This morning, when I took a sip of my chai latte and realized the barista had used the wrong milk — that in fact, my $5 dollar ‘coffee’ drink was incorrect and therefore, unenjoyable, I began to cry.

I sat at the red light two intersections away and despite my best efforts, sobbed. I don’t know why — at that moment, about that subject — that I seemed to break wide open.  But there it was.  All I could think about was the fact that I had anticipated the enjoyment of my morning drink, and it was wrong.  And therefore — according to my ‘in the moment’ logic — my entire day, my entire existence had been ruined.

It is a little silly in retrospect.

I ended up driving to my local Starbucks, and without any questions (perhaps it was my tear-stained face and the full venti cup I held forth to them) they made me a new drink.

But the entire scenario put something very clearly into perspective for me.  I am holding it together by a thread right now.  Everything is setting me off — crazy situations at work, troubling emails from my relatives — an incorrect drink at Starbucks.  These are all things I have encountered in the past and at no time did they instigate hyperventilating water works.

So when I look back at June 2015, I hope this post reminds me that all the change, all the uncertainty — all the unknowns — those things have been very challenging for me.  This girl of routine and habits.  That mixed in with all the excited anticipation is a healthy dose of fear.  Fear of failure, fear of things going wrong.  Fear of making mistakes.