I have no good title...

Hi.
Holy crap I surpassed 2,000 hits on my blog - Man that is so freaking cool.
I am in the library at school, shoes off, diet pepsi by my side and power pointed out at the present moment - taking a break to blog even though I should be doing MORE Geography vocab - but, I am so OVER this studying shit.
I am almost to the point that I don't care anymore - willing to risk my GPA for my sanity...
I am just plain tired.
I stayed up far too late last night watching the news, I had CNN on when the announcement was made that President Obama would be making an announcement - I was worried for about five minutes that it may be Libya backlash, but then I just had a gut feeling that Osama bin laden had been killed or, at the very least captured.
Me personally - I have mixed emotions on his death. I wish that our Navy seal bad asses could have brought him back alive, put him on trial and then sent him off to one of our prisons for a nice long life in hell - I just hate killing of any kind.
Now I realize that I may sound like a borderline sympathizer with with Osama by not jumping on the hip hip hooray he's dead bandwagon - that is simply not the case. I will however say that I have looked away (again) from facebook as the images and words are all a little too ugly for my peace seeking eye balls - the picture of our own Lady Liberty holding the chopped and bloody head of bin Laden is just too much for me and a far cry from what I want to yell YAY about. Again, not sympathising - just not a fan of hate or killing of any kind. I certainly don't want my kids to see Lady Liberty, as beautiful a symbol as she is, all bloody and holding a human head.
And here I guess I make a point, if there is one to be made, it
harkens back in a sense to my previous blog regarding mis-directed hate towards the religion of Islam - bear with me.
Let me start here so as not to confuse anyone....

September 11th is a day I will never forget.
It was my first day of maternity leave just before Matthew was born.
I was drinking tea and eating toast in bed while I watched the today show.
Katie and Matt interrupted an author's interview to announce to the world that a plane had hit one of the world trade center towers. At first it seemed an accident of some horrible inconception - and then the second plane hit and via cell phone from a bystander on the streets of Manahttan, the NBC news team and the Nation realized we were under attack.
I tear up immediately when I allow myself to remember...
In brief - I picked up my kids from school as there were two other planes rumored to be over Virginia air space and I proceeded to sit on my couch for the rest of the day in absolute shock, just reeling from the devastation - holding on tight to my belly and my other two boys.
Kevin asked if terrorists were going to come up on our lawn as we watched the Pentagon, gaping hole and in flames...
I called my BFF Mary, who was due to fly down to Virginia later that week to be with me at Matthew's birth. Naturally we cried, bawled actually and then proceeded to turn it inside out as we tried to grasp the enormity of what was happening - Then it struck us, our personal loss....
No one that I knew personally had been directly impacted, no loss of life, no one missing, but - all the flights were grounded and Mary couldn't come.
Now that is obviously a "no big deal" loss when held up against what others were facing (I know), but under the circumstances of my pregnancy and the very real possibility that Matthew would die, not having Mary there to support me, felt like an a direct hit aimed at my heart and my hope.
I was going to need my best friend if my baby died...
Six days later, in the moment of silence before the stock exchange rang it's bell, Dr. Blommel my OB/GYB, held her gloved hand high in the air, (on her finger the pill to induce labor) - me in stirrups-spread eagle and together we observed a moment of silence with the rest of the country - the movement to begin recovery...

The week of the terrorist attacks, was a week full of both sorrow and joy in my life- it provided for me the ultimate contrast between the two...9/11 and my son lived...
I am full of sorrow still, for all the people who died that day - the victims, their families and all the brave men and women who ran to the rescue, the ones who went to help others and gave their lives doing so. My heart will never forget the loss of life and the pain that lives on for those who must live without their significant other. I also feel the pain for all the military personnel who have been injured or killed in the war against terrorism - their service is what allows me the freedom to sit here and type...of this I am so aware and so very thankful.
So back to my original point - Like I said, I am no sympathizer to terrorism or terrorists - But I sure do hate violence and I hate breeding it... Ask my family, I even hate war related video games - HATE THEM...
I guess I worry that Patriotism can sometimes look borderline terrorism, if it is gone about in the wrong way.
I say, be Patriotic without saying "YEAH FUCKING KILL THE BASTARD" - Don't have Lady Liberty bathed in Osama's blood (please)
I think if we behave like animals, then the terrorists will continue too as well - the cycle of violence and hatred will come full circle... It scares me a lot.
Like with your children, set a positive example.
I think it is more than okay to hang your American Flag, sing our National Anthem at the top of your lungs and to be relieved that he is gone gone gone(AMEN), but just keep in mind when you approach the verge of venomous hate - that is exactly what they expect of us. To them we are the bad guys.
I am glad that justice has been done for all those who were impacted by the 9/11 terrorist attacks.
I thank all the military branches for their service and their dilligence.
I am glad that we don't have to worry about this evil man anymore.
Please don't hate on the Muslims.
God Bless America my home sweet home.

Smells like Team Spirit

Hi Bloggers,
Everyone had a good weekend I hope? Mine has been busy busy busy and none of that busyness has included studying for my upcoming FIVE finals, oh my...
Right now, in fact would be an opportune time to dig into the endless texts and notes as the kids are at swim practice and the house is fairly silent BUT, I must, just must, blog about an experience I had today that is note worthy.
Today I went to the ATM and withdrew $200 and drove me and the crew over to the Alyssa Diver Cut-A-Thon to get pretty. What is a cut-a-thon you may be wondering?
Well if you back up a few blogs, there is one about a young girl from my community who has been diagnosed with cancer - today, as is customary in good Ole Lake Monticello, a local salon stepped up to help out the Divers family with medical expenses and provided cuts in exchange for donations.
You gotta love people who care enough to take action.
Four our of my six members received new do's and we bought five raffle tickets, ate way too much from the bake sale table and came away with a buzz from all the sugar and good vibes.
The energy around an event of the pro-active community nature is always so positive, it warms the heart of everyone involved, I know it did mine - for sure.
I give major props to all the girls who worked so tirelessly, snipping head after head to get the job done.
When the day ended over $6,000 dollars was raised for this family who surely is facing insurmountable expenses.
Today, after reading her blogs daily, I FINALLY got to wrap my arms around Lynn and hold on to this woman, who on a daily basis I only get to love via the computer.
I have so much respect for her strength and grace under pressure - I cannot tell you how much time I have spent trying to imagine myself into her shoes as a way to gain perspective and find gratefulness.
My most current wished for wish, is that her daughter will heal and live a long, healthy, crazy beautiful life.
I disagree wholeheartedly with children fighting battles of this nature - I know it is the way of life and I know there are no good answers to seek as to why, I know it is what it is - but still, I disagree - with every stubborn fiber of my being, DISAGREE!
The only good thing about cancer (that I can think of) is what I saw today in the faces of all the people that showed up to give cuts and get cuts - TEAM SPIRIT. I threw down some cash, ate cupcakes, chatted with neighbors and was a piece of the collective team, here and ready to do battle behind and on behalf of this family.
This community makes me proud and I am proud to be a part of it - Great job salon DeShano - you gorgeous girls rock so hard.
Far far away, too far away, up in Maine, my other family walked today to raise awareness for children and adults diagnosed with Autism. My best friend's son has Aspergers Syndrome and his awesomely wonderful teacher formed "TEAM COLBY" to not just talk the talk, but walk the walk - literally.
Community spirit at it's best again - Love that teacher for caring enough to back up my family and let them know that they are not alone.
I couldn't be there to walk alongside them and it hurts me to no end, the best I could do was sponsor him from here (all these stupid miles away) and remember to keep him in mind everyday of my life when even the slightest bit of discrimination or intolerance or ignorance rears it's ugly head inside of mine.
So that's about all I have today - A whole lot of team spirit and no studying under my belt.
My grades will surely suffer (sigh) but my conscience and my heart won't, not one little bit.
Now I ask you to say a prayer for Alyssa's healing (if you don't pray - good vibes will do)
And - get educated about Autism, if you aren't already.
Thank you to everyone who does these things - I love you for it.

Just an old bird brain, that's me.

Good Morning blog readers,
Well one thing is evident,staying off of facebook has certainly provided me with more time to write about my thoughts -
Hence, here I am again, me and the box.
I woke up this morning thinking about two things.
One, as much as I say I am okay with my new middle aged status (40 is the middle of the road right?) I am not liking the new creaky version of my body. I hit forty and BAM every damn joint and muscle is aching.
This morning I began to diagnose the diseases I am surely suffering from as each ache took over my stiff self as I tried to stretch into a wakeful being. I am pretty sure I have bone cancer as this stiffness has to be something more than middle age and I am fairly certain to be suffering from some muscular disease to boot, as I would rather stay fetal every morning than stretch into the ever imminent charlie horse - But here's the thing, I probably don't have any diseases, the things I am feeling are par for the course of a deteriorating body.
Man I do not dig that.
Now I will readily admit that since I started school (as previously blog discussed) I have not taken as great a care of my body as my former gym rat self did - there simply is no time. And in my body's defense, I have used this outer self to the max, I have had a great time with this flesh and bone - there is little we have not accomplished together - we have hiked and run and lunged and danced and even leaned dangerously close to the edge of a cliff in Ireland - me and the bod have had some seriously good times.
Oh how I wish they would just go on and on forever...
I have a hard time with the concept that they cannot. One thing that I have learned about myself by way of my philosophy and English classes is that for me, the reoccurring theme of death keeps a popping up - To put it plainly I am not particularly comfortable with my own mortality.
Not that I want to be immortal and vampire like or anything, I just don't like the idea that all of this has to come to and end - and yup to my chagrin, it sure does....
The second thought out of my head, has to do with the Robin who has tirelessly worked to construct this beautiful little piece of natural architecture right in the pot of my Nana's plant. what the heck is that about? We are surrounded by trees here at my house, surely there is a branch in one of them better suited that this little plant pot.
And yet, there it is.
This connected the two waking stream of consciousness thoughts together in a relatable way for me.
My Nana, she loves birds. I mean she really does. She wasn't a bird watcher or anything, but she would sing with them when I was a child, she would whistle to them (great whistler) and they seemed to whistle right back at her. When she was here in Virginia at Gordon House (nursing home) she was always keeping track of the birds activities. Watched them for hours from her wheel chair in the sitting room and knew exactly who was connected to who, who was buildibg what nest where and funny enough the birds thoughts on the weather. She would tell me when it was going to rain by the behavior of the red cardinal perched in the tree across the street.
She knew all their business.
While she was there, I potted a creeping plant for her and placed in on the top shelf in the bathroom, directly in front of the window. The staff were always leaving the bathroom door open and it bugged her to no end - but being paralyzed means you are at the mercy of those with legs that work and their level of concern with your wishes.
I totally got why the bathroom door being opened bugged her, who wants to stare at a toilet all day long? So, in effort to ease her discomfort in the hours my family was not there to repeatedly shut the door,I placed the plant on the shelf thinking, maybe just maybe it would give her something to stare at instead of the commode.
When she left Virginia, that plant came home with me.
It has been sitting in my house, lonely for her eyes ever since.
Recently I thought it looked starved for light and so I put it on the front porch railing, thinking, yay for direct sunlight and yay for me having face time with Nana's plant as I sit on my porch. listening to the birds and drinking my morning coffee.
And then before my eyes, there was this nest. And when I say nest I say wow a work of art labor of love. Funny how we humans refer to the pre-baby time as nesting....This Momma Robin bird built her babies the most beautiful place to grow - I mean really the intricacies of her work are astounding to the eye - she did this with just a beak? Oh the the things a Mother will do...
And so, I have been thinking on this Robin and her TWO blue eggs that sit in a nest in my Nana's potted plant. I have been thinking a lot about what this may mean?
Maybe nothing - but that's bullshit, everything means something!
Is it pure coincidence that with all the trees, Momma Robin chose Nan's plant pot?
I think not.
I choose to believe, that me and the bird and the eggs and the nest and the plant and my Nana are all there together. And that maybe there is a message for me there.
Yes, there is a message for sure.
Maybe Nana is talking to me by way of the wind and maybe she whistled to that Robin to come show me the circle of life to ease my worried mind?
Maybe she is getting ready to say goodbye and is leaving part of her spirit here with me?
Maybe she is using the birds to tell me to write my damn book - The Canary Memoirs?
Maybe it's none of those things - But I KNOW it is something.
And so I wait, in my creaky ass middle aged body, feeling the sands of time dwindle in numbers and watch up close - on my own front porch the cycle of life unfold in nature. I wait for the meaning...
I get why she loved the birds and I get why I see myself as a 'bird not of this earth'
I feel a lesson and a book and a tattoo coming on...
Love and peace. peeps - have a Blessed and beautiful Friday.

shhhhhh

We meet again, me and my purple lap top...
I am sitting on my front porch, DESPERATELY trying to escape Motherhood. Call me wicked, awful, a terrible person if you will, but honestly, sometimes a Mom just needs to NOT feel like one.
Right now, this very moment in time is one of them.
Thing is, sometimes I miss quiet so much that I hurt inside.
I get really, really tired of hearing my own voice micro manage every little detail of life x 4.
Oh wait, 5 if you count mine...
That sentence right there cuts to the very heart of what I am feeling -
I - get lost - in them, and then I can't find myself even when standing in front of a mirror.
I wouldn't trade my babies for anything in the world.
I just sometimes wish that the other life I could have had existed simultaneously with the one I do have.
Imagine if there were a portal I could step through that would lead me to that place every once in a great while - how cool it would be to know the other me.
I bet she is a writer who lives in a small contemporary loft in NYC and that her bathroom sink is clean of toothpaste remnants.
I don't want to be her, I just wish I knew her.
I am not by any means settling by being the frazzled basket case who is hiding on her porch, typing on the box by the Robin's nest with two brilliantly blue eggs.
This life is grand - I just miss the quiet is all, and miss myself in the midst of the chaos and noise.
Motherhood is a full time job and I have been at it for twenty one years....
Twenty one long years - crazy to see those words before me...
Well... the kids have found me and are now DESPERATELY trying to convince me that ice cream is the answer to their contentment.
I guess the jig is up - back to the grind.

Kiss like sugar

Hey Blog readers,
So this morning as I attempted to de-frizz my mop top whilst standing in the humidity of the bathroom, I heard the front door close and realized that my kids were heading off to school without kisses. I began to yell "HEY HEYYYYYY" so that they would turn their little tails around and complete the morning ritual, to no avail- closed windows, ugh. As I sped towards the front door clad in nothing but my towel, I swung it open fiercely and almost fell right over Mimzy who had Not in fact heard me yelling, BUT she herself had realized that our puckers had not pressed together, she was coming back of her own accord to smooch it up with her Mommy. Phew...
I was blown away by the magnitude of the kiss I received, Holy Cow, my girl can kiss. Now maybe it is just that she has my full lips and so when they meet it's like yin - yang or like puzzle pieces fitting together, but personally I think my girl has just got some mad kissing skills.
Which leads me to the broader topic...
Kissing...
Is this an either you got it or you don't thing or can it be learned like any skill, fine tuned and tweaked to perfection? But wait, should kissing really need to be worked at???
I don't know, I just do not have the answer.
I will say that kissing is really important to me and honestly throughout the course of my life, with the exception of few, I have felt unbelievably let down by lips pressing against mine.
Now my Grandfather - he could kiss. He would vacuum suck my entire face off when I was a kid and yes, I admit it, I liked it. It's true that I would need a towel to mop off the excess saliva left on my face after he greeted me and it's also true that sometimes I hesitated going in for the kill, but despite the wide mouthed bass nature of my Papa's lips, what made his kisses the bomb were that he would grab hold of my little face and pull me in like he meant it. When he gave me kisses, I knew I was his little Pumpkin and I knew that I was loved because I FELT it. I loved his kisses so much that I even spoke about them in his eulogy - Oh Papa how I miss you...
When Mimz and I kiss it is the same way, BAM lightening bolt straight to my heart, I love this kid and reciprocity, she loves me back.
Our kisses communicate, they speak the language that kisses should speak,our kisses say what we are feeling.
The one this morning, in my towel on the porch said "My day would have sucked so bad had this not happened" - I felt it - she felt it- lippers against mine = relief for us both, normalcy, routine, permission to advance through the remaining day.
In addition to Papa and the Mimz, I would say my Nan is also a great smoocher, she's got game too.
Now to the really, really, sad and depressing part - the romantic kiss...
In my mind, and please tell me if I am wrong, the romantic kiss should leave you feeling lightheaded and dizzy every time - not recoiling in horror whilst simultaneously choking on a tongue.
I realize that there are aggressive women kissers who get into all that tonsil hockey shit, but I say, yeah no, not me, no thanks...
When lovers Kiss it should communicate, I am so unbelievably hot for you, NOT - I am trying to kill you by way of the Anaconda in my mouth.
A lover's kiss should say, I want you so bad I'm in physical pain with yearning, NOT -
let me cause you physical pain by breaking off your front tooth by smashing into it with mine.
Romantic kisses should speak the language of love.
Now again, I acknowledge, different strokes for different folks - maybe you like to be gagged and who am I to say "yuck" to your "yeah" - maybe if you are a man and reading this, you should consult with your lady before changing your style based on my suggestions...
At any rate here they are, take it or gag on it, your choice...
Lips are soft, let them press gently.
Let them move by way of the emotion leading up to the kiss.
Open your mouth, feel the warmth, don't however climb in to it with your whole body.
Touch other places too, a hand on a face says, I so want to be here.
Run some fingers through, even grab a little hair - loosely. (this is PG 13 people please)
Have the tongues say hello but don't have them tie in a knot or twist about uncontrollably.
Breathe while you kiss, nothing says yowza more than a little exhaled moan.
Let her lead, dance the same dance - don't dougie when she is doing the tango.
And finally, say what you mean with your mouth using absolutely no words.
A bazillion years ago at a New Years Eve party, a very intoxicated me took full advantage of the one night a year it is customary to kiss a lot of people,
It went like this -
Snowy Winter night, huge NorEaster - walls of snow. About two am, clubs had closed and everyone was gathering in the woods at a house of someone I did not know. Kimmie and I walked (stumbled) down the long driveway together, trying not to fall on the sheets of ice thicker than a rink. People were everywhere in hardcore party mode, loud music thumping from the house, continuous laughter, FUN FUN FUN all around us. Kim stopped to talk to someone and I saw a mutual friend coming, a good male friend, he was in a crowd moving up the path. The excited Happy New Year wishes began to exchange between us all, and then it happened....
"Heyyyyyyy Happy Newwww Yearrr" I smiled big and wrapped my arms about his neck to give him a hug,
he said "where's my kiss" and I shrugged, well what was one more? - so in I went.
HOLY HELL....
That boy pressed his big sweet smile right on top of mine and proceeded to kiss me so deeply,so sweetly and so slowly, my cheeks flooded with heat as did the rest of me and I fell limp right there in his familiar arms. When it finally ended and we drew apart, our smiles were even bigger than when we began. I remember thinking, as he was pulled him away from me, lingering on his smile as he continued to find my eyes despite the yanking, I thought aloud, DAMNNNNNNNN.
For a second I thought I had dreamed it, that was until I saw the sparkle in my eye glint off a snow bank....
The kiss said, "I have wanted to do that to you for so long"...
I have never forgotten that kiss and have been hard pressed to find a repeat in the years following...
Kisses are so intimate, faces meeting in the motion of love....
Ahhhh.... and so, I guess my point is this - make your kisses talk.
Make your kisses really communicate, and please if you happen to kiss me, please don't let it say, wow your trachea tastes good...

life is but a Monet....

Hi,
So as I was just driving home from school, windows down, DMB blaring, left foot up on the dash, I thought - I could go on like this forever. Just drive and drive and drive on an open country road with all the green at my eyes, the breeze in my hair, the music in my ears and the sweet smell of fresh grass and blooms in my breaths.
And then I thought of impressionistic art, and how that medium encapsulates what life comes down to. A series of ever changing impressions.
Monet that crazy, brilliant man, put up canvas after canvas after canvas and went back and forth between many works of the same subject - painting different hues created by the light of early morning and then the late afternoon sunset smolder.
And what Monet saw, may not be what I would have seen even to stand right beside him. I love that. I love impression.
And then I took the thought one step further and I thought,
well if you have wicked seasonal allergies, this scene I am wanting to drive off into, may be the worst thing you have even seen...Maybe you may see nothing for all the water in your itchy burning eyes, heck breathing in that fresh cut lush grass could very well cause you pain....My heavenly day could be your hand basket straight to hell.
And, is there really someone out there that doesn't love the Dave Matthews Band?
Could Dave's voice be like nails on the chalkboard to you? (I mean I cannot even fathom the thought, but whatever I guess anything is possible)...
Life is all impressions, unique, individual and to each his/her own.
I love that, again I say, I love that.
What we see is rarely, or if ever what someone else sees. What we see is only our impression, just yours and just mine.
I'm not sure why I though that was worth a quick mention, but I did....
Peace out for now.

I let you down...tail between my legs...

Good Evening,
Man is it beautiful out...
Forgiveness....Hmmmmm, what exactly is that?
Last night I watched a PBS program on the necessity of forgiveness and the steps that must be followed in order for this state of peaceful resolve to be attained.
It was interesting to say the least as the examples provided ranged from a Mother who left her children in order to find her true self, to the Rwandan genocide and the German burden of guilt for the Holocaust. It was heavy pre-sleep material to put it lightly.
I woke up this morning in a continuum of the thoughts I was in before my much needed slumber was finally attained. My mind was racing as I tried to find calm and snooze.
The documentary basically asserted that forgiveness is necessary in the face of pain or basically you re-live the wrong-doing again and again. If in fact death is involved, you die another death (an emotional one)
I would agree that forgiveness is essential to living a full life.
That however, is a lot easier said than done....
One absolute, is the necessity of proper steps to a legit apology. These are (for the wrong do-er) accept responsibility, apologize and ask forgiveness.
My question is what do you do, if the wrong do-er doesn't take those steps?
Is there a way to really forgive if the crime is not admitted and owned?
What if the wrong is denied and ignored and worst of all, put on you?
Then what?
I have had to forgive a lot of people in my life and I have had to beg forgiveness a few times myself.
This whole process, from either side of the coin, is extremely difficult, pain staking and life altering.
There are a few people I need to forgive, their crimes live deep deep in the recesses of my hidden, private heart.
There is one person (who I will not name), whom I desperately want to forgive but she won't let me.
And here I feel stuck and helpless because I just do not know how to get over that hurdle, that step of accepting responsibility.
I know that for her, she CANNOT face the blame and WILL not, EVER...
I know that no tragedy, illness or death-bed goodbye even, will cause her to budge from her safe place of denial.
I wish it were not so, but I would bet my life on it, she is permanently un-moveable.
And so, I am left holding the bag of pain, and in her sad, lonely eyes all the blame.
This totally sucks for me.
I mean totally, totally sucks.
I would like to say that now because I am a grown up girl and can better understand all the pain that this person had to go through in her life, that it makes it easier to forgive and forget - BUT,
that just isn't so, at least for me in this particular circumstance.
I understand her so much better than I did and that DOES relieve me of some of the fault I placed on myself for her lack of love - but it just doesn't = forgiveness, at least it sure doesn't feel like it when I am completely honest with myself.
(And of course you in blog land...)
So, what I have come to in my head for today, is that for now, I haven't quite moved on...
I want her to say she is sorry and she never will.sigh.
In order for me to be a part of her life, she has to do this - at the very least accept SOME responsibility for the burden she has given me. Until that happens (won't) I will have to continue to work on this process inside myself and try to find some state of peace minus that piece of the puzzle and her.
I will say, that for the most part I am not angry anymore.
I feel a great relief from being able to understand her even where she fails to understand herself and that makes all my rage dissipate in the flood of knowing...
And, I love her.... I always will. Regardless of, and in spite of, the broken off arrow that hangs out of my heart which her very bow has driven there.

This weekend I got in a small car accident - totally my fault.
I plowed in to a young lady driving her dads car as I backed out of my driveway, my stupid windshield wipers wouldn't shut off and I was distracted, I looked away.
I got out of the car and asked if everyone was okay and then proceeded to do the steps
1. accept responsibility
2. apologize
3. ask forgiveness...
I hugged these people like a million times until it occurred to me that maybe me being nice was annoying.
I said, "Is it making this better or worse that I am so sorry, cause if you need to be mad at me, I can totally take it?"
they laughed and told me I was sweet, and Dad, well when he showed up, pulled away from his fishing trip, there to assess the damage, well he hugged me too.
I thought to myself - well I did that right, if there is one thing I am good at, it is saying what needs to be said.
Forgiveness is so much easier minus the anger, so maybe I am getting closer with she who won't be named.... Maybe one day the hurt will dull like the anger did and maybe then forgiveness will appear before my eyes and say, "the steps aren't necessary if you practice them yourself"
I don't know if that will happen, but I sure hope so.
And so, if I had to sum up my thoughts for the day - if I had a message to deliver to those who want to hear it,
Do the steps.
Just do them and save the pain for when it counts for something that you have absolutely no control over.
God Knows (or Allah or Buddha) there are plenty of those circumstances to go around, lots of shoes in the air getting ready to drop....
Just do the steps....