - again, not good for PR.

Spurning any risk to the the organization's battered reputation, the police dispatcher promised help in much shorter order than AAA. I heaved a sweaty sigh of relief while glancing at an incoming text. Apparently, my begging had paid off; the auto club's ETA had jumped to 20 minutes, which seemed to this fretful waiter much more bearable than the hour and a half they had previously postulated.

I called off the cops and leaned up against old Alex.

"Buddy, things are looking up," I murmured to my 10-year-old Mazda before answering a call from the AAA technician, Liz, who further lowered my wait time to five minutes.

I'm home typing this on my desktop, so the rest is history.

Here are my takeaways from this silly anecdote:

The best laid plans are no match for life's unpredictability (not to mention human error). Theoretically, I was prepared for this problem. I had my purse and a spare set of keys. Unfortunately, both were frustratingly out of reach and could do me no good without the outside intervention of someone who had tools I didn't possess.

Which brings me to my second life lesson: preparation is no substitute for prayer. I honestly can't remember if I prayed during this ordeal (that seems like an activity which should be reserved for things like cancer treatment or torture - that said, being stranded in the heat felt pretty harrowing at the time) - BUT I do keep a constant dialogue running with the Lord. When the going gets tough, turning to God is for me like flipping on a switch in a dark room. I don't think twice. The bill has been paid and I can count on good service every time.

Thirdly, figure on waiting. Sometimes the wait seems endless, like my lockout all those years ago. Other times, our needs somehow make it to the top of God's list. Either way, we know He's on our side and deliverance will come in some form eventually. 

Finally, never pass up a chance to pass on the gospel. Before my break-in expert departed, I made sure she had a hug and a tract in her hand. Who knows when or if our paths will ever cross again? 

My visiting sister likes to characterize problems as adventures. I tend to think of them as opportunities. One thing's for sure - they're here to stay, so we might as well make                                                      the most of them.

"And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, 

for those who are called according to His purpose." 

~ Romans 8:28~