Ways In Which I Have Been Wronged This Week, Sort Of

Violated. Persecuted. Held down by The Man. It's such a hard life; yet somehow, I continue to trudge onward.

1. Yesterday, as I was enjoying the ridiculously-hot-yet-lovely fall day here in central Texas, I was parked at a stop light where a city road worker proceeded to sandblast the pavement cracks next to my two-month-old, a.k.a. brand new car. I scurried to roll up the windows and close the sunroof to impede the downpour of BLACK ROCKS falling down like hail on said new vehicle.

2. In an effort to salvage heretofore-mentioned G-ride, I pulled up to the all-service carwash, only to find out that my ginormous bike rack was going to be uninstalled and reinstalled by a kid working at the carwash. I had fifteen minutes to get across town and pick up carpool.

3. I have had an outer ear/cartilege infection since Saturday that is stealing my joy. While I now have mobility in my neck once again, the pain is relentless and throbbing. The swollen lymph nodes in my neck look like my toddler has hidden his marbles under my skin, so I'm sleeping like a baby these days, needless to say.

4. R. found out he was going to be at a conference in Austin in two weeks, thus affording us some government-sponsored Pookie visitation. Just as I am getting excited about where we should go to celebrate my birthday and what chauchie little dress and shoes I should don, I get the message that the conference is cancelled. Oh cruel world! Why must the stars be aligned against us?!?

5. We also had a heated debate about something last night about which we both AGREED. Pointless and ridiculous. I can assert that it was definitely NOT my fault.

6. To top it off, R. is sending my birthday gift to my house and then expecting me not to open it until the end of the month on my birthdate! Uh, hello... Have you met me?!? This is like taking me to Hobby Lobby and expecting me not to buy anything.

7. As I'm driving to Bud's school to pick up carpool today, I got stuck behind two drivers, driving side by side and blocking traffic, who were slamming on their brakes every few seconds. They were careening down the street at a mind-numbing 22 miles per hour in a 30 mph zone. I should've made a citizen's arrest.

Seriously folks, I've just had this silly attitude for the last couple of days but haven't had time to blog or anything. I was just musing today at how peaceful and content I am for the first time in three years. I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing the last time I thought that same thought. T. and I were on the Harley, and it was my 29th birthday. The late October sun in Louisiana was bright and piercing against a pristine blue sky, the air crisp and light. We were going to a battalion function and I had specifically asked to ride the bike since he was preparing to deploy the following year and I would not be able to ride on the bike with him for my 30th birthday. The day was so beautiful, and he was so proud of the Harley. It really could've ruined our relationship, but I'm proud to say that I sucked it up and made a point to find time for us to enjoy it together. I remember, as we rode off post and into town, leaning back on the sissy bar and putting my arms out to the sides like long, lean wings and looking up as I closed my eyes. I was thinking to myself, "Thank you, God, for this day. If you took me from this world right at this moment, I would never have been happier in my life." I was specifically thinking of my husband, my children, the weather, my life in general.

Almost three years later, I surprised myself today that I was thinking that same thought again. By all means, my life is not stress-free. I still have a lot of things that are uncertain in my life. The last three years have been rough, jagged, raw, dark, enduring. But I feel like I have emerged through them in stages, almost like walking through a house that is a series of rooms separated by closed doors. As I finish with one room, I look back, think about what I learned or experienced in that room, tentatively turn the knob, and step purposefully into the next room. That new room might smell wonderful or hideous, appear frightening or comforting -- there is no way of knowing this ahead of time. But there is a sense of sequence to them, and I know that it is impossible to proceed to the next one without spending time in the one I'm currently in. Mercifully, I have stepped into a room that seems like a holding tank or a parlor. I know I can't stay here long, but it's lovely and restful. I can still see the fog dancing under the last door that I came through, but it's not seeping through. The furniture is nice but not meant for lounging, so it doesn't exactly invite you to tarry for long but is comfortable for the time being, so we'll see.

So which room are you hanging out in these days in your life?