Confused Woman!

Have you ever wondered about fate?  Why things happen the way they do?  I am always analyzing everything, wondering why I was put in a certain situation.  For example, if you applied to college and had to back out then went to another school where you met your future husband.  What if you hadn’t backed out?  You would have never met your husband.  How about narrowly missing an accident.  If you would have been a couple seconds earlier, your car would have been smashed and you’d be in the back of an ambulance.

This could simply be a case of the “what-if’s” which I massively suffer from.  However, it could be related to fate and how everything happens for a reason, whether good or bad.  For example, as I was walking from the gym to my office a squirrel fell from a tree.  It was a pretty hard fall.  I figure the squirrel either fell asleep or was suicidal.  Either way, if I would have been a few seconds faster, the squirrel would’ve fallen right on my head.  Now, that would be a great video for YouTube, bad for me.

So, there’s fate for you.  You never know what will cross your path and why.  Even if it does turn out to be bad or bizarre, at least it will give you something good to talk (or write) about!

Now that it is getting warmer out and more summer-like, I have been thinking about the simple pleasures.  Nothing extravagant.  Nothing expensive.  Simple.  Pleasurable.  For example:  a hug and good morning kiss from my four year-old, a warm breeze, birds chirping in the early morning hours, and opening my car windows and sunroof while I blast my favorite song.

The older I get, the more I realize I don’t care about having tons of money or being famous.  Both are way overrated and very superficial.  I would much rather have a smaller home so I have extra money to travel or buy the new outfit I really want.  I would rather be anonymous so I don’t have some photographers following me while I’m trying to buy tampons at the drugstore.

Satisfaction doesn’t just come from getting the next pay raise or promotion.  I’m happy to have a job where I have the flexibility to take off a day at the last minute simply because I want to.  When I leave my job, I’m done.  No phone calls, e-mails, or pagers following me.  Nice.

So, the next time you’re chasing after the almighty dollar, stop and think about how important that really is.  After all, you can’t take it with you and it doesn’t get you any closer to the front of the line at the Pearly Gate.

Yup, the time had come…the dreaded colonoscopy.  I can’t say I was exactly excited to go through this process, a necessary evil.  However, compared to death, it seemed quite pleasant.  You would think the procedure itself would be the horrible part…oh, contraire.  That’s the easy part.  The worst part is prepping.  Pure hell.

First, you have to starve on a liquid diet.  So, for 26 hours I lived off of broth, white grape juice, water, and regular soda.  Yum.  If this is what it takes to be skinny I’d rather be fat.  Next, is the four laxatives followed by a drum of nasty liquid.  The nurses recommend mixing a little Crystal Light into the drum to make the sludge taste better.  Yeah…wow, what a difference.  Thanks for that recommendation.

You drink this crap 8 ounces at a time every 15 minutes until half the drum is gone, followed by parking yourself on the toilet for the next 8 hours.  I somehow managed to get a minute or two of sleep in between toilet visits but had to wake at 2:15am to start the process again.  More delicious Crystal Light flavored sludge.  More time spent on the toilet.  Jolly good fun.

My husband had the pleasure of not only witnessing this entire episode but having to endure my lack of sleep/lack of food crazed personality.  He was waiting for my head to start spinning.  It felt like an exorcism from the pleasures of life.  Torture indeed.

We arrived at the hospital grateful this nightmare would soon be over.  After chatting with my annoyingly happy doctor, the nurse gave me the happy drugs.  I don’t remember much after that except staring at the monitor thinking, “Gee, I do have a nice colon.”

Turns out everything is normal and I won’t have to endure this again for another ten years, thank God.  I couldn’t wait to leave the hospital and consume any and all food in sight and hit the bed…and never consume Crystal Light again.

I’m thinking about this as my husband and me are in the process of selling our home.  We’ve lived here for five years and have enjoyed the house and the neighborhood for the most part.  The house itself is nothing special, but it’s on a very large, wooded lot very convenient to the city and very quiet.  It does have some sentimental value since we were married and had our daughter during the time we spent in the house.

Here’s my question, though.  What makes a home a home?  Is it the fact it’s a good house in a nice location or the memories and experiences had while inhabiting it?  Could you be just as happy living in a two bedroom apartment in the city?  I worry about that with my daughter.  Will she miss the yard?  Will she miss having a bedroom and a playroom?  For that matter, will my husband and me kill each other being so close and not being able to go to separate corners?

I’ve experienced parental guilt regarding our decision but I’ve decided it doesn’t really matter where you live or raise your child, as long as it’s a loving, stable home and you have all the basic necessities to survive (which includes cable TV for me).  Material things are just that…things.  You can’t take them with you so who cares, right?  I would rather have less stress, less financial burden and be free to enjoy life, travel and worry less about stuff.