I dreamt about a button the other night. This particular button is on a shirt I wore more often than I should have last week–a consequence of frantic packing for an unplanned trip–and it’s starting to come loose, leaving a thread that I found myself picking at absent-mindedly. In my dream, I pulled the thread and my shirt began to come apart at the seams. Not exactly a subtle message from my subconscious, given the events of the past 10 days: scary health stuff for very close family members, an emergency plane landing (not actually a huge deal, but on top of everything else…), and oh yeah, I turned 30 (that was actually awesome but not exactly minor).
Suffice to say, I’ve been feeling a bit like I’m not in control of things lately and if you know me at all, you know that this makes me a little…anxious. So I’ve been finding control where I can: I clean (every fridge I’ve been able to get my hands on is immaculate inside and out, mustards grouped together, sorry I didn’t get to the windows Mom); I bake (I am not above bribery via baked goods for healthcare workers to make sure my family is taken care of); I organize (my spices found new homes in perfect matching jars, with perfect clear labels); and, apparently, I sew.
If you want really detailed instructions on how to sew a button, the internet has plenty. For me, right now, I just wanted to keep this button from falling off, I don’t care how pretty or perfect it looks. So I pulled out my needle and thread, twisted a few knots, made a few loops, and called it a day. The button’s hanging in there, and so am I. It’s the best I can do.
Breathe. Everything will be ok.