Better Late Than Never

I'm remembering a song this morning with words that say something like, "Pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and start all over again!" It has an upbeat tempo and was introduced in a movie decades ago, but the sentiment is classic. None of us is perfect and life can run amok on occasion. But as I am quick to tell my students: it's not what happens; it's what happens after that.

Last week was finals week, which means I was giving and grading exams, grading papers and journals, computing grades, and talking innumerable students down off the ceiling where they had somehow wound up because of anxiety levels that had them careening from one meltdown to another. Needless to say, it's tough on all of us.

Then, out of nowhere, somebody with an entirely different set of issues kicked the doors in at two of the apartments in my building (during the day on different occasions) and, since my place was the only one left unscathed, I was afraid to go to work. I called some very nice men to set up an alarm system -- pronto. The police went into high gear and found the culprit, who was arrested. So I proceeded to finish my grading, attend graduation, and report my grades to the Powers-That-Be.

All's well that ends well...right?

Then I realized that Sunday had come and gone without me blogging on how I manage my diabetes, a commitment I had made months ago and to which I had adhered religiously since. I mean, how can you find out about my book, Your Life Isn't Over ~ It May Have Just Begun! if there's nothing out there to let you know it exists?

I'm not really over the stress of the past ten days yet (which I dealt with by at least making a big pot of homemade gumbo -- low in carb and high in protein -- so I wouldn't resort to living on sandwiches). I only worked out once the whole week and never hit the park to run at all (unlike my usual three or four times). I didn't meditate. I didn't do breathing exercises. And I bought ten gourmet coconut pecan cookies which I ate two at a time with coffee to keep myself from slitting my wrists. It's a miracle my glucose wasn't through the roof. (Though it wasn't, for which I'm grateful.)

But the bottom line is that it's all over. The grades are in. The alarm system is installed. The cookies are all eaten (and won't be replaced any time soon). The burglar is in jail. I'm getting ready to head for the park. And I'm posting to this blog -- two days late -- but it's not what happens; it's what happens after that. Upward and onward!