Stop Playing the Victim

“You are not the victim of your choices.”

The other day I was wallowing in self-pity – another day of not doing. I hadn’t worked toward any of my goals. The manufacturers of my living room couch just had to make it so incredibly comfortable, didn’t they? Facebook needed so much of my attention. I wasn’t feeling like my futile attempts were getting me anywhere, so why bother? I was playing the victim role – even though the situation I was in was totally in my control.

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When Bad Things Happen to Good Mugs

I had great intentions.
I was almost in dreamland last night when I realized I had forgotten to put the wet laundry into the dryer. Sometimes if it stays overnight in the washer, it can smell musty, so I rushed downstairs – miraculously avoiding the sleeping dog on the floor by my bed and switched the clothes over to the dryer.
Mission accomplished, right?
Nope. I thought I would be a baller and tidy up the recroom a bit.
Secretly, I just wanted to bring the mug I had been using upstairs so I could use it for coffee or tea in the morning.
My favourite mug, I might add.
It was my favourite for a few reasons.
It was huge and pretty.
It was also thick and wide brimmed.
It was also free. I won it at a wedding shower last year.
Just look at ‘er:
 PicMonkey Photo
She is beautiful.
I am pretty sure she’ll fit a good 8 oz and that makes her all the more glorious.
I ran with Mug upstairs and noticed the counter had a dirty butter knife on it and decided to put that in the dishwasher as well.
Unsurprisingly, in my midnight stupor, I swiped the butter knife onto the floor with one hand, holding Mug in the other.
With a clang, the knife flew off the counter and onto the ceramic tile.
Not thinking, I let go of Mug.
Ceramic tile be damned.
She’s even beautiful while she sleeps eternally.
I don’t know where Mug is from.
It could be a dollar store mug, or a fancy mug from the Fancy Mug store.
Either way, her value was not on the amount she cost, or even the liquid gold she held for my consumption.
I just really liked her, dammit.
She was just one thing – ONE THING – that I looked forward to in my morning routine.
Sometimes we sipped and read the news on the deck while the little played in the backyard.
Once or twice she came on our walks to the mailbox – or even on a short car ride.
There was a time when I thought Mug was lost.
Turns out Husband was quite fond of her too – but he was irresponsible and left her in his work truck amongst some dirty tools.
He never used her again.
So there she goes. Ready for the recycling box of broken glass.
She will fit in well with the beautiful mercury glass candle stick Toddler broke just after Christmas.
Did I mention I had good intentions at the time?
I was going to clean her up and we were going to have another day together.
Yeah sure, she was abused and used as much as I wanted, but I never meant to hurt her.
Sometimes it happens when we mean to do good things – at least we think they are good. We have done them all along, even though they are a bit self-serving.
We may have this thing that we love, we almost take for granted, get a little reckless and then it all comes crashing down.
Mug is broken and can not be repaired.
I have done this exact same thing figuratively so many times.
I have had great intentions, lovely things – and I either drop them or throw them away.
Relationships, friendships, bonds of trust and even my own personal virtues.
I have broken many.
All too often they are broken beyond repair.
Of course, we could slap some glue and tape on Mug and she might hold out for a day, or give one last offering – but the damage has been done.
I am sure I will find a replacement somewhere.
Maybe it will be a blue one and we will forget about the accident.
My wine glasses are currently throwing me shade glances from their perch in the curio cabinet.
Fuck them.
Sometimes all they hold are bitter tastes and headaches.
They have their place, but it is not today.
Today –
I am Mug.
Love Yourself and Love the Things You Love Because You Can,