The universe seems to love delivering lessons in the most in-your-face, take that, oh-yeah ways sometimes.  But the lesson sticks I will say that.  Last week was tough due to some issues I’m having with an employee.  At first it didn’t bother me but as more information came out, she started throwing some inflammatory words around that cut me.  The things she was saying were beyond false, and I didn’t want to have to go through the exercise of explaining myself all over again.  I didn’t want to take the time to prove again and again that I wasn’t the things she said I was.  I felt emotionally drained and abused, confused, and unsure of what to do next—this was all on the word of another person so it essentially was a game of he sad-she said (She-said she-said?).  I got home and my husband wanted to play darts.  I legitimately was not in the mood given the circumstances at work and he pushed a bit.  I finally told him I didn’t want to play and have this turn into something that isn’t fun anymore.  He understood but I could tell he was upset—he (and I) love playing darts together—it is a bonding thing for us—so I didn’t want to ruin it but I also didn’t want to disappoint him in that moment so I changed my mind and said I would play a round with him.

He annihilated me—I mean, the game wasn’t even fair.  Playing 901, he had nearly a 300 point lead—I knew I hadn’t been in the mindset to play because if this happened I would freak out—and I did.  I took everything personally, feeling like I just couldn’t get it together.  I don’t begrudge him his games, his on night, but when I struggle THAT badly, the games quickly loses its luster.  On top of the fact I was already emotionally tapped, this was quickly becoming a recipe for disaster.  Next thing I know, I’m incredibly frustrated with just how poorly I’m playing and telling him I didn’t want to play in the first place, and freaking out a bit…it was a total woe-is-me moment and totally unnecessary.  Literally out of nowhere, I start to catch up—after yelling at him for doing well, asking him how come he couldn’t do that when he plays the tournaments—I was vicious for no reason other than I felt shitty.  I got embarrassed, then I won.  Again after yelling at him for having a really good game, I just couldn’t keep up, I couldn’t get my mind on it.  I started to cry, feeling exhausted. It was never about fucking winning the game—I want him to do well.  It was never about him—it was about me missing my target and thinking it was indicative of something else going on in my life—like I would always fall short or miss my mark.   

I had been feeling so unsupported by the universe, unsure of how to move forward with work, concerned for my reputation because of the things this woman said about me, I lost track of what I was doing and completely took it out on my husband.  And now, after making a scene and putting on a show filled with dramatics and darts thrown through insulation, I won the damn game.  I felt like it was a cosmic sign to calm the fuck down, the universe has everything in order.  There was no reason to get that upset while playing darts, specifically not get mad at my husband—and I knew that prior to starting the game and even in the middle of my meltdown. For something that was ultimately my husband trying to calm me down (doing something that would calm him, not me), I still wanted to do this together, I wanted to bond with him and have fun.  So…I guess it was also saying when I think something is going to go a certain way or it can look like it’s going a certain way, there are always surprises.  There is always something else and we can end up coming from behind in some Cinderella story and win the whole damn thing.  The universe has its own plans, we are literally just here for the ride. We know very little of the universe and the way it works—sometimes we learn through trial and error, sometimes we learn through darts.