And here it is:  that panic that starts to creep in  hits me like a ton of bricks.

I got the other situation resolved, at least for now.  I’ve spent much of the day laughing, singing, hopping and skipping around as I usually do when I’m in a good mood.  Remembering faith last night really did help.  And then, of course, comes another problem.

I’m supposed to be close to buying the house.  The house of my dreams, the house that fits me so perfectly, the house I drool over, the house that is far too good to be true.  The house I am supposed to be buying within the next month and a half or so.  It’s time to revisit the financial situation – I need to find where I’m at.  It’s just about time to start moving on things.

I remember now why I’ve made the practice of avoidance my favorite pastime.

I get off the phone with the credit company.  I’ve progressed, but it’s still not quite where I want to be.  I can’t let the panic set in.  I can’t get shaken.  Breathe.  It will be okay.  I call the specialist back and talk to her more to find some peace of mind, to find some calm.  Still doable.  Yes, it will be okay.  Obstacle conquered, there’s no need to panic  Now.  It’s time to find and review my budget.

I start talking to myself, which is nothing entirely new, all while sifting through far too many papers and empty written-on envelopes that are tucked away into my filing cabinet.  “Where is my budget?  Where did I put it?  Why can’t I find my budget?!  Where is it?!”  The same budget that took all the energy I had to make.  The same budget that I bitched and moaned about creating.  The budget that I wrote out while kicking and screaming like a little ninny.  “Where is my effing budget?!”

Okay.  This too will be okay.  Breathe.  Breathe in peace.  Breathe in peace.  Breathe in – “Dammit!”

I rush inside the house to look around frantically.  (My filing cabinet is a bag that I keep tucked away in my car.  Long story, don’t put too much effort into thinking about it.)  I start to panic and I find nothing.  I can’t find it anywhere.  “Where the hell is my budget?!”  My kids stare at me.  This too is nothing new – they’re used to me randomly going off half-cocked like some kind of crazy.  “Girls,” I demand, “where is it?  Where is my budget?!”

*crickets*

Finally, “I don’t know,” replies my youngest.  “I was sitting on it the other day and you told me to move so I didn’t ruin it.”

And here is the sigh – the infamous “Sigh”.

I rush upstairs, it has to be there.  I tear apart my desk, I check under my bed, I look under my laptop and my laptop desk.  “Dammit!”

Defeated, I sit on my bed.  It’s time to have a heart to heart with myself.  Me and I are going to have a ‘come to Jesus meeting’, if you will.  “Alright.  It’s okay.  This is not the worst that can happen.  You’ve done it once, you can do it again.  You can write up another budget.  It’s not that bad, just pick up with where you are right now.  You can do this.  You can do this!  You will do this, you know why?  Because you effing need to, Brandi!  Get off your ass and do it!”

I find a sliver of motivation and attempt it.

I check my bank account, I figure the hours and pay on my next check, I attempt to remember the money for the bills I have going out.  Now, just start writing it down, just write it all down.  “How am I supposed to get the money I need by November 15th?  What did I have written in my budget, because my finances look nothing like they should!”

And here I am.  Lying on my bed typing this post.  This is much better than writing out that effing budget.  Sleep, sleep sounds really nice.  “It’s not too early to go to bed tonight.  Never mind the things that you should do, they will be there waiting for you tomorrow.  The bed is so comfortable.  It’s nice.  It’s safe.  You don’t have to worry about a thing here.”

And I’m avoiding – my best skill.

I’m teetering in some odd emotion that’s wedged somewhere between anger and anxiety.  I’m antsy, my heart is racing, my head is spinning.  I’m rapidly tapping my fingernails on my laptop, which I remember annoys my friend, Nancy.  And all the sudden I remember her, the calm she always manages to bring me, the perfect words she always seems to say, “I can see peace instead of this.”

After lying here another half hour letting it all go, I’m off to look for my budget.  I do need the old one and I know I’ll find it.  It’s here somewhere.  Calmly and peacefully, without panic or fear, I move forward.  Out of my bed – out of my comfort zone into action – again.