Well played, God.....

Once in a while, I get stuck in my head. It's kinda hard to explain, but I just get down and a gang of emotions start to play racquetball in my head (must have a good court in there, because anxiety and frustration come to play quite often). It mainly just feels like a looped soundtrack of "Everything is going wrong." and "You can't fix it." Church didn't pull me out of it this morning, and usually the worst thing I can do is hole up in my room (life sucking force, I'm telling you) because it isolates me further and makes the voices that much more audible. So, I called up a church friend who let me come over. She did some work and knitting, while I knitted/watched a ridiculous Owen Wilson/Eddie Murphy spy movie with her boyfriend. I believe it prevented me from going completely manic, but as I was taking the bus home, I still felt the weight. Back in the room where hope cannot exist, I begun the one task that never fails to cheer me up - cleaning and reorganizing my room. First thing was to finally take down the three empty plastic jugs of bottled water to the recycling. I don't take my key, because the door to our apartment doesn't close on it's own, but I always have to take my entry card, because the door at the end of the stairs does close on it's own. (I know...I know....snore, just establishing background!) But as I exited my flat in a coma of drudgery, I automatically closed the door behind me. As soon as I heard the bolt click, I knew I had done it. It's 6:30 on a Sunday night, I don't know who is home. After dumping the bottles I push our buzzer....then I push it again....and again and again. Either one of two things are happening - none of my six flatmates are home, or they do what I do if I hear the buzzer, if I'm not expecting anyone, I ignore it. More buzzing. Nothing. And at that moment, my cloud of gloom breaks. Here I am, at the base of my flat, locked out, in the rain.... and the world didn't fall apart. In the face of something actually going wrong, I have to laugh at my anticipation of doom, all day long. For what felt like eternity, but was probably only a minute and a half, I stare up at my flat windows, hoping someone who lives in the rooms facing the courtyard are home. I catch sight of one, and I wave frantically.....she was always a bit spacey. As I consider looking for something to throw at her window, the flatmate above opens her window to light a cigarette (we are a "non-smoking" flat, after all) and she clearly wonders why I am looking up at her window in adoration. Instead of breaking into a Shakespearean soliloquy, I ask her to come let me in.
It's funny, I get so hung up on my feelings of inadequacy - that I am struggling so hard to get everything in it's place and God locks me out of my own flat to make me realize that it's not the point right now. My life didn't crumble as I was stranded in the rain, nor will it cease to be significant if my proverbial ducks aren't lined up in a row...maybe I should look into getting real ducks. Or penguins, I think they move slower and look much cooler. As I walked back into my room, I could only laugh at my self and say "Well played, God. Well played."

PS For those of you who are wondering, why doesn't she just go do some studying (right, Dad?), I would have, but apparently the fees department at Goldsmiths feels like I owe them some money. But, instead of sending me a letter, email, or give me a call, they shut down my campus account - which includes my campus email and library entry. I've always heard the British are passive aggressive, but, seriously. Wouldn't have been too traumatic, except I didn't discover this until 4:00 on Friday afternoon (go ahead, ask me what I was doing at the library on a Friday night) and the office closes at 3:30 on Fridays, because you know, they have better things to do. I feel like Sandra Bullock in The Net. You know, the one where she discovers this web-conspiracy and then goes on vacation to Mexico and they steal her wallet and steal her identity with this creepy inter-connected thing called the internet. If I come home from work tomorrow and there is someone else living in my dorm room....well, they can have it, but I'm taking my stuffed hippo!