Wrangler Dani

Writer, editor, wife, adoptive mama and cowgirl living in beautiful Central Oregon.

72 hours. I think I can, I think I can…

So yesterday, I was working on Clark (my hard-working lappy) (his Hard Drive is the Fortress of Barnitude and the thumb drive is Sneaky Pete, for any of you Smallville fans who might appreciate that) all morning and decided to go to the gym.

Clark went to sleep and I went to burn off the carbs I’d been dutifully shoving in my face all morning. I came home, all endorphin-y and sweaty, only to find that Clark’s face was gone. Ka-put. Black screen of nothingness. Black hole, Star Trek-style. Of course, being the incredibly stable and emotionally secure individual that I always am, I texted my Help Center, AKA The Hubs. He dutifully went to the Source of All Wisdom (the internetz) but nothing he found worked. (I don’t know why I was incapable of using Sir Google, oh yeah, I remember, I was too busy melting down.)

Um, so before you think I’m totally crazy, let me tell you what happened the last time this happened. Adam and I were “just dating” at the time, and once again I was trying to make a living with naught but the power of prose. Too bad prose needs a computer instead of just some inspiration and pen. Stupid technology. Anyhoodle, I dutifully took my old lappy (Wallace, after Sir William, NOT icky Mel Gibson) and spent a full day at the Genius Bar in Fashion Island, finally ending with a shrug, the purchase of a back-up hard-drive, a new laptop, and a very costly lesson. After that fun adventure, I walked out to the parking lot and discovered that Rocky (my truck, in case you didn’t know) would not start. Adam was called. So was a tow-truck. More money was spent. Tears were shed. Looking back I’m still kindof amazed that Adam signed up for being with me, seeing as how melting down is one of my most prominent skills.

So back to yesterday. Once again, Clark is my livelihood. He calls it a day. I make an appointment at the Genius Bar, promptly start crying and imagining that Rocky is about to call it a day as well and I might as well find a camel for my transportation and a parchment for my prose, since my future is looking bleak. (See? I’m SO good at the meltdown. Epic.)

I missed my appointment at the Apple Store Genius Bar. I don’t even know why.  I’m sure it was somebody else’s fault. While I stare vacantly at store windows and wait fo rthe next opening, I get this text from my Knight in Shining Armor: “It’s going to be OK, baby. trust God. It may suck, but we’ll figure out what’s best for us, OK? I love you, be strong!”

Y’all.

I realized as soon as I read that, even if I completely had to replace Clark, even if Rocky got stolen or blew up or something awful happened, that I already have no business not trusting God. Because He gave me my Hubs. And my Hubs know just what to say when my anxiety takes on epic proportions, he knows me so well and loves me anyway.

I gave it up. I cried, but this time not because I needed to “fix it” or be perfect or because I felt cheated by Somebody, but because I felt dumb, and oh-so-grateful. Y’all, this summer is going to be tough. I know that the freelance life is hard, and I know that I will want to quit, I’ll want to cry, I’ll want to turn around, and run back to safety. But I also know that I need to pursue it, and when I have to run, my safety is this – my Lord and the incredible man he gave me.

(PS – Clark is getting repaired for FREE – it’s a known issue with this model of laptops, apparently, and Rocky has yet to blow up. Oh, and I get Clark back in 72 hours, and miss him dreadfully, hence the title of this post. The “I think I can” is the whole “trusting God” part. See how it all came together? Whew.)