I’ve always admired the philosophy behind the phrase, “Don’t sweat the small stuff.” It makes a lot of sense: Devote your energies to the big decisions along life’s path and simply step over the little vexations that litter your daily byways.
It’s such good advice. I wish I could follow it.
I do have the first part down. With maturity and a wider range of life choices, I’ve learned to handle major decisions calmly and intelligently. They’re not stress-free decisions, but I make them and stick by them. When it comes to career moves, child care, large expenditures and financial planning, I’m doing just fine, thank you.
It’s the small stuff that tests my endurance. Refinancing my house is no problem, but if my new white sweater sheds fuzz balls on my black slacks, I get crazy. A career change I can take in stride, yet if I seal the envelope to my telephone bill and then discover the check is still on my desk, I panic.
Maybe it’s because there’s just so much small stuff. And it’s stuff that seems to repeat itself.
Pens and pencils always disappear from the drawer nearest my telephone.
Spaghetti sauce seeks out my light-colored clothing with the dependability of radar.
T-shirt logos melt at the touch of my iron, children forget their lunches on my busiest day at work and food invariably drips from the top shelf down in my refrigerator.
Small stuff always rears its head at the wrong time, too. Appliances break the weekend that house guests are expected. The self-serve gas pump surges to $10.13 when I’m down to my last $10 bill. Could my umbrella ever be within easy reach when the skies open? Heck no.
Small stuff is never isolated either. It seems to build on itself like the crumbs in the crack between the cupboards and the stove. For instance, last week I ran to the grocery on my lunch hour, only to realize I’d left my shopping list at home. It’s a small thing, I told myself. No problem.
I whizzed up and down the aisles with programmed efficiency and then picked the checkout line that, of course, was going for the all time price-check record. Hey, it’s no big thing. So you’re running a little behind, I said.
When at last it was my turn to check out, my coupon for six boxes of tissues had expired. Just a little slipup. Where is that aspirin I bought, I wondered, rummaging through my grocery cart.
Then I found out I had used the last blank check in my checkbook to pay the telephone bill. Just a little-Drat! I have to run home to get a check and come back to pay for these groceries. I`ll be late getting back to work. My keys-they’re lost somewhere in the bottom of my purse.
Home at last-I forgot to buy cream of mushroom soup for the casserole I was going to fix tonight.
And so it goes. In fact, the very nature of small stuff can make it seem like really big stuff, only worse. Choosing which automobile to buy can be decided logically, sensibly. I can consult a consumer buying guide. I can assess my financial position, compare prices and search for rebates. But small stuff doesn’t work that way. There is no Guide to Foods That Explode in the Microwave. Nor are there any market studies on why children spill their milk on the day the floor is scrubbed. Just try finding statistics on how often buttonholes are too small for their buttons.
There are no noble small-stuff conquests, only constant skirmishes, hot-footed retreats and an occasional brief standoff. Maybe that’s because after a day of conducting conference calls or wading through plans for a new house, having the bottom fall out of your grocery bag on the way in from the garage can be the last straw.
And that’s why, when it comes to the small stuff, it’s best to keep it simple: Just sweat it out.
