I didn’t sleep a wink last night. Got up early and was not sleepy at all. In the kitchen (or the “kitchroom,” as I called it as a toddler, I reached over to turn on the faucet and it was coming loose from its moorings. Unperturbed, I called Mr. Plumber and asked for Rick Bills. He always does a great job and luckily, he came early this afternoon. I also showed him my bathroom sink and asked him if he could clean the drain, as it has been clogging up.

He took out the old faucet and replaced it with a new Moen one. He had to take out everything from under the sink and then put it all back in once he finished the job. Then he fixed my sink in the bathroom. Speaking of the kitchroom reminds me that I once told my mother when I was small, that my stomach had a headache. So much for me as a precocious toddler.

He left and a couple of hours later, the man from the AC and heating company came to get the AC ready for the hot weather. I pieced together some fake bacon, an egg and toast. Rob left for Trivia and now I am considering how hard I am on myself. And you are equally hard on yourself. It is simply the way that egos work.

I still don’t know whether I will get a root canal or have the tooth pulled. I should know by now, but I don’t. And so the Judge of Me points an accusing finger at me, as if one side of me asks the other side of me to make a rational decision!

I often eat a cookie or a piece of chocolate when this kind of stress starts up. How come I am always on the losing team of Me, Myself and I? I mean, come on….give me a break. Because I can’t give myself one.

Spirituality is a difficult subject for the ego, isn’t it? Splintered, fractured and dismembered, it has no idea how to become one with a capital “O.” Maybe Oprah did it, but moi?

Beneath the surface lies the beating heart of the problem, self-hatred. The ego, wanting to be its own god, somehow always comes in last while hoping to be first. Jesus had a parable about that, didn’t he?

We don’t understand anything as simple as surrender; we prefer complicated plot twists and contortions where we pat ourselves on the back while kicking ourselves in the rear. The ego has no control over any of its parts. They lie disassembled on the factory floor waiting for something to shift. And it never does.

I spent a lot of money today, between the plumber and the AC man. I found myself signing my name on iPads which they handed me while I became poorer and poorer. And I realized how tired I am of pretending. I just get stressed out being around people. I much prefer solitude at this time in my life. Maybe it’s the beginning of my second childhood. Now I’m off to the kitchroom before I go to bed.

Vicki Woodyard